Some Star Birds on Shetland
European Bee-eater 2nd October Ollaberry Mainland
A European Bee-eater is surely one of the least likely bird species to be found in Shetland. Normally an inhabitant of sunny climes in southern Europe and migrating to spend the winter in southern Africa, the individual currently looking totally out of place at Ollaberry in the north of Mainland had clearly taken a wrong turning.
European Bee-eaters are very colourful, an amalgam of rich chestnut brown, yellow, greens of various shades and turquoise with a large, black downcurved bill, bringing something of the vibrancy of the Mediterranean to wherever they land and this 'lost' individual was too good an opportunity to pass up. I took an early ferry from my accommodation on Unst and drove across Yell to take another ferry to Mainland and then it was but half an hour's drive to Ollaberry, a small village of scattered dwellings spread across a gently sloping hillside above the sea.
When I arrived at Ollaberry the rather imprecise directions, informing me to 'find the garden with a fruit cage in it' were baffling. Try as I might I could not find the fruit cage which was where the bee eater was reported to be most regularly found. There was no other birder to ask so I was on my own on this one. I called Paul, who I knew had seen it yesterday and thankfully he picked up my call.
'Hi Paul. I am at Ollaberry. Can you tell me exactly where the bee eater is to be found?' I enquired and he gave me sufficient directions to be able to pin down the garden where the fruit cage was located. The garden in question was up a small road with a few houses and farm buildings on one side and a large grass field full of sheep on the other. The fruit cage was so insignificant it was easy to miss and why no one thought to just say the bee eater was to be found along the road which was signposted to Leon is beyond me.
Shortly after nine am I parked in the road and looked around but there was no sign of the bee eater. The sun shone, brilliant in the clear air, which was a blessing and looking down from the rising elevation of the road to the sea shore beyond, yet another beautiful rugged panorama of cliffs, rock, sea and sky gladdened my eyes. I wandered up the road but still saw nothing. I returned to the car to stand by it and wait, as I had been advised by Paul that this was probably the best thing to do. A small bird flickered through the small bare twigs of some trees growing as a windbreak at the very edge of the garden wall behind me. Wren? Goldcrest? It moved closer, its movements fast and agile, the sun caught it and a green back, long yellow eyebrow, and similar coloured wing bars revealed it to be a Yellow browed Warbler.
Paul had warned it could be a fairly long time waiting for the bee eater to show up but after looking out to the sea, on turning back to look at the fence posts, there, sat on top of one, was the bee eater which had materialised out of nowhere
Looking thoroughly exotic it sat on a fence post by the road, totally bizarre and out of place.Such a beautiful creature in these incongruous surroundings, it sat with wings slightly drooping and looked to my mind a bit miserable which was hardly surprising. It had, however, been here for a few days and was managing to catch enough insect prey to keep it alive but surely it had to depart south soon or perish?
This question was for another day and for now I settled to just enjoy watching, admiring and taking the bee eater's picture. It allowed me to approach reasonably close but only so far and no more. It regularly left its perch to fly out over the field, towering up to seize an insect and then gliding down to perch on another fence post or wire, before making another aerial sally. I was entirely on my own, not another birder was anywhere to be seen which allowed me to get close to the bird. It gradually moved along the fence, from post to post, after each sortie for insect prey and then flew to the far side of the field to perch there on another fence post for quite a while, before returning in a long flight, to pass over my head and land behind the houses.
I had been over forty minutes in the company of the bee eater before another lone birder came up the road. I pointed out where the bee eater had flown behind the houses. One thing you can be sure of in Shetland is no shortage of fence posts and on going to check the garden with the fruit cage, there was the bee eater sat atop a post, in classic fashion, looking about it for insects.
The following images were taken when the sun went in. You can see the difference in plumage tone
At that moment a rainbow appeared above the hillside on which Ollaberry stood and both of us fancifully wished the bee eater would again sit on the fence post as it would have made a classic picture, but you cannot have it all.
The sun was now fading as the cloud began to increase and I figured I had got the best of the bee eater when it was perched in the sunshine. Compare the colours of the plumage in the sun to when it was cloudy. When the sun shone the bird positively glowed but once the sun disappeared the colours lost their vibrancy and were dull and muted in tone.
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| Ollaberry, the field, fence posts and road favoured by the bee-eater |
A bit like me really. In the sun I feel invigorated, in the dull and grey. not so.
Red backed Shrike 3rd October Califf Mainland
Relatively near to Lerwick is a place called Califf, a bit off the beaten track and here a juvenile Red backed Shrike was being very co-operative. In the company of Vickie and Ryan I went to see it after our first encounter with the Orcas at Wester Quarff but both the lateness in the day and the weather were against us and in the gloom of fading light and persistent rain we gave up, leaving it for another day.
The shrike was duly reported as still being present on the subsequent day so I made another effort to go and see it and again found myself virtually alone apart from one other birder who told me he could not find the shrike. I chatted to him and found out that we had something in common - Sussex - and not only that but one particular part of the Sussex coast.This kind of thing has happened to me too often to be a surprise anymore but it is still pleasant when it happens.
The birder was about to depart when I looked down a long line of fence posts running up from the road, guarding a ditch, and there was the shrike, dropping down into the grass and back up onto the fence at regular intervals. Slowly it came closer and after the birder departed, satisfied with his views, I had the shrike all to myself. Standing motionless I waited as the shrike gradually moved ever closer. I find that being patient and waiting often bears dividends with birds instead of pursuing them and so it was in this case as the shrike came near and perched very close to me in a reed and iris patch, its brown plumage matching the dead reeds and iris to perfection.
It was not there for long before it commenced working its way back along the fence line, at one point being mildly mobbed by a Twite. It then dived into the ditch but did not fly back up as it usually did. I began to doubt myself but after a few minutes it suddenly re-appeared on the wire fence, wet and bedraggled and all was revealed. It had been taking a bath in the wet ditch and now commenced a vigorous and thorough overhaul of its plumage. It still had a very long way to migrate to Africa and it was essential that its plumage was in top condition. Slowly it dried out and satisfied with its efforts re-commenced hunting for prey
I left it there. Another nice bird to add to my growing Shetland list.
Red breasted Flycatcher 25th September Scousburgh Mainland
Such problems did not materialise with one that was frequenting a garden at Scousburgh on what can only be described as a day of horrendous rain and wind. The tiny sprite showed scant regard for the foul conditions and put on quite a show, exposing itself to the wind and rain in, let's face it, the necessity to catch insects to survive. It would perch openly on a fence and green mesh wind break guarding a flower border where presumably insects were able to fly in the lee of the wind, sheltered by the windbreak.
Not so the flycatcher which was buffeted by the wind relentlessly, its feathers blown into disarray and the bird itself, on its exposed perch, was almost dislodged by the strength of the wind on occasions but stuck to its task despite everything.
The owner of the house, took pity on my rain sodden presence and invited me into the garden where I could stand in the lee of some bushes out of the wind and the worst of the rain. Another example of the thoughtfulness and kindness so typical of Shetland's residents.
Isabelline Shrike 28th September Levenwick and Semi-palmated Sandpiper Grutness Mainland
On an overcast but not unpleasant morning with just the occasional shower I decided to go to a place called South Nesting, on the east side of Mainland, which is a relatively underwatched area. I quite like finding my own birds and the satisfaction that brings, although I am happy to go and see those found by others.
I wandered along the road checking the occasional garden and any bushes in them. At first the prospects appeared pretty bleak but slowly one or two birds revealed themselves and after an hour or so I had seen a Common Whitethroat and a Yellow browed Warbler and my first Redwing. Not earth shattering I will admit but this is how it often is on Shetland and rarities and any other commoner migrants do not just pop out of the bushes for your gratification. You have to really work for them often covering the same area over and over again and it can take hours of fruitlesss effort before you find even a commoner migrant let alone a rarity.
I stopped to check the WhatsApp for Scarce Birds on Shetland and my heart gave a leap as I saw that an Isabelline Shrike had been located at Levenwick, which is on the east coast of Mainland south of Lerwick. I could be there in half an hour.This was too good a bird to miss.
On the way there I learnt the shrike had been lost to view but on getting to Levenwick was relieved to see birders obviously looking at something perched on one of the numerous fence posts dividing the fields. Levenwick is very small and the few houses are cramped onto small plots of land. There is little space to park and naturally with this rarity present, all spaces appeared to be taken with other birder's cars. Somehow I managed to find a space by the beach in which to leave the car without blocking residents access or birder's cars.
I walked back to where a huddle of birders were scoping the fields and fences running away and up the hillside. There were an awful lot of fence posts but I finally located the shrike, perched on top of a post and in true shrike fashion dropping down to secure prey in the grass before flying back up to another adjacent fence post. Isabelline Shrikes formerly comprised of two races but they have now been contentiously split into two species, so this shrike was now either a Daurian Shrike or a Turkestan Shrike but as of yet the current identity of this particular shrike remains undecided. Most present favoured Turkestan based on the plumage features evident and this would be good for me as I have seen a few Daurian Shrikes in Britain but never a Turkestan Shrike and the latter would be a new British species for me.
The shrike was an adult male and its plumage was an attractive combination of greyish brown upperparts and whitish underparts with a bright chestnut tail and prominent black face mask. Although a little distant for my camera, perched on its fence post,I did my best as it moved along the various fence lines. It did come a little closer but frustratingly was then partially hidden by vegetation.
After about an hour watching the shrike more exciting news came through about a Semi-palmated Sandpiper being found on the beach at Grutness which is close by Sumburgh Airport. Today was turning out to be a very good one with two rarities only ten or so miles apart. There was no time to lose and I was into the car and up the lane from Levenwick as fast as I could go.
On getting to Grutness I again managed to get the car into the limited space for parking and walked just a few metres to overlook the small area of beach below my viewing point and on which the Semi-P was feeding.
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| The Semi palmated Sandpiper beach and attendant birders |
I joined about ten birders and soon located the sandpiper feeding in the company of some Sanderling and Dunlin. It was obviously smaller than the other two wader species and ran about constantly, on black twinkling legs, amongst the brown lumps of seaweed strewn by the tide over the beach. The Sanderlings were unhappy about its presence and regularly chased it off, the two species running over the beach. If you thought Sanderlings ran fast you should have seen the Semi - P. Despite being threatened by the larger Sanderlings the Semi - P insisted on feeding near to them and was constantly being chivvied along as a result.
The wind was blowing strongly onto the beach and the light was appalling for photography but again I did what I could to record the moment. Birders were constantly arriving and departing but after about twenty minutes all the waders took to the air and flew far over the bay to the other side and with that I decided I had seen enough.
What an excellent day.
Jack Snipe 7 October Lamba Ness Unst
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| Belmont FerryTerminal with the dawn breaking |
Sadly our anxiety proved unnecessary as the bird in question was nowhere to be found in the plantation or anywhere else on Fetlar. The wind was close to gale force and any bird flushed was hurled away by the wind until it could find cover. At least the predicted rain stayed off until lunchtime so, although thoroughly chilled by the wind, we did not get a soaking but even so, totally dispirited, we got an early ferry back to Ulsta at 1030.
I am philosophical about these situations. You have to be if you twitch rare birds as the frustration of failure is inevitably going to come at some time or other. This was one that had got away but there would be other birds to come where I would be successful. It was all forgotten, well almost, over a coffee and slice of home made cake in the Final Destination cafe at Baltasound, back on Ulsta.
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| The famous decorated bus shelter at Baltasound |
One thing I could be sure of was, that no one else would be up there. I turned off the single track road that leads onwards to Skaw and headed out along the rough track towards the distant point of Lamba Ness. The wind up here was ferocious, battering the car with rain on one side but, with the car acting as a windbreak, on the other it was totally calm allowing me to open the window to look for any birdlife.
A few sodden Skylarks flew off from the track and Golden Plovers, Turnstones and Common Redshanks, reluctant to fly, hunkered down in a wet hollow, evading the worst of the wind. I opened the car window on the wrong side and involuntarily gasped as the force of the wind hit the side of my face and rain stung my cheeks. I rapidly shut the window and the noise and shock of wind and rain ceased as suddenly as it had arrived. I drove slowly out towards the extremity of Lamba Ness as gobbets of white sea spume and froth were hurled by the wind from one side of the promontory to the other. The sea boiled, whipped by the wind into huge, surging waves that battered themselves into a white foaming fury against the cliffs. The car shook with the awful power of the gusting wind blowing against its side. Near to the point I turned the car into the wind to look out to the sea. I sat for some time, mesmirised, looking at a never ending, constantly changing vision of turbulence. It was a raw beauty of elemental violence that would never occur in the comparative gentility of an inland county such as my currrent home of Oxfordshire.
I thought I had briefly seen a Jack Snipe on the way out to the point and now on the return journey I kept a close eye on the areas of peaty pools near to the track.The only problem was that the pools were on the windy side of the car, the passenger side and I was in the driving seat. Finding a Jack Snipe would be hard going.
I drove along slowly and the first pool I came to was devoid of any birdlife but the next small pool held a Jack Snipe. It was as easy as that. The Jack Snipe was feeding in that curious bobbing fashion they have, happily pogoing along probing the mud and although very wet was out of the worst of the wind. I stopped the car a few metres back from it so I could watch it through the windscreen, the wipers keeping the windscreen clear. The Jack Snipe stopped feeding and stood motionless with its back to me but not crouching to conceal itself as they do when really alarmed.
Somehow I clambered over the car's central console to the passenger seat, pressed the switch to the electric window and steeled myself for what was to inevitably come. As the window lowered a venomous blast of wind and rain hurtled into my face and the car's interior but I was determined and there was the Jack Snipe, standing still as a stone and looking a trifle unsure but definitely photographable. I fired the camera at its maximum, ten frames per second. I had only seconds available before the wind driven rain covered the lens. The Jack Snipe turned its head to look at me and remained thus for a minute or so and then lost its nerve and flew. Quick get the window shut. This having been achieved I got out the tissues and commenced wiping down the car's interior. I checked the images on my camera and was pleased with what I had managed to record.
Jack Snipes are one of my favourite species of bird and the only other place I have seen them in the open like this is at Spurn and once at Slimbridge but never quite as close - just feet way.
to be continued ....................
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