Day 3
The night in our cabin passed slowly as we were rolled in our bunks by the ship's constant movement on the huge seas we were crossing. Up and down, side to side the ship swayed and dipped in response to the mighty forces of the sea as it ploughed onwards to Lerwick. Strange clunks and thumps came from deep in the ship's bowels. I think I slept but it was a half waking half sleeping experience that left me feeling drained when, finally, after twelve hours, the ship's tannoy announced that breakfast was now being served in the cafe and remarkably we would dock in Lerwick, on time at 7am. Donald despite a scare in the early hours had managed to survive the crossing without being sick and so we adjourned to the cafe for a full breakfast, not having eaten anything last night.
Suitably refreshed we went down to the car deck and shortly afterwards drove off the ship and into a wet, grey and extremely windy Lerwick morning. The weather is always a major consideration when birding Shetland and for the next four days we had the unenviable prospect of almost gale force northwest winds sweeping the islands.This was not good as the most desirable winds are easterlies which bring migrants and vagrants from Scandinavia, Russia and Asia. However you just have to shrug and accept whatever weather situation confronts you and make the best of it. Shetland itself is hardly picturesque at this time of year, there are no craggy mountain tops and rushing mountain streams but just an endless vista of brown, undulating moorland rising in places to high smooth topped hills. Trees are at a premium as there is little protection for them from the ever present wind which blows unhindered and often with great force across the moorland.There are sheltered gardens where sycamores and conifers eke out an existence, even some bushes and shrubs in very sheltered parts and it is in such places that rare and vagrant birds seek sanctuary. All birders, both resident and visiting on Shetland know this, and the resident islanders are now well used to both visiting and local birders checking every small area of cover in their gardens. The islanders if asked politely are usually happy to allow you access to their garden to look for birds and many of them plant conifers as windbreaks against the constant wind.
To add to our angst, in the previous week Shetland had hosted two major rarities in a Pallas's Grasshopper Warbler and an Upland Sandpiper and the Isles of Scilly in the far west of England, as a consequence of the westerly winds, were reporting major North American rarities such as Rose breasted Grosbeak and Cedar Waxwing, both of which I have never seen in Britain. Two groups of birders actually deserted Shetland to drive 700 miles to Penzance and then on to Scilly to see the waxwing.
We were currently on Mainland, the major island of Shetland and to get to Unst we would need to take two further short ferry rides, from Toft on Mainland to Ulsta on Yell then drive across Yell and take a final ferry from Gutcher on Yell to Belmont on Unst.
However, before heading for Unst we decided on looking for a Rustic Bunting that had been reported from Melby on the coast of Mainland.
The location was literally right by the sea and on leaving the car the wind whipped at our clothing and faces with tremendous force, coming as it did straight in off the sea from the northwest. It could not have been more exposed. Any small bird was not going to venture out in this but seek shelter wherever it could.The Rustic Bunting had been seen yesterday feeding at the side of the road, immediately by the seashore but today, unsurprisingly it was nowhere to be seen. We searched along the road checking any garden with cover but could only find the odd Blackcap and Northern Wheatear. A couple of Common Snipe rose from some wet grass and rocketed into the sky, carried off far into the heavens by the wind. The small beach, festooned with uprooted seaweed was host to a flock of Turnstones and one Purple Sandpiper, the birds being constantly windblown along the edge of the surf as they searched for food.
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| Purple Sandpiper |
A couple of Rock Pipits sheltered amongst the boulders too. I found a strip of cabbages near to a graveyard and a small bird flew out but the wind whipped it away at speed and I never saw it again. Could this have been the bunting? I would never know. Common Ravens and Hooded Crows scoured the fields for carrion and as I fought the wind on my way back to the car two angular dark seabirds came in off the sea. Buffeted, but riding the wind with an easy grace they made for the moorland beyond. Arctic Skuas.
The weather made it hopeless birding here and we retreated to the sanctuary of the car. Now what? We decided to head inland to a place called Sands where some Parrot Crossbills had been reported frequenting a plantation of small conifers. On the way we checked a quarry, often a favourite place for rarities to shelter but we only found another Northern Wheatear and a Song Thrush. Arriving at Sands we were met with about thirty birders standing in a field and looking at the sheltered side of a conifer plantation.There was no sign of any Parrot Crossbills but two Pied Flycatchers put on quite a show, flying from a wire fence to catch insects in the lee of the conifers.
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| Pied Flycatcher |
After about thirty minutes a birder informed us the Parrot Crossbills had been located on the other side of the plantation so we made our way there. They were feeding on cones in the tops of some small conifers but the viewing was restricted and personally I hate this kind of birding where you are elbow to elbow with your fellow birders. This was, however, what was required if I was to see the Parrot Crossbills. There were at least two males viewable and I watched as they tore into the cones with their formidable bills.There is no mistaking a Parrot Crossbill when seen well. Their bills are massive and very distinctive, as also is their size, appearing more bulky than their smaller cousins Common and Scottish Crossbills. There has been a small invasion of these birds to Shetland this autumn and these had been present for a few days.
Whilst standing in the scrum I heard a Yellow browed Warbler call and turning just about glimpsed it flying off at speed into some bushes. A Redpoll flew over too as did several Chaffinches.
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Parrot Crossbill showing signs of immaturity with the
redness of its plumage still sullied by paler yellowish
and green suffusions making it appear more orange in
tone and showing a wing bar |
For half an hour we watched and as the sun came fully out the crossbills stopped feeding and started calling, a much softer more melodic contact call than the hard chipping call of Common Crossbills and they flew up to the top of a nearby conifer where we could see there were in fact three males, one fully adult and completely red with a huge bill, the others still with some immature yellow green tinges to their plumage. A few minutes later their calls increased in intensity and they flew off.
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Adult male Parrot Crossbill with bright pinkish red plumage and with massive
upper and lower mandibles and bull necked appearance
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Once the Parrot Crossbills had flown we returned to the car and driving further down the road encountered a wet field full of Golden Plover, Ruff, Lapwing and Common Redshanks.
It was now time to head for Unst, so we made our way to the ferry that would take us on the short crossing to Yell. It was then a twenty minute drive across Yell to connect with the ferry that would take us on an even shorter crossing to Unst.
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| The road across Yell. Miles of absolutely nothing |
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| The ferry to Unst |
It all worked perfectly.The ferries have done these trips time and time again and with great dexterity the captains of the small ferries manouevred their ships expertly onto the slipways.
Once on Unst we first drove to our accommodation for the next two weeks, Gardiesfauld Youth Hostel at Uyeasound, located on the southwestern tip of the island. I was uncertain what to expect as such accommodation can vary tremendously but was overwhelmed by the modern and clean facilities and spacious bedroom with en suite bathroom that was just for us. Maybe it was because it was very much at the end of the season that we had such luck but I was certainly not complaining. Here we met up with Colin who had made his way independently to the hostel from Northumberland.
Once everything was stowed in our rooms and introductions completed we were off out birding again as quickly as possible. Our destination was Skaw, located at the extreme north eastern end of the island where there was a Red throated Pipit lurking on the grassy slopes above Skaw beach and around a croft that was allegedly the northern most building in Britain but there again because of Unst's geographical location virtually everything is the 'northern most something' viz The Most Northerly Church and The Most Northerly Post Office in Britain to the plain ridiculous viz Skibhoul Stores 'The Most Northerly National Lottery Retailer.'
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The croft at Skaw. The most northerly inhabited building
in Britain |
Unst is the northernmost and third largest of the Shetland islands being 12 miles north to south by 5 miles east to west and it comprises largely moorland and grassland with some high coastal cliffs and scattered small lochans. The main centre is Baltasound. Up until 2006 there was an RAF Radar Station at Saxa Vord in the north of the island but this was closed in that year and the whole complex was taken over to become a tourist resort and also incorporating the Valhalla Brewery. There are now a number of English birders permanently living on the island.
Arriving at Skaw we crossed a small bridge spanning a burn and went through a gate and up onto the grass slope looking for the pipit. Here there was nothing but rough grass, and wildness and a promontory jutting out into the North Sea called The Noup. Norway lay 300km to the West. The wind, unhindered by anything in the way of topography whipped in from the sea across the slope battering at our clothes and hurling the regular rain showers at us with some force. It was not ideal birding but joining forces with some other birders we quartered the ground and eventually flushed the pipit but it was a trial relocating it and then following its progress in the long grass. Finally it flew down onto the beach, giving clear but distant views and where it fed for about five minutes, defying the blasts of wind and rain, before deciding that the grass would provide a less exposed habitat. Confusingly there was also a Whinchat braving the wind on the beach and I discovered that holding bins steady in a gale is not that easy, especially when rain is spattering on them as well. From what I saw of the pipit I was struck by how boldly marked it was, with noticeably stripey upperparts and boldly streaked breast and flanks.Its throat was unmarked buff with maybe a slight pink infusion. By some miracle I managed to hold the camera steady for a fraction between blasts of wind and rain and got some distinctly average shots of this star bird. So average I determined to return when and if the wind ever abated to try and do better
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| Red throated Pipit |
Blasted into submission by the elements it was a relief to come down from the exposed slope and into the comparative shelter of the small glen where the burn ran through and down to the sea and where we had parked the car.
Our next stop was a place called Halligarth Woodland near Baltasound, which lies half way down the island on the eastern side. You have probably guessed it is also the most northerly woodland in Britain! The woodland was planted in the 1830's by Dr Edmondson, a keen naturalist, and is visible from the road as a dark forbidding square of sycamores in a walled area and a substantial house that was built and inhabited by Dr Edmondson and is now eerily decaying into a ruin, surrounded by wild roses and other vegetation that manages to survive the wind and salt that the wind brings from the nearby sea.There was a plan to refurbish the house and turn it into a Visitor and Interpretive Centre but this seems to have been shelved for the time being. The woodland is designated as a Nature Reserve and is extremely good for finding rare and not so rare migrants.
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| Halligarth Woodland |
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The now derelict house that was the former home to
Dr Edmondson and that may become a Visitor Centre |
We walked to the side of the wood away from the prevailing wind, where it was sheltered and still but with the wind very much evident as it continuously roared through the tree tops, tearing at the withered leaves, and here we found two Spotted Flycatchers, feeding low down from a wire fence that ran alongside the track and sharing this comparatively tranquil spot in the company of at least four Common Chiffchaffs and one Willow Warbler. The flycatchers were confiding and allowed us to approach closely, regularly flying up to catch an insect and then returning to the wires but never to where they had just flown from. In this way they ensured they covered the entire stretch of sheltered ground in their search for insects.
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| Spotted Flycatchers |
A small flock of Twite flew over but were gone in a trice, hurled across the grey sky in front of the wind. Greylag Geese cackled in the wet fields, squatting in the grass to evade the worst of the wind.
Sunshine had been in short supply ever since we landed on Unst and there was no way it was going to put in anything but occasional brief appearances now. The skies were grey and lowering and the wind forever blowing hard with regular rain squalls sweeping in to complete our discomfort. But we are birders and made of strong stuff and this is Shetland after all, where the weather is often set against you. So it was with no complaint that we headed for a place near to Halligarth called Setters Hill Estate, which is a small housing estate comprising of modern houses that were former RAF accommodation but are now occupied by islanders. On the northern edge of the estate is a belt of conifers and here were meant to be more Parrot Crossbills, rapidly becoming my favourite bird. Two males and a female were meant to be in the trees but finding them proved more difficult than we anticipated. In fact after half an hour we had not found them but a visiting group of birders led by Dave, their tour leader, were onto them and called us over.
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| The conifer belt beside the Setters Hill housing Estate |
We got views of both a male and female but they were deep in the conifer branches and our view was obstructed to a greater extent.
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| Parrot Crossbill holding a cone in its claws |
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| Male Parrot Crossbill |
The birds regularly moved from tree to tree and eventually found themselves in a tree right on the extreme exposed edge of the plantation. I imagined they would prefer more sheltered areas to feed in but not a bit of it, as here they were being violently tossed around and swaying in the wind as they gripped the branches and tackled their cone of choice. I always thought they were called Parrot Crossbills because of their bills but the similarity does not end there as they too use their claws to firmly hold a cone they have snapped off a branch with their bills. Sturdy and hardy they gave the wind and conditions short shrift and carried on tearing into the cones with their formidable bills.
The female especially, buried herself deep in the bunches of pine needles growing on the branches, her dull overall plumage of grey and olive green was only enlivened by her rump which was yellow, the feathers showing dark fringes, creating a slightly scaled look.
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| Female Parrot Crossbill |
Both male and female were oblivious or uncaring about our close proximity and fed almost frantically. Maybe they were very hungry and had just arrived from off the sea.
Another Yellow browed Warbler showed itself briefly in the conifers and then as per usual was gone.
We continued watching the crossbills until they flew back into the more sheltered depths of the plantation and the show was over.
It was time to go back to the hostel, change out of our waterproofs and prepare our dinner. Colin produced some nice bottles of local beer and we settled down to a nice Chile con Carne courtesy of Donald's culinary skills. Here we also met up with John and Wee George, two Scots birders from Paisley and friends of Donald. They were doing the same as us, spending two weeks on Unst looking for rarities
We shared some food and had a long and wide ranging conversation with an American lady who was an expert on knitting of all things and was visiting the island to further her knowledge on the subject.We all agreed we hated Donald Trump. She was leaving the island tomorrow morning and was worried about catching the bus to the ferry, so gallantly we promised if the bus did not arrive we would take her in the car to the ferry so she had no need to worry.
The better for a couple of glasses of red wine I would sleep very well tonight even as the wind and rain raged continuously outside.
to be continued ............
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