Four Days on Fuerteventura 8th January 2018

Day One

Scrolling through my RBA (Rare Bird Alert) app. for records of birds currently being found in Britain I came across an intriguing report of a Dwarf Bittern that had been found at Barranco de Rio Cabras which is located near to a town called Puerto del Rosario on Fuerteventura in the Canary Islands. Now, although nowhere near Britain, RBA do occasionally publish records of birds whose extreme rarity they know will be of interest to British birders.This was one of them.

This Dwarf Bittern was only the fourth record for The Canaries, the second record for Fuerteventura and the fifth record for the Western Palearctic, so it would be a very good bird to see indeed. Dwarf Bitterns normally inhabit tropical and sub tropical Africa all year round, with the northernmost and southernmost populations being migratory in the dry season. The only one I have ever seen before was very briefly, many years ago, on my honeymoon at Lake Kariba in Zimbabwe so it would be very nice to get a much better and prolonged view of this particularly showy individual, as they are an attractively plumaged member of the heron family and normally very secretive.

I have also long harboured a desire to go to Fuerteventura as it contains other good birds, most notably for me, with a more than passing interest in stonechats, the endemic Fuerteventura Stonechat. (See 'Stonechats. A Guide to the Genus Saxicola' which I wrote in 2002).  As the days passed and I saw brilliant pictures of the Dwarf Bittern and read the reports  that regularly appeared on the internet from other British birders who had made the visit, it became apparent that the bittern had taken up long term residence in its favoured barranco and was unlikely to move  in the near future. I began to form a plan.

There was little I could do before Christmas due to personal and work commitments and only a short period was available during January. I proposed my still, admittedly vague plan, to my good friend Badger just before Christmas and after due consideration he decided to join me. The main criteria was to keep the cost down and I managed to come up with a total cost of around £270.00 for each of us including flights, four nights accommodation and car hire. This meant we could spend four days on Fuerteventura from the 8th to 12th January, hopefully seeing the Dwarf Bittern on the first day and then go on in the ensuing three days to find as many of the other Fuerteventura bird specialities as possible.

I downloaded several trip reports by other birders to give us details of other sites to visit and another good friend and Oxonbirder Pete Barker, who knows Fuerteventura well, gave me specific directions for Tindaya Plain which is good for Houbara Bustards and other desert specialities, while Peter Law also an Oxonbirder, who had visited Fuerteventura some two weeks earlier to see the bittern, gave me a detailed map showing precisely where to find the bittern, so I was pretty well primed with up to date information.

I collected Badger from his home in Abingdon on Sunday and we made our way to my sister's house in Harlow, Essex to spend the night there as she had very kindly agreed to drive us to nearby Stansted at 3am on Monday morning to catch a four hour Ryanair flight  to Fuerteventura, departing from Stansted at 6.30am.

In a daze we negotiated the automated baggage check without mishap and then endured the indignities of the security check to finally come to rest and sit semi comatose in the departure lounge along with hundreds of other bleary eyed early morning travellers. The Ryanair flight was bearable, as by the time I boarded the plane I was so tired I slept most of the way.

What a change greeted us as we departed the cramped plane at Fuerteventura airport. From the cold, dark and grey climes at Stansted we were now in a balmy, sunny mid morning with light winds and a pleasant temperature of just above 20C. There was no queue for passport control just a cursory check of our passports and, even better, we were able to make an immediate collection of our hold luggage, so in a very short time we were stood in a queue waiting to get our hire car from Goldcar.

An interminable wait ensued as two ladies in front of us asked a million questions of the clerk but eventually after some confusion and the inevitable extra costs that no one ever tells you about, we got our car key and were given vague directions as to where we would find our car. Another wander about the car park ensued as with precious few directions and with no sign of the promised person to meet us and show us to our car we had to work it out for ourselves.

We made the decision to check into our accommodation first and then get down to some serious birding so made the very short car journey to Puerto del Rosario to find a huge complex of apartments in blocks, each with an identifying name. Ours was La Piramide. Our room was not ready but we were told we could leave our bags in a back room and check in later. Thus we were finally birding at around noon.

Fuerteventura is the second largest of the Canary Islands, situated in the Atlantic Ocean and although  just 100km off Morocco is politically part of Spain. It was declared a biosphere reserve by UNESCO in 2009 and in size the island is only 100km long by 32km wide

My first impression of Fuerteventura was of how depressingly barren and stony it was. The whole landscape was an uninspiring arid brown, the drabness only offset by the magnificent mountainous topography surrounding the  barren plains. Puerto del Rosario, which is the capital, added to my decidedly underwhelmed impression as the arid land all around was being rapidly built on, with  bleak, unattractive apartment blocks seemingly being placed at random to cater for, presumably, the tourist trade. This part of the island was certainly not my idea of the ideal holiday destination but for many others it most definitely was.

Greenery in the form of vegetation was in very short supply and the majority of the greenery we did encounter was of palm trees, cactus and various succulent plants, testament to the arid nature of the land. Where there was fresh water, such as in a minority of the barrancos, there was green vegetation in the form of various unidentifiable plants, bushes and the occasional small tree.

With grateful thanks to Peter Law who had provided us with the detailed map to the bittern's location,  we were soon driving off the tarmac main road onto an unsurfaced track leading towards Barranco de Rio Cabras, which was conveniently, not many kilometres from both our accommodation and the airport.

Despite Peter's map and maybe because of our tiredness we were still uncertain we were in the right place but driving to the end of the track we made enquiries of a friendly but armed security guard at a gate to a landfill and waste recycling site and he pointed  out the barranco off to our right. We parked the car back up the road and set off to walk the two to three hundred metres across barren and stony ground to the barranco's edge. Barranco is Spanish for ravine or gorge.Some are precipitous and steep while others are shallower. Many are dry but some do have water in them which can vary during the seasons.

Barranco de Rio Cabras did have water but only in very shallow pools and many parts were dry so we concentrated on those parts with water. It was also quite a deep ravine in parts, about a hundred feet with rocky bare slopes but where there was water there were greener patches of bushes and what looked like the occasional small mimosa or tamarisk tree but the overall sense of barren aridity was still very evident. The part of the barranco with standing water was where the bittern had been seen the most, so we concentrated our efforts there.

We were the only birders present and we could find no sign of the bittern. Panic had not yet set in but we were worried as we walked the edge of the barranco looking down for any sign of a diminutive blue grey bittern. There were plenty of other birds on the largest pool of water including six Black winged Stilts, a couple each of Green Sandpipers and Common Snipe, a Ringed Plover and a White Wagtail. Ravens came and went regularly overhead.

Black winged Stilts

A pair of Fuerteventura Stonechats, my first ever, flitted about in the sparse vegetation by the main pool or perched on the rocks. Collared Doves were everywhere and a pair  of very wary Ruddy Shelduck perched on the other side of the barranco, at the top, while a couple of Moorhens slipped in and out of the bankside vegetation below, but of the bittern there was no sign.

We walked along the course of the barranco covering all the areas holding water but could only find a Southern Grey Shrike, looking so much darker grey than those that winter in Britain, hunting from the rocks and boulders at the base of the barranco. I found a dead Grey Heron amongst the rocks but it had black legs and feet when normally they are greeny yellow so the question arose do Grey Herons on Fuerteventura have black legs or does the colour change in death? 

It was very steep here, the rock faces falling dramatically to the bottom where a trickle of a stream flowed through.We saw two other birders at the bottom sitting on the rocks having their lunch but it was obvious they too had not found any sign of the bittern. An immature Canarian Egyptian Vulture flew along a distant mountainside as we approached the hour mark in our so far fruitless search.

Very tired from our early start back in Britain it was inevitable that our spirits sank and our optimism became but a distant memory. We were now talking of coming back tomorrow but with one final throw of the metaphorical dice Badger suggested we drive further back along the track and cover another stretch of the barranco, just in case. We slowly trudged across the stony wastes back to the car and as we did an adult Canarian Egyptian Vulture, one of whose two threatened Canary Island populations is found on the island, was flying with a large number of Yellow legged Gulls over the landfill site.We watched it soaring and gliding and it commenced to come closer and closer and then even closer until it was virtually overhead.What a magnificent bird to see with its huge white and black wings spread wide to catch the warm air rising from the stony plain and its distinctive triangular shaped tail.This temporarily made us feel a little better about matters but only a sighting of the Dwarf Bittern could make our day truly complete and put our minds at rest.

Adult Egyptian Vulture

We duly drove a kilometre or so back along the dirt road and leaving the car once again by the road, made another three hundred metre walk back to the barranco and commenced another search. It was now quite hot but a constant light breeze refreshed us.

I decided to remain at the top edge of the barranco whilst Badger headed lower to try and reach the bottom and we lost sight of each other. Five minutes later as I peered over the drop and down into the barranco I saw the two birders we had seen earlier below me, and just as this happened a  small, dark, bow winged bird flew slowly past me and over the two birders below. It was the Dwarf Bittern, which flew towards the large pool, then turned sharply and appeared to land high up on the rocky face of the barranco. I yelled to Badger but got no reply so descended down to the floor of the barranco as fast as I could and with the other two birders, who were German, followed to where we thought the bittern had landed. We crossed, along the top of a small dam of stones, onto the opposite side of the barranco  to where the bittern had flown and scanned the rocky face opposite but had no luck in finding it. Badger had by now joined us and I told him of what had just happened. We ascended higher up the rock strewn slope of the barranco to get a better view of the opposite side and one of the German birders found the bittern perched high up on the rocks.

The tiny dam at the bottom of the barranco that we crossed
to view the Dwarf Bittern

Our first view of the Dwarf Bittern

This was my first proper sight of this, the tiniest member of the heron family. It really was very small, only between 25-30cms in size and was a lovely slate grey colour on its head and upperparts, turning bluish in sunlight, and with boldly streaked creamy underparts, yellow legs and brighter golden yellow feet. The noticeable contrast between the body and wing feathers would suggest this bird is a second calendar year male, that is, it was born last year. A little gem of a bird, it stood motionless, as is their way, moving its head very slowly every so often to adjust its view. We stood with our German colleagues and enjoyed the not unwelcome sensation of having moved from despair to elation in just a few minutes.

Ten minutes later the Germans bade us farewell and left us to ourselves. I suggested to Badger that we just remain where we were, sat amongst the rocks on our side of the barranco and see if the bittern would fly down to the water below and commence feeding. Nothing much happened for fifteen minutes but then the bittern flew down to the water and did exactly what we hoped it would do. It clambered over the rocks to get to the water's edge and commenced to hunt, walking with exaggeratedly slow steps and cautious movements alongside the water. Every so often it would extend its neck and long bill like a dagger, poised to stab at a fish or other aquatic prey. Their diet is quite varied, ranging from grasshoppers, water bugs, spiders and snails, to fish and frogs.

We were surely in dreamland as we watched it feeding but then it flew up and perched on some adjacent bright green bushes which gave us an even better and closer view of it and there it remained for a few minutes before descending back to the water by running along a horizontal branch and then furtively creeping through the vegetation to the waterside. Everything was done with extreme stealth and economy of movement.

Then, for no apparent reason, it flew back up to the barranco's rock face for another spell of perching and immobility. We certainly had not disturbed it nor could I see anything else that would cause it concern. Other birders had said if the bittern was disturbed it disappeared into the surrounding vegetation but from what we were observing it looked more likely it flew up to the rock face. We sat stock still and after a few minutes the bittern flew back to perch within just a few metres of us on some large boulders in mid stream, then crept on its  enormous golden yellow feet from boulder to boulder before descending to the water's edge to again fish and hunt prey.

It had been an hour now of intensive bittern watching on our part and as we looked on, the bittern raised its head once more and flew back past us to the place from whence we had first encountered it. We left it at that, as there was no possible way we were going to improve on the experience of the last hour.

Our view looking down into the barranco and at the pools of water where the
Dwarf Bittern fed and wandered about

Badger videoing the Dwarf Bittern in the Barranco de Rio Cabras. Note the
steep rocky wall on the other side of the barranco

Badger decided to have a wander around to see what else he could find but feeling very tired now I remained sat on a large boulder waiting to see what else would come my way. I have often found this can pay dividends if you have the patience and time. There had been a pair of Fuerteventura Stonechats flying about earlier and I felt it would be nice to watch them for an extended period to study their plumage and behaviour. It took some time for them to come close but eventually the male flew to a perch just below me and here was my opportunity for some photos.The male certainly lived up to the name stonechat, often preferring to perch on the tops of boulders to fly up and seize insects although on other occasions it would perch on the spiky stems of dead plants and use them as a vantage point. Their behaviour is very similar to 'our' European Stonechat in Britain and so is their call.The male's song was also similar, being a series of inconsequential thin and insipid notes. In appearance when I viewed them, although superficially similar to a European Stonechat they look structurally different with their heads seeming just a bit too large in proportion to their body and tail. The male had a similar busby like, dark brown to black head but differed in having a prominent white supercilium and all white chin and throat  Its underparts were faded to a dull white with just a small area of orange or yellow buff on the upper breast. The female was quite pale overall, and had a buff and less distinct supercilium rather than the white of the male. The upperparts were pale greyish brown with darker streaks while the underparts were faded to buff white.

Male Fuerteventura Stonechat

Female Fuerteventura Stonechat

A male Spectacled Warbler briefly visited some very unfriendly looking thorn bushes and then chased a ChiffChaff at high speed around one of the mimosa trees. 

Male Spectacled Warbler

Trumpeter Finches fed on the rock face at the top of the barranco, their distinctive calls coming down from on high, betraying their presence and a Berthelot's Pipit came to drink from the water amongst the rocks. A goat from a nearby goat farm found a perilous resting place on the rocks just below the skyline, as a Hoopoe flew in to hunt amongst the rocks below it and a Common Kestrel perched near to the goat. Badger returned from his wanderings and as the afternoon was now waning fast we decided that we had done pretty well for our first day on Fuerteventura. 

Common Kestrel of the endemic race Falco.t.dacotiae

As we left, another Southern Great Grey Shrike sang, if you can call it such, from its perch on a pylon and a Cattle Egret flew across the sky in front of us.

We returned to check in at La Piramide and finally found ourselves ensconced in our apartment which was a basic room with a bathroom and bedroom attached and looking out onto a large swimming pool. It was far from luxury but was perfectly adequate for our needs. All we needed was a bed for each night, as for each subsequent day we would be out birding from dawn to dusk. Tonight we availed ourselves of La Piramide's restaurant buffet which cost ten euros for all you could eat and drink with no questions asked.

Once we had eaten neither of us was in the mood for staying up late and we were probably asleep almost as soon as our heads hit the pillows, dreaming of our fabulous time with the Dwarf Bittern. 

It had been quite a day.

to be continued......................

A Gloster Double 31st December 2017

The last day of the year dawned dark and drear. The fag end of a dreadful twelve months worldwide with seemingly endless wars and conflicts, a racist, sexist, pathetic braggart and bully running the most powerful country in the world whilst Britain is stuck with a compassionless wicked witch with a face that would curdle milk, busily ruining this country rather than face up to the lying, and shameless egotists that comprise her Government.

I was clearly suffering from a bad case of PCBS (Post Christmas Blues Syndrome) and needed cheering up badly. I knew the cure for me was to get out and do some birding, so 9.30am found me collecting Moth from his home in Eynsham to make an hour's drive to Gloucestershire to go and see a very co-operative Great Northern Diver near Sharpness Docks by the River Severn and then we would follow this up with another crack at the female Penduline Tit that was nearby at Plock Court Water Meadow, Longford. For a day at least all my troubles and concerns about the world I live in would be banished.

Although it was initially raining as we descended from the Cotswold escarpment, the sky was clearing in the west and though the sun never quite managed an appearance the sky lightened and the rain ceased as we neared our destination. Turning off the Motorway we followed the signs for Sharpness Docks. Fortunately I had been given detailed directions by Mike King of Gloster Birder fame (see here) and following his meticulous directions we found ourselves driving around the perimeter of the docks, today a silent and deserted industrial area that had clearly seen better days but still, apparently, functioning as a working dock. Despite Mike's directions we still required one final bit of assistance which came courtesy of a friendly gent walking a large Alsatian dog and then we were parking the car just below the Docker's Social Club in an area of rain filled craters that passed for a car park of sorts. We donned wellies and warm clothing and headed off with cameras and bins along a cinder track that led towards the Severn Estuary and the SARA (Severn Area Rescue Association) pool which was one of the favourite places of the Great Northern Diver.

The diver, according to earlier reports, also liked other adjacent areas to the SARA pool such as the small marina and the Sharpness canal itself, both leading off from the SARA pool. There had been no report about the diver this morning and the last report of it yesterday was from the SARA pool so we thought it best to try there first.

As we descended the track we were on a hill of sorts with the huge river estuary some fifty or so feet below us to our left and the SARA pool to our right and at a slightly lower elevation to us, with the SARA Life Boat Station overlooking both the pool and the estuary. As we walked down to the level of the pool I could see, through the trees, silhouetted on the grey waters of the pool, the distinctive profile of a Great Northern Diver, so now we could relax as we did not need to worry about searching for it in the canal or marina

Moth on the track by the SARA pool with the
Lifeboat Station in the background and the
Severn Estuary just beyond the wall

The SARA pool looking over to the far wooded
bank where there is no access

The SARA pool looking down towards the
Marina and the Sharpness canal

The SARA Lifeboat Station

The diver was remarkably confiding as you can see from the images below. It was feeding and moving around the pool on a leisurely circuit and by positioning ourselves strategically at various points on the track running around one side of the pool we tried to anticipate where the diver would next  surface. This worked out quite well and on a few occasions it surfaced within literally feet of us and showed no real alarm as it regarded us through its claret coloured eyes.

Juvenile Great Northern Diver

The diver was a juvenile, as evidenced by the pale fringes to the feathers of its back forming a scaly pattern of grey semi circles across its upperparts. Great Northern Divers are large birds and although their movements are ponderous compared to the more rapid movements of smaller birds there is still a casual grace to their actions, none more so than when they slide like silk below the water. You cannot call it a dive as there is no initial leap, like a Cormorant, to give it impetus as it submerges  or using wings to pull it down below the surface as with Guillemots and Razorbills, but just a supreme languid slide of incomparable and effortless grace below the water, causing scarcely a ripple.

We followed the diver around as it circuited the pool via a series of dives, progressing first to one end and then to the other. We hid behind a large red lifebuoy by the pool's edge but really it was not necessary as the diver did not seem to bother about us or any of the other occasional birders and people out for a Sunday morning  stroll. Even the dreaded dogs did not cause it concern.

I think my enthusiasm was beginning to worry Moth as I kept urging him to follow me to where I next anticipated the diver would surface after a dive. If I was honest we could have just stood in one spot and waited for the diver to come to us as it slowly circuited the pool but adrenalin and excitement can sometimes be difficult to curb.

Eventually we all ended up at one end of the pool and the diver co-operated beautifully and we got fantastic close up views of the bird. To be within just a few feet of such a bird was a unique experience for me and I made the most of it. There was much to admire. Its enormous steel coloured bill was truly impressive, carried on a large head with a curious ridged bump at the top of its forehead. We could see just how far back on its body its legs were placed allowing it to propel itself so effortlessly through and under the water. Often it sunk its body low in the water allowing the water to wash over where its neck joined its body. Perfectly adapted to its environment it was as if it was one with the water on which it will spend virtually its entire life.

The weather remained stubbornly dull, that kind of a day where you lose all track of time as the weather gives no clue as to what part of the day you are in. We glanced over the wall behind us, down and across to a huge expanse of mud exposed by the falling tide. It looked desolate, bleak and cold down there as gulls, mainly Black headed, clustered on a distant sand bar and part of a tree cartwheeled end on end in the outgoing river current.

The time was approaching noon and we turned to head back up the track to the car as we now had our sights set on the Penduline Tit at Longworth. This required a thirty minute journey back down the Motorway to the other side of Gloucester which was achieved easily enough but only to find that the car park gate for Plock Court Meadow was firmly shut necessitating us to park in the nearby residential road.

This was not a major problem and with the car safely parked we walked out across a very wet and soggy grass meadow to the three small, shallow ponds each with its complement of Great Reedmace or bulrushes as it is more commonly known, that comprise Plock Court Wetlands.

Plock Court Wetlands showing the three ponds

There was no one else here apart from a couple who told us they had arrived ten minutes before us.The lady was wielding a large lens and said she thought she had already seen the Penduline Tit and taken its photo but was not certain. I asked to have a look and she showed me a male European Stonechat! Presumably it was the same one as was here on my previous visit.

With only ourselves and the other couple present it was obvious that we would have to go looking for the tit. We checked the first of the ponds and the second but failed to find anything apart from the male stonechat and a couple of Long tailed Tits, which flew over to the third pond. We walked over to this pond and flushed the two Long tailed Tits from the bulrushes but also a smaller, paler bird with a rich chestnut back and peachy underparts, that flew to and perched in a small bush of wild rose, all bare twigs, thorns and red haws.

Female Penduline Tit

The tiny bird was the Penduline Tit and almost in unison we exclaimed 'That's it!' 

The Penduline Tit remained perched for a minute or two and I waved to the couple who were on the other side of the pond, silently indicating that we had found it. By the time they got to us the tit had, unfortunately, flown off. Moth thought it might have dropped into the reedmace again but after standing around for at least forty five minutes, looking wistfully at the bulrushes, there was no sign of it. Somewhat despondent we stood motionless as the sky darkened and a rain squall lashed at us, carried on a strong southwest wind. It was not pleasant but fifteen minutes later the rain abated. However there was still no sign of the tit. By now a few other birders had joined us but they brought no change of fortune. A Sparrowhawk flew over and some Meadow Pipits in the wet grass peep peeped in alarm.

We split up and wandered round, checking each separate pond but not really believing we would find the tit and then, as is often the way, the most unlikely person found it. The lady who had mistaken the stonechat for the tit discovered it, perched close by in the straggly unkempt hedgerow separating the wetlands from the busy road on the other side.

This was our opportunity to get reasonably close to it and in one person's case, who had recently arrived, too close but what can you do or say. The tit was obviously unsettled by all the attention and flew along the hedgerow from place to place. It clearly wanted to come back to the bulrushes to feed but the attention it was getting dissuaded it until, at last, it flew high from the hedge, over our heads and dropped into the bulrushes in the pond where we had first found it. Or so we thought.

Another forty minutes passed as we surveyed the bulrushes for movement but there was no sign. We were happy with what we had seen so I suggested to Moth that before we departed we walk just one more time past the other two ponds, just in case the bird had given us the slip again. We saw nothing until at the last and smallest pond Moth saw the Penduline Tit clinging to a bulrush head in the classic pose made so familiar from photographs. It appeared so tiny and its brown upperparts beautifully camouflaged it against the brown velvety bulrush head as it busily probed through the seeds to find the grubs within.

We watched it feeding on the bulrush head for a few minutes before it dropped down into the tangle of dead leaves and stalks below. Here it was much more obscured as it hopped about, alternately appearing and disappearing in the broken stems and the bent and brittle leaves. We watched for a good ten minutes before it flew onwards to the middle pond and disappeared into yet more bulrushes.

It had been good while it lasted and well worth the wait but now we both agreed it really was time to go.