From The Archives: A Greater Yellowlegs in Cornwall 12th September 2011

I decided to make it a long weekend of birding in Cornwall by taking the Friday and Monday off around the weekend of the 10-11th September. My birding fortunes, like the weather, had recently been a series of lows and had hit a particular depression when I just missed seeing a juvenile Pallid Harrier on the Oxfordshire Downs at Churn on Thursday. I returned there on the Friday without much hope and my trepidation was duly realised with a complete absence of any harrier although I did find twenty two Stone Curlews in a beet field nearby. That night I was due to drive to Cornwall for some serious seawatching at Pendeen with Badger and we would stay at Gnome's cottage at Pendeen. That evening Gnome contacted Badger to advise he thought the wind was going to be unsuitable for seawatching and Badger duly rang me to cry off going. Now both Badger and Gnome are very nice fellows but at that moment I was not happy about the way things had gone, especially as Gnome was consulting the BBC weather site which everyone knows is useless. Magic Seaweed, the surfers site is infinitely superior and is consistently accurate, literally to within hours. Frustratingly, unlike the BBC they were forecasting serious winds coming from the right direction. I advised Badger of this but he had made his mind up and it was obvious he no longer fancied going to Cornwall.

I too gave up and went to bed, tossing and turning like the sea was undoubtedly doing off Pendeen, trying to decide whether I should still to go to Cornwall on my own or go and see a Sharp tailed Sandpiper that was in Cleveland. I was in such a state I had to get up at 2am, descending to the kitchen where the cat gave me his 'not you again' look and curled back to sleep. So stressed was I that I consumed an entire packet of ginger biscuits with my cup of tea which resulted in both indigestion and a sugar rush and consequently put paid to any chance of further serious sleep.

The next morning the news came through that the Sharp tailed Sandpiper had gone and it was now too late to go to Cornwall. I slumped in a chair feeling totally despondent.

My dear wife then announced that our daughter Polly, who was staying in London was going up to commence her studies at Glasgow University today and she was going to see her off from the bus station at London Victoria at 5pm. Did I want to come? Of course I did. Beloved daughter takes precedence over everything - always, and that includes birds!

As birding was now totally off the agenda I was relaxed and looking forward to going to London to see my daughter embark on the next chapter in her life. Just as we were driving to Oxford Station and very near to Farmoor Reservoir, Badger called to announce there was a suspected Citrine Wagtail at Farmoor Reservoir! I could scarcely believe it. I was within two miles of the reservioir but was committed to go to  London and there was no way I was going to let my daughter down. I consoled myself with the hope the wagtail might still be there tomorrow. Badger later rang back to confirm it definitely was a Citrine Wagtail but it had flown off at around noon and no one could refind it.

Sunday arrived and I made my way to Farmoor with very little hope but it had to be done. I was rewarded with a depressing walk around the concrete wastes of Farmoor with some of Oxonbirds finest and an hour later could confirm there was indeed no sign of a Citrine Wagtail at Farmoor.

And what of Cornwall? Well the shearwaters, petrels and assorted seagoing ornithological goodies had been fair whizzing past Pendeen on this, the very day we were meant to be there. I gave up and went home and watched the Test Match cricket on TV. Eventually that was rained off. My wife had gone with friends to watch it live at Lords. That night the wind was really blowing. I had gone to bed early as there was nothing else to do. My wife returned from the cricket at Lords and I slept for a bit and awoke at three in the morning. I was wide awake or at least I thought I was and, as if in a dream, the rest is a blur but suffice to say I was in the car and heading west at 3.30 am. This was daft and not the actions of a rational human being but whatever, I was on the way to Cornwall and at 7.30am I arrived at Pendeen in a strong north westerly wind. I parked the car, donned waterproofs and headed down to the seawatching spot under the lighthouse wall. It was already packed with birders but I found a space in the scrum and set myself up. My chair tilted alarmingly on the uneven surface and I nearly toppled over which would have been embarrassing but I managed to remain upright. Just. 

Almost immediately someone called a Pom and through bleary eyes I managed to locate a pale phase Pom in the wild sea. Very nice. Hordes of Manx Shearwaters were streaming past and I picked up my first Sooty Shearwater. Then a Bonxie and so it went on. The petrels were the worst, as at the distance we were viewIng them they resembled a floater in your eye, so small were they against the vast expanse of sea they were flying over. Microdots appearing and disappearing in the wave troughs. I never saw any of the Leach's Petrels that were called but miraculously found a Wilson's Petrel and two Storm Petrels. I guess age and tiredness were to blame but it can be distressing to miss good birds. I did see most of the Great Shearwaters that came by - ten by the time I left with one close in, just over the rocks of the Wra. Fantastic birds. Sabine's Gulls were also bothersome and I managed to locate some of the birds but not others. I found a Grey Phalarope feeding on the sea just off the Wra as the seawatching, like the wind, veered erratically with various periods of excitement interspersed with long lulls until I left at 1430. I would have liked to continue but my eyes told me otherwise and I longed to see a bird that was static and closer, rather than miles out to sea appearing and disappearing in wave troughs, so you had to keep refinding it, over and over.

I decided to visit the nearby Drift Reservoir. Up to four Pectoral Sandpipers had been reported from here but there was little sign of them, until after a longish walk I finally got to the hide and viewed the northwest corner of the reservoir. At first all I could see on the far shore were two Greenshank, a Turnstone, a Knot, possibly a Dunlin with two Common Sandpipers and two Ringed  Plover. Then another wader, previously obscured, showed itself and I had found one of the Pectoral Sandpipers which was joined by a second but no more. That was about it for Drift apart from a nice Clouded Yellow butterfly on the walk back to the car park. I realised I was very, very tired. 

Now for my final destination I made for the Hayle Estuary, to try and find the Baird's Sandpiper that had not been seen all day. My searching, in fairness, was extensive and thorough but proved fruitless or should I say Bairdless. However four lovely Curlew Sandpipers roosting with some Dunlin at high tide, close to the roadbridge, provided some compensation and enjoyment. I could find little else that was unusual and eventually headed into Hayle to refill the car with fuel and to get some fish and chips. I had just achieved both tasks when my phone rang. It was Badger alerting me to the fact that the Lesser Yellowlegs that had been reported from Wadebridge earlier in the afternoon had  just been re-identified as a Greater Yellowlegs. This was a huge find and merited the twitcher status of 'mega'. It was less than an hour's drive away from Hayle. I had to go for it despite my weariness as I had never seen one in Britain. The tiredness rapidly faded to be replaced by adrenalin. I sped north up the A30 turning off at signs for Wadebridge. I had no specific directions as to where the bird was in Wadebridge, just the name of a location called Treraven Meadows which, according to Badger, was southeast of Wadebridge by the River Camel and accessed by following signs for the Camel Trail, whatever that was. I was now in full on anxiety mode. Would the daylight fade, how long would it take to find the precise location, how on earth would I find it in a town I had never been to before? I arrived in Wadebridge and by some lucky chance saw a sign for the Camel Trail and followed this, encountering other similar signs leading me onwards into a housing estate. Surely this was wrong but then I was driving beside the River Camel  and blow me down, there was a group of birders with telescopes standing on the path by the road looking up the river. The road came to a dead end just beyond them. Surely not here?  The numbers of birders told me otherwise. I literally drove up and parked by them on the road and walked a few feet to join them. A birder, in time honoured fashion motioned to me to look through his scope. Bingo!

A Greater Yellowlegs in almost full summer plumage was stood on a grass mound at the edge of the river. I can remember its legs almost glowing buttercup yellow in the setting sun and the wonderful patterning of random black feathers and white spotting amongst the overall grey brown of its upperparts. 

The underparts were white with many tiny black spots and chevrons. Little things spring to mind. I recall being touched by its blinking when it showed white eyelids and its regular anxious bobbing of its head and forebody. 

I got my scope from the car and just enjoyed studying it. As the tidal river slowly receded so more and more saltmarsh was exposed and the bird eventually flew much closer to us so that I could even take some half decent images of it with my camera - well 730 to be precise! I watched it for an hour in a lovely, soft, evening light. I had an awfully long way to drive home this evening but I was now wide awake and it would pose me no problems. 

My run of bad luck had at last come to a spectacular conclusion.