What a Surprise! 8th December 2024

Yesterday, Saturday, the weather was apochryphal as Storm Darragh brought 80mph winds and lashing rain to Britain. I was tempted to go to my local Farmoor Reservoir in the hope the extreme weather might bring a storm blown seabird such as a Gannet or an 'in your dreams' Leach's Petrel to this most inland of reservoirs.

However Thames Water sensibly closed the reservoir to visitors so the matter was taken out of my hands.All day the wind and rain hammered at the house, the gusts getting ever stronger in the late afternoon and early evening.

General opinion on local social media suggested the reservoir would again be closed the following day Sunday as the wind was still predicted to be very strong although the rain might have ceased.

Nevertheless I resolved to try Farmoor first thing in the morning, reasoning that if it was still closed I could view the reservoir with a telescope from the Countryside Walk which encircles the reservoir.outside the boundary fence.I still harboured hopes of a Gannet or Leach's Petrel and now, ever the optimist I added Grey Phalarope to my fanciful wishlist 

Well why not?

Deciding to set off early, well at 8am, I was pleased to find any floods around our part of Oxfordshire had not materialised and the fallen branches from yesterday had been cleared from the rural roads around our village. Being a Sunday the roads were mostly devoid of traffic so I soon arrived at the reservoir to find the gates were open. So far so good. I drove through the gates, parked the car and headed for the central causeway.The wind reained extremely strong and being from the northeast, cold as well and every so often an extra strong gust of wind threatened to bowl me over.Needless to say no one else was on the causeway..I had it all to myself.

And no wonder as the  wind continuously and relentlessly  battered me sideways as it swept unhindered across the open waters of the reservoir.

Sadly there was nothing to see from the causeway apart from a pair of Greater Black backed Gulls that treated the wind as if it was nothing, making great sweeps across the churning waters without once flapping their wings. At the far end of the causeway, in the lee of the wave wall where it was sheltered from the wind, Tufted Ducks and Coots had gathered to feed and relax. I also found the wintering Common Sandpiper here, wandering by the water's edge in the comparative calm, reluctant to fly, knowing it would be swept away on the wind. Common Sandpipers usually do not allow you anywhere near them but possibly due to the wind it allowed me to walk past without fleeing from my presence. This is the fourth year that a Common Sandpiper has wintered on the reservoir and although unlikely it could just possibly be the same individual that has been present for all four years.

I decided to carry on walking around the smaller basin F1, to see if a phalarope might be feeding by the concrete shore, currently being lashed by white surf, but predictably there was nothing.

I completed the mile  circuit and on getting back to the cafe decided a coffee might be nice but was informed the cafe was closed due to a power cut.

What to do? 

Let's give the larger basin, F2 a go. 

You never know. That elusive phalarope might just be lurking out there.

Nothing ventured nothing gained or something like that. 

Birders are forever optmistic and having Farmoor Reservoir as your local patch elevates that requirement to a whole other level, believe me.

I immediately regretted my decision as the full force of a very strong wind hit me. Blind obstinacy made me carry on as the breaking waters hit the wall in a surge of white froth and spray. Of birds there was predictably no sign apart from two Pied Wagtails which were foolish enough to fly up from under the wave wall only to be instantly caught by the wind and, barely in control hurled downwind far behind me. It was like this until I got to the southwestern corner which provided partial shelter from the full force of the wind. 

Flotillas of Coots and Tufted Ducks had congregated on the calmer water here but on checking them there was no sign of a hoped for Scaup. See what I mean about being optimistic? The garrulous Greylag Geese were for once silenced, squatting asleep on the grass by the perimeter track with heads firmly reversed into their feathers as the wind whipped over the grass, their bodies grey mounds facing into the unforgiving wind. They did not even bother to remove their heads from their feathers as I walked by a few feet from them.

Further along, by the western wall of the basin I came to a small gathering of Mallards resting on the concrete that shelves down to the water. They too were asleep. Through watering eyes I nearly overlooked a small wader, right at the water's edge near to them. My initial reaction was that it must be the Common Sandpiper that had moved from the end of the causeway.

But the rotund, crouching profile of the bird gave me pause for thought and checking in my bins I  could see an overall plump, greyish body but it was the bill that told me what it was. Medium long, with an orange base and slight kink at its tip. It could only be one thing - a Purple Sandpiper.

I could hardly believe it. 

At last a reward for the countless times I have circuited the reservoir only to find nothing exceptional. But this is why we do it, an eternal optimism that every day may be the one when I find something out of the ordinary here.

Purple Sandpipers are usually confiding and this individual was no exception.Slowly, I walked towards it, the bird paused briefly to regard me and then, unconcerned, carried on feeding, picking at the concrete and probing holes and cracks for food.

I ventured closer until I was almost opposite and no more than ten feet away. There was no reaction.

Now came the realisation that I had left my camera in the car.So used to not having it for the last month it had slipped my mind to take it with me and it was a long walk/jog to get back to the car and retrieve it. Torn between remaining and admiring the sandpiper or going to get the camera to record this momentous event, I opted for the latter. There was no one else on the reservoir to disturb it and the bird itself seemed content and settled.. I would have to take a chance. It would be a good twenty minutes running and fast walking but it had to be done or there would be no photos, which would be unbearable.

I called Andy who I had met earlier near the cafe and now was somewhere else on the reservoir and relayed my find to him. I also put out the news on my local Oxon Bird Forum Whats App group for anyone local who might be interested.

I raced off to return to the car as fast as possible, cursing my foolishness in leaving the camera behind.It seemed to take an age but finally I was there. Jumping in the car I drove up and onto the perimeter track  to get back to where the sandpiper was. Anxiety that it might have flown off was foremost in my mind as I drove but I need not have worried. The Mallard had departed but the sandpiper remained in splendid isolation, feeding in that distinctive crouching style of their's, probing the holes and gaps in the concrete shelving and even wading into the shallow water at its edge. 

Purple Sandpipers spend the winter in Britain on piers and rocks by the sea so the churning waters and breaking waves on the concrete of the reservoir were undoubtedly familiar and of no real concern to it and probably made it feel at home. 

The prominently pale edges to the wing coverts indicated it to be a first winter bird.Where it had come from was anybody's guess and where it was bound for was again open to conjecture.Maybe it had been storm blown from the coast or more likely was making its way overland to a southern coastline when the storm arrived and forced it to put down onto the reservoir and wait for better weather 

So many maybe's and no real answers!

Farmoor's concrete certainly suited it as I have seen them spending the winter on concrete piers at the coast such as those at Newhaven in Sussex and Brixham in Devon.

This bird was the twenty second to be recorded at Farmoor Reservoir and the first to be seen here in the month of December. I also found the last to be recorded here before today when I discovered a juvenile on the causeway three years ago on 31st August 2021.My encounter with that one was equally unexpected and again came after a fruitless walk around the reservoir.

The first Purple Sandpiper recorded at Farmoor was as long ago as September 1976 and all, apart from one in May 2011, have been found during the months of August-November, with the latter month the most popular with seven records.

The Purple Sandpiper had gone by the following morning