Going Dutch for a Nutcracker 4th January 2019

Since December 2018 a Slender billed Nutcracker has taken up residence in a small  university town called Wageningen in The Netherlands and many British birders have made the journey to see it and the bird has become a local celebrity. Unfortunately it was impossible for me to even contemplate making a trip to see it until this year due to family commitments and the usual pre Christmas turmoil.

I did not think the bird would remain long enough for me to be able to plan a trip but nonetheless I kept checking the Dutch Birding website and our own Rare Bird Alert (RBA) and every day it was reported as being at Wageningen. It became obvious that this bird, from the far northeast of Russia or Siberia was intent on spending the winter in Wageningen, unlikely as that sounds. From the reports I read and the photos I saw on social media it was apparent the Nutcracker was extremely confiding, to such an extent that it allowed approach to within feet and on occasions was even pictured perched  on camera lenses and birder's arms!

With such news and accompanying point blank images it was hard to resist the urge to go and see it as I have always wanted to see one, having never seen a Nutcracker although I just missed seeing one in a forest in Estonia some years ago to my everlasting regret. Here was a real chance to rectify the matter.

Between Christmas and New Year with daily reports of the Nutcracker still being posted I decided to plan a trip to The Netherlands. I am no stranger to such an excursion as I have been to The Netherlands on four occasions now to see very rare or unusual birds. Three trips were successful as I saw a Hawk Owl, a Pygmy Owl and a Siberian Rubythroat. Only once was I unsuccessful, spectacularly failing to find a Desert Warbler which had departed the night before.

What you may find incredible is that you can drive from England to The Netherlands and back in just about twenty four hours. The route I follow each time is to drive from Oxford to Folkestone, (three hours), take the car on  The Eurotunnel train to Calais, (forty minutes) and then drive through northern France, across Belgium and into The Netherlands (four hours). Hopefully I then have six hours to find and see the target bird before making the reverse journey back to England and getting home around midnight the same day. 

Needless to say you have to start very early, in this case getting the 3.30am Eurotunnel train from Folkestone which requires a start from Oxford before midnight. I had it all booked for the Nutcracker but none of my birding compatriots seemed enthusiastic about joining me or could not because of other commitments. In the end Moth agreed to come, probably because he had not done one of these marathon journeys before so was blissfully unaware of what was involved.

At 1030pm on Wednesday evening I collected Moth from his home in Eynsham and we set off for Folkestone and the Eurotunnel terminal.The roads at this time of night were quiet so we made good time and three hours later we were in Folkestone and wandered into an eerily deserted terminal building in the very wee hours with two hours to spare before our train was due to leave  It was bitterly cold as we went back outside to put the special stickers on the car's headlights, to ensure the headlight beams went in the other direction, as we would be driving on the 'wrong' side of the road once we left the train at Calais. A cup of coffee revived me and kept my senses alert as I would be doing all the driving. We sat for an hour and a half waiting to be called to our train and  when it was we joined a line of cars and drove onto the covered coaches to be transported to the Continent. I grabbed some sleep as we sat in the car on the journey over and then it was a long slog, in the dark with rain squalls blattering the windscreen, through three European countries. 

The sky began to lighten soon after we crossed the Dutch border and the emerging dreary, flat landscape did nothing to cheer my senses. I was very tired too. Slowly we got ever nearer to Wageningen, eventually finding ourselves on the outskirts of the modern looking town, and following the Satnav directions turned onto a road called Voorburglaan, surrounded by dormitory housing and what looked like university halls of residence and a sea of parked bicycles. If I am honest we had no precise idea where the right place in Wageningen was to seek out the Nutcracker as at this time neither of us had mastered how to put the GPS co ordinates in the Satnav but we knew we were very close to the right vicinity.

We drove around somewhat aimlessly, in the hope of finding any other birders, which is not the best thing to do after driving for six hours with no sleep. Eventually, tired of guessing and  in some desperation I  stopped the car by a lady walking a dog.Thankfully she spoke English and in answer to my enquiry about the Nutcracker she pointed to a long tree lined bank on the opposite side of the road and told us we were actually in the right road and the bank was where the Nutcracker had been but it had not been seen since New Year's Eve! My heart sank to my boots and tired, dishevelled and hungry I suddenly felt all my years and desperately tried to remain optimistic. It did not work.

I looked closer at where the Nutcracker had been every day up to New Year's Eve. I now recognised the buildings and surroundings, made familiar from the images I had lingered over on my computer back in England but there was nothing to see now apart from a forlorn branch propped against the gaunt trunk of a tree, which had been used as a prop by photographers  and a notice nailed to the same tree, with information about the Nutcracker.  They seemed to  almost mock us.  To compound my misery the weather was totally depressing, grey and dull, as if the heavy clouds were pressing down on the earth.  A light drizzle blowing on a chill wind  added to my discomfort. The wet surrounds and dull light dragged me to a new low. 

I needed to find a loo so suggested to Moth he should wait where we were and I would drive off to find a loo and then return. Having achieved this and on returning, I found Moth in conversation with two Dutch birders who had slightly better news for us. They told us the Nutcracker had been seen yesterday but ever since the New Year's Eve fireworks it had been scared off from this its former favoured location  in Wageningen and was now sometimes to be found at another place, a mile or two further into the town.

They gave us the name of the street, Harnjesweg, which was the Nutcracker's alternative choice but said if we waited here the Nutcracker would probably return at sometime. It was a dilemna, whether to stay or risk going to the other location. They departed and a short while afterwards another Dutch birder arrived and parked his car behind us. 

We got out of the car and spoke to him and were astounded when he said he had just seen the Nutcracker in the trees on the other side of the road but it had flown off! He also suggested we wait here in the hope the Nutcracker would come back. It was impossible to tell if he knew what he was doing but he told us he had seen the Nutcracker some days before so presumably he knew what it looked like. I was tired and it was all a bit of a blur but I can recall there were two Jays flying about in the trees when he claimed to have seen the Nutcracker. So who knows.

We stood forlornly on the muddy roadside but with our spirits raised by the semi positive news from the Dutch birders. At least the Nutcracker was still in the vicinity but just not here. Twenty minutes later I was cast back into moroseness again as a lady with a car full of kids stopped by to tell us the Nutcracker had definitely gone. Great. I smiled bravely and thanked her for being so kind as to let us know.

There is only so much time you can stand on a dank wet road and stare across at a wet and muddy grass bank and bare trees devoid of the bird you want to see. Birders are forever resourceful and with nothing to do and a quiet desperation  creeping over me I came up with a plan. I suggested to Moth that we go to the other location where the Nutcracker had been seen to check if it was there. Admittedly the chance of finding it would be slim  but these were desperate times and required immediate action to try and remedy the currently dire situation. The Dutch birder wanted to remain at our current location so I told him if we found the Nutcracker we would come back and tell him as it was only a ten minute drive away. This was agreed, at least I assumed it was  although because of the language difference I was not quite certain if he understood precisely what I said.

It was a relief to get back in the car, out of the cold and damp. Moth fired up the Satnav and we followed its directions which took us on a short car ride to a small shopping parade where we found the street, Harnjesweg that ran off it and where the Nutcracker had possibly been seen yesterday. I parked nearby in a convenient layby. We had no idea where in Harnjesweg the Nutcracker had been seen but as it turned out the street itself was only a short one with housing on each side, each house with a tiny front garden.It hardly looked a suitable area for a bird that normally inhabits vast pine forests. We stood at the corner of Harnjesweg  facing a paved driveway with a small garage at the end wondering if this was really the right place and what should we do now.

Anything less like a pine forest it is hard to imagine but this

unlikely suburban corner was to be the stage for the Nutcracker 

to perform on. The grass verge on the right was where it 

buried the peanuts that I sprinkled on the paving stones

At that moment, as I sank once again into despair, Moth saw a movement in a tangle of branches and twigs growing over the garage roof and exclaimed. 'What's that? It looks a bit small.' I looked in my bins and saw through the tangled branches a brown and white spotted bird, jay sized with a long and pointed black bill.

I could hardly get the words out as adrenalin coursed through my tired body and an electric thrill energised me. It was incredible.  'It's the Nutcracker! Fantastic! Look at it! Superb! Brilliant Moth!

Once again I was riding that roller coaster of emotion that only birding exploits such as this can bring. From a quiet resignation and the very depths of despair I was metaphorically hurled to the other extreme of elation and immense delight. A feeling that anything was now achievable and the world was not such an awful place after all, enveloped me. We had done it! We really had!

Then we felt a slight sense of unease that the Nutcracker would fly away but we need not have worried. The Nutcracker flew across the small driveway and perched low down in a tree on the other side and just sat there perfectly content and obviously not hungry.

A man came out of the small house next to us, where he had placed a lot of feeders in his front garden and told us the Nutcracker had been here all yesterday on his feeders, helping itself to the peanuts. It looked like it was going to be here all today as well, for it sat, obviously content, on its perch in the tree and showed no signs of wanting to fly away.

I had brought a large bag of peanuts of my own from home and sprinkled some on the concrete paving stones of the driveway. The Nutcracker cocked its head to one side and showed mild interest but was not tempted enough to come down to them. I walked up to where it sat a few feet above me in the tree and it looked down at me but did not move.

I went back to join Moth and suggested we just wait and see what it would do. When it got hungry again it would surely come down to the peanuts. At this time I should add that we were entirely on our own with not another birder in sight.

A fair chunk of time elapsed and the Nutcracker continued to sit in the tree as we watched it. Finally it showed signs of activity, stretching its wings and made a move to descend lower by gradually hopping downwards from one branch to another before flying down to the ground and picking at the peanuts. It did not, however, eat them but proceeded to store them in a pouch under its chin.

This image clearly shows the two generations of  feathers in the Nutcracker's
wing.The browner ones are the worn older ones and the blue black ones the 
newer.This together with the white spots on the primary coverts indicate this 
bird was hatched last year

Note the swollen pouch full of peanuts

Once it had gathered enough peanuts it bounced, via a series of sideways hops over to a grass verge and proceeded to bury them, just as a Jay does with acorns.

It repeated this procedure a number of times before once more flying up into a conifer to rest and do whatever Nutcrackers do to while away the time and contemplate life.

Nutcrackers have a highly developed instinct to store food for later, as well as an unerring memory enabling them to recall where they buried the food, even when it is hidden under snow, which enables them to remain in the far north even in the depths of winter. A Nutcracker can bury up to 30,000 pine nuts in a season and remember where it stored 70% of them.

The Nutcracker was  totally confiding and at times we were as close as only a foot away without it showing any fear at all. Its plumage was overall dark chocolate brown, liberally and densely spotted with white, both on its upperparts and especially its underparts. Its crown and nape were unspotted dark brown forming a distinctive cap and its bill was black, quite long and powerful looking.The wings and short tail were unspotted and plain dark brown but the tail feathers were broadly tipped with white forming a distinct terminal band when the tail was spread. Its undertail coverts were also pure white. Looking at this bird's plumage I could see a clear disparity between some browner and worn older flight feathers and newer and blacker feathers which would indicate this bird was hatched last year and is now in its second year of life.

Moth 'papping' the Nutcracker

Slightly larger than a Jay it behaved in a very similar manner, bouncing across the ground in large hops and burying nuts in the grass and leaves each side of the driveway with its substantial bill. In between burying nuts it would perch a short way above the ground in a tree, preening or just sitting until it felt the urge to come down to collect more nuts to hide in the grass.

Nutcrackers are found from north and central Europe eastwards as far as Japan and  also in The Himalayas  and southwest and central China. This particular Nutcracker in Wageningen has been identified as a Slender billed Nutcracker Nucifraga caryocatactes macrorhyncha even though its bill looks formidable and is found in pine forests in north eastern Russia and Siberia. Individuals of this race are well known for being very confiding and fearless, possibly because they so infrequently come into contact with humans and they will irrupt seeking food when the pine  crop is poor or fails in their natural forest home, sometimes flying as far as central and western Europe. Many British birders are waiting for the next irruption to reach Britain. They have had to wait a long time as the last  irruption was in the autumn of 1968 when no less than 315 arrived in Britain.

The other race of Nutcracker N.c.caryocatactes  is marginally larger, has a bill that is slightly thicker at the base, longer legs and the white band at the tip of the tail is narrower. They are called  Common or Spotted Nutcracker and come from Scandinavia and European Russia. They are much more wary and shy than the other race and usually do not irrupt.

Slowly, during the morning, word must have got out about the Nutcracker and we were joined by others, all Dutch, who came and went so there were never more than a dozen of us at any given time. Some were proper birders and others just curious passers by.

Locals of all ages came to see the Nutcracker

It was noticeable that when a number of us were present the Nutcracker was slightly more circumspect about coming close to us. We remained watching and photographing the Nutcracker for four hours, and why not as it was an absolute beauty of a bird and I doubt I will ever get this close to a Nutcracker again, so we were determined to make the most of it.

Dutch birders are invariably friendly when you meet any and we got to talk to most of those who came to see the Nutcracker. One told me he was the highest lister in The Netherlands for 2018 and we compared notes about twitching and the various birds we had seen.

Yours truly on extreme right looking a bit cold and fraternising with
The Netherlands top twitcher (in the plaid jacket).
Moth thought it did not seem right not to also include a windmill in the photo!

Moth with the Dutch twitchers who had latterly joined us.

He also counted how many peanuts the Nutcracker picked up before bouncing away to bury them. Once it collected twenty one but on another occasion it collected an incredible twenty five, its pouch visibly distended by the large number of peanuts

Note the Nutcracker's pouch below the bill visibly distended with peanuts prior
to burying them in the adjacent grass verge

The time passed and before we knew it reached noon. We needed to set off on the long drive back to Calais at 3pm at the latest, in order to catch our booked train back to Folkestone but I had noticed on RBA that four days ago a Pygmy Cormorant had been seen in a park on the outskirts of Brussels. We now had another dilemna to contend with, albeit a pleasant one, do we stay here with the Nutcracker for another three hours, make a leisurely drive back to Calais or divert to Brussels on our way back to Calais.

In the end the Nutcracker made our minds up for us as it decided to hide itself back in the conifer and did not look like it would come out again for quite some time. We decided to go for the Pygmy Cormorant as it was on the way back to Calais and it would not require an enormous and time wasting diversion to make our way to the Parc Domaine de Val Duchesse in Brussels where we hoped the Pygmy Cormorant was still residing. All we had was the name of the park and GPS co ordinates from RBA but Moth had by now worked out how to put the co ordinates into the Satnav so we had some firm directions. An hour and a half later we found ourselves entering the outskirts of Brussels and despite some misgivings on my part it was relatively easy to find the deserted park with its three large open lakes and one smaller one in some woodland. It appeared the lakes and surrounding parkland had in the past been part of a rich and titled person's private estate but was now a public area.

We parked by the largest lake but there was no sign of any cormorant on it, just Coots, some Mallards and a lot of Egyptian Geese. A familiar screeching from  the wooded surrounds betrayed the presence of Rose ringed Parakeets. I walked across to the smaller lake that was surrounded by trees and a high fence and scanned the lake with my binoculars. A few Coots were messing around on it and then, perched on a half submerged log at the far end of the lake, I found a black bird with its back to me which on turning its small head and revealing its stubby black bill confirmed it was the Pygmy Cormorant.

Pygmy Cormorant

We were really pleased with this as we had no idea if it would still be here as the RBA report was days old and nothing had been posted since. The Pygmy Cormorant sat on its log for fifteen minutes and then flew off to the far bank of the lake and we lost sight of it in the tangle of tree branches hanging down over the lakeside.

I was happy and so was Moth as we now had a second lifer to cheer us on the long drive back to Calais. We made good time to Calais, driving into nightfall as we entered France and we got lucky at Calais and were put on an earlier train back to Folkestone. After dropping Moth off at his house in Eynsham I was back home and in bed by 11pm that night.

It had been a challenging twenty four hours but we had done it and I slept content in the knowledge that yet another extraordinary adventure had come to its successful conclusion.