Local birds & RSPB Ham Wall :: 14-18 August 2026

Even before Kev @kev07713 and I had a chance to discuss plans for our Saturday birding trip, a white-winged black tern appeared on Friday morning at Wildlife Trust BCN Summer Leys, with reports quickly coming through on the Northants WhatsApp group and BirdGuides. I was out playing pickleball when I spotted the news, and messaged Kev on the way home to see if he had already been or fancied going. He was up for it, so once I got home, I quickly changed, grabbed my gear and picked him up on the way. We had confirmation from Trevor Ellery that the bird was still present, as there had been no further update on BirdGuides and nobody had responded to my message in the WhatsApp group.

We arrived having talked with Stuart Mundy enroute to check where it was best viewed from. Stuart said he'd still be there when we arrived and that the best views were from beside or inside the Pioneer hide and that is where we made for. We got to the hide to find four birders on scopes beside the ramp up to the hide and joined them, hearing that the tern had been showing up and down the main lake but was currently out of view to our right. In a couple of minutes, it appeared distantly above the reeds flying away. I managed to see it and get my tick, but Kev missed it being shorter and still obscured by the reeds. We needn't have worried as true to form the bird repeatedly fished up and down the same channel - unfortunately always distant.

The bird itself was a moulting adult, giving it a wonderfully variable appearance as it transitions from breeding into winter plumage. The once-black head and underparts were broken up with patches of white, creating a mottled, almost untidy look, while the pale grey upperparts contrasted with the strikingly white rump and tail. The white wings were particularly noticeable in flight, making it stand out against the more familiar black terns. Although not in the pristine black-and-white plumage of a breeding adult, the transitional plumage arguably made it even more interesting to watch. With heat haze and distance, the photos were a little disappointing.

White-winged black tern is a rare vagrant in the UK, with only occasional records as birds overshoot from their breeding range in continental Europe and beyond. Most British sightings occur during late spring and summer, making any local appearance a real event for birders.

There were three spotted redshanks on the far bank, while handfuls of common terns passed through as we watched and waited for intermittent views of the white-winged black tern. One useful point of reference was an iron-age pigs, which had been introduced to Summer Leys in early August as part of Wildlife Trust BCN’s habitat-management work. Having previously been grazing at Lilbourne, where it was being used to root out invasive vegetation, it has now been moved to Summer Leys to continue their work and provide visitors with an opportunity to see them in action.

As this was an unscheduled outing Kev and I had things to do at home and so after popping into the hide to talk with Stuart and Ricky Sinfield, we said our goodbyes and headed home.

Now it was time for our regular Saturday birding trip, and this week we decided to head down to RSPB Ham Wall, hoping to finally catch up with a purple heron, a species that had eluded us the previous year. Purple heron is a scarce but increasingly regular migrant to Britain, with around 25 birds recorded in a typical year. Most occur during the summer and autumn, with sightings concentrated mainly in southern and eastern England, although birds can turn up almost anywhere.

Numbers vary considerably from year to year, but records have increased over recent decades as the species has expanded its range in mainland Europe - purple heron remains a real rarity in Britain, however. Although primarily regarded as a migrant, there have also been occasional breeding attempts, with confirmed breeding still exceptionally rare.

According to RSPB and observers there are two purple herons on the site at present, an adult and a juvenile. The report from Friday night suggested that the juvenile bird had been seen between the Avalon hide and VP2, then flying towards the hide.

As we stopped at VP1, we scanned the water but couldn't find anything of note. An elderly gentleman sitting nearby with a large camera mounted on a tripod confirmed that we'd not missed anything. As we began to leave, he called us back to let us know that Kev had left something on the bench. As Kev turned to walk away, he suddenly spotted a bittern partially emerged from the base of the reeds - a nice bonus that we'd completely missed!

Ham Wall is one of the country's strongholds for bittern, forming part of the wider Avalon Marshes population, which supports a substantial number of breeding birds. Although I can't find an exact current count, bitterns remain a regular feature of the reserve with 18-20 booming males, with the reedbeds providing ideal habitat for this notoriously elusive species.

We made our way through the reserve and reached the turn in the track towards the Avalon Hide. Rather than following that path, we decided to investigate the pool immediately to the right, where we could see several white egrets through the trees. There was no one else down the slope, but further along, in front of VP2, we spotted three birders with scopes, one of whom had a camera raised to his eye. That was enough to convince us to hot foot it over there.

We quickly set up our scopes and asked if they were on the bird. They pointed towards an island at the back of the pool, where the purple heron was surprisingly easy to pick out, perched prominently on top of the island just a few feet from a great white egret. It was distant, but thankfully not too distant for photography, although heat haze seems always to be a potential problem currently. Fortunately, on this occasion it only had a slight effect, allowing us to get some reasonable record shots.

Purple herons have a habit of spending considerable periods concealed among the reeds, so seeing this juvenile bird sitting fully exposed in such a prominent position was a real bonus.

We'd missed that part of the show - just the luck of the draw.

Eventually, it climbed down behind the island and disappeared from view. We waited, and waited, hoping it would reappear or perhaps take to the air, but neither happened. Instead, we had to make do with the impressive collection of herons and egrets around the pool: more than 20 great white egrets, a handful of little egrets, a single cattle egret, and several grey herons, all feeding in the water or resting on the islands.

Meanwhile, various dragonflies were patrolling up and down the path, including one that repeatedly dropped onto the ground beside us - a black-tailed skimmer.

Eventually, we grew tired of waiting and, already more than satisfied with our prolonged views of the purple heron, decided to head back and make our way down to the Avalon Hide. We stopped on a bridge spanning a relatively stagnant pool, a spot where we'd previously had encounters with water rails, and while we stood watching, Kev suddenly pointed to the mud beside us and said, "Weasel!"

Almost as soon as I'd picked it up, it darted into the reeds and disappeared. We eventually relocated it on a distant log and tried for a few photos, but foliage was frustratingly in the way, and I couldn't manage anything worth keeping. It retreated again before popping out once more, and I once again failed to get a decent shot as it turned and faced us. Kev, the photographer, managed to lock onto it and got the shot. These small, elusive predators can be surprisingly difficult to see, so any encounter is a welcome bonus.

The weasel made one final appearance, dashing along the log before jumping into the water and swimming across the narrow channel, its progress through the duckweed leaving a faint trail behind it. I managed to get one serviceable photo before it entered the water, and I was more than happy with that.

The weasel is Britain's smallest carnivore and is widespread across England, Wales and Scotland, occupying a wide variety of habitats from farmland and woodland edges to grassland, wetlands and urban areas. Despite being relatively common, they are notoriously elusive, spending much of their time hunting beneath vegetation, along field edges and around banks and ditches. Their slender shape allows them to pursue prey into tunnels and burrows, with small mammals, particularly voles and mice, forming an important part of their diet.

We moved on to the Avalon Hide, where we joined around a dozen other birders. We found seats by the windows, giving us a good view across the pools and plenty of room to set up our scopes and scan the reedbeds and exposed mud. Kev was soon onto a water rail on a distant point, working its way along the edge of the reeds, repeatedly appearing and disappearing as it probed the exposed mud for food. A couple more water rails would be spotted later, although these were even further away.

In the shorter reeds in front of the hide, a glossy ibis was busy preening before eventually flying further to the right to feed among the stems. A second ibis was also showing further along the channel. Photography was largely a matter of patience, waiting for the birds to emerge from the denser vegetation and offer a clear view. When they did, the sunlight picked out the subtle iridescent colours in their plumage, revealing flashes of green, purple and bronze across the otherwise dark-looking bird.

Glossy ibis has gone from being a genuine rarity in Britain to an increasingly regular visitor, with birds now turning up at suitable wetland sites across the country. Although still a relatively scarce bird, it is no longer the exceptional find it once was, and some individuals have become remarkably faithful to particular sites.

The glossy ibis in front of the hide took flight and headed left towards the area where the first water rail had been feeding. As it approached, the ibis seemed to take exception to the water rail's presence, opening its wings to make itself look larger before breaking into a determined jog towards it. The display was enough to flush the water rail back into the safety of the reed cover.

We turned our attention to scanning through the other birds around the pools, of which there were plenty. The most notable were two spotted redshanks, both now fully moulted out of their dark breeding plumage and showing their much plainer winter appearance. While watching these, I picked out another wader further out beyond the spotted redshanks - a green sandpiper, feeding methodically along the water's edge.

We were pleased we'd made the effort to visit the hide and spent some more time enjoying the variety of birds on offer. Eventually, though, it was time to start making our way back towards the visitor centre and the car. We took our time along the way, stopping to watch the dragonflies and butterflies that were busy around the reserve.

Of note were two clouded yellows that flew through while we were at VP1, followed later by a rather special helice form of the clouded yellow, which was settled and feeding on knapweed. Clouded yellows, including the helice form, frequently nectar on knapweed, and by late summer it becomes one of their most important nectar sources, alongside scabious and thistles.

We reached the café and stopped for some drinks and ice creams, by now enjoying a very pleasant temperature. As we stood nearby, I spotted a hummingbird hawkmoth flying through and followed it to a buddleia, where it joined a variety of bees and butterflies feeding on the flowers.

We watched as it worked its way around the bush, often disappearing behind the foliage but occasionally hovering in full view as it moved from flower to flower. After a slow start to the year, I'm now regularly encountering hummingbird hawkmoths while out birding, and I'm even starting to see them in the garden, which has been a welcome change.

We chatted with some of the reserve volunteers before packing up and setting off for home, negotiating the road closures along the way.

On Monday morning, I headed to Charlbury for our regular pickleball session, and on the journey home I noticed that a pectoral sandpiper had been reported at Daventry Country Park. As you may have read in previous posts, I'd already missed several of these birds during two visits to RSPB Freiston Shore, so the opportunity to see one much closer to home was too good to pass up. I called Kev to see if he fancied joining me, and with a yes from him, I swung by his house on the way and we headed to the reservoir, where we paid for parking.

Reports suggested that the bird could be viewed from the dam, but when we arrived, we could see several green sandpipers, a ringed plover and what appeared to be two dunlin. At this distance, however, we couldn't be certain, as one of the dunlins looked subtly different from the other. We'd need to get closer. We don't often visit the site and weren't sure whether there was another viewing point around the perimeter that would give us a better look. We worked our way around the reservoir, and talking to some tree workers they confirmed there was a viewing platform, with a handful of birders already having headed in that direction. We met a couple coming back the other way, who confirmed that the pectoral sandpiper was still present - and, sure enough, it was one of the two birds we'd been suspicious of.

We joined another birder on the platform, who quickly directed us to where the pectoral sandpiper was now feeding. Within moments we were both onto it, scopes trained on the bird as we tried to capture a few record shots with our cameras and phones.

The exposed shoreline looked to be in excellent condition for attracting and holding waders, although the views were always going to be distant, with the water level having dropped considerably and the water's edge now well away from where we were standing. We watched the pectoral sandpiper for a while and were joined first by Stuart Munday and then Mike Alibone @bonxie. Mike commented on how difficult it was to get sharp images in the heat haze, which was causing considerable distortion at that distance. It was nice to catch up and have a chat with them both.

Having decided to go for the pectoral sandpiper, I had then noticed a report of a spotted crake at Upton Warren. Frustratingly, updates continued throughout the evening, with the bird showing exceptionally well and producing some superb photos on X, including those posted by Alan Boddington. That evening, Kev and I agreed we'd meet early the following morning and give it a go, hoping that the bird would stay overnight and, with any luck, continue to show well.

We skipped breakfast so we could get there as quickly as possible and, after parking up, made our way around to the Lapwing hide, where the spotted crake had been reported the previous day. It was still too early for any fresh news on the sightings boards, so we had no idea whether the bird had been seen that morning. On the way, we met two birders heading back who had been on site since 4.30am. They gave us the disappointing news that there had been no sign of the bird so far, and they were now heading home so they could get to work.

We entered the hide to find around half a dozen birders already waiting patiently. We joined them and settled in, scanning the exposed mud while watching green sandpipers and common sandpipers moving around the margins, with several more green sandpipers nearby.

Water rails began appearing from the reeds, and each emergence brought a brief injection of hope that the spotted crake might finally put in an appearance. Some quickly retreated back into cover, while others fed along the reed margin before disappearing. A couple of other individuals also showed on the far side of the pool, but none of them turned out to be the bird we were waiting for.

A familiar face then entered the hide - Harry, who runs the YouTube channel @Wingingitwithharry - and he joined us in the vigil. As the minutes ticked by, the chances of a no-show were beginning to increase. Then a fox appeared at the front right, on the opposite side of the exposed mud, and its arrival brought back memories of my first attempt to see a spotted crake at Brandon Marsh in Warwickshire in late July 2015. On that occasion, a fox had passed through just as I arrived and the bird was never seen again. Hopefully history wouldn't repeat itself here.

There was plenty of friendly conversation in the hide, with birders coming and going as the vigil continued, but there was still no sign of our target bird. Eventually, we had to admit defeat and leave. Home James and don't spare the horses.

As it turned out, we'd got our priorities the wrong way round. The spotted crake proved to be a single-day visitor, while the pectoral sandpiper remained for several more days. With hindsight, I should have gone for the spotted crake first and left the pectoral sandpiper until later. Ho hum - that's birding for you!

Year list: 282.

Cornwall - Scillies crossing & pelagic :: 06&08 August 2026

It was time to add some pelagic species to my year list, and this year I decided to combine it with a few days' holiday with my wife, Kev @kev07713 and his wife, Karen. We travelled down to Cornwall and, on arrival, stopped at Hayle Estuary to work through the gulls for anything of interest. In particular, I was hoping for a yellow-legged gull, which had eluded me so far this year, but we came up empty-handed. We did, however, have superb views of two peregrine falcons from our position at the end of the causeway, an adult and a juvenile.

After a lovely dinner together, we retired to our rooms, agreeing to meet the following morning for some sea watching. We decided on Porthgwarra as our base, despite the winds having turned westerly and Pendeen looking the better option. Our plan was to spend the morning sea watching before heading to Sennen Cove for lunch and a look around.

We set up overlooking the bay and began following the shearwaters, gulls and guillemots as they worked their way through, hoping to pick out something more than the prolific Manx shearwaters. It was enjoyable watching, but most of the birds remained at considerable distance offshore, making photography largely out of the question.

The first addition to our year lists was a sooty shearwater, picked out by Kev at significant range but unmistakable among the other species. Later, we added a Cory's shearwater, before being joined by a couple of birders who found another sooty shearwater and while we added a couple of European storm petrels to the list.

They told us they had already been to Pendeen but had been unable to join the sea watch there because of the number of cars and the resulting queues, so they had returned to Porthgwarra. Apparently, the parking spaces had been exhausted by 6.15am, giving us some idea of just how busy it had been.

As we continued watching, we noticed some people snorkelling in the bay. Comically, one of them was being followed by a seal. Each time the swimmer surfaced and turned to look behind them, the seal had disappeared beneath the water. When we spoke to them afterwards, they admitted that they had been completely unaware of its presence, making for an amusing end to an enjoyable morning's sea watching.

We dropped into Sennen Cove and were lucky enough to find a parking space near the harbour. As we paid for parking at the machine, two choughs flew overhead, calling as they headed along the coast before landing some distance away. Using my camera, I picked out that there were five birds, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time we saw or heard them during our time there.

We stopped at a café for our first Cornish pasties of the holiday before heading along the sea front and to the steps towards the beach, where we all indulged in ice creams.

Sennen Cove sits around a broad, sweeping sandy beach backed by rugged cliffs, with a small harbour and rocky shoreline adding to its character. Exposed to the full force of the Atlantic, it has a wild and open feel and is popular with surfers, walkers and sea watchers. The surrounding cliffs and rocky headlands also provide excellent vantage points for watching seabirds passing offshore, while on a clear day there are expansive views out across the Atlantic. Although we weren't out birdwatching, we couldn't resist scanning through the gulls and checking the rocks, but we didn't find anything new for the year.

We finished our day with another dinner together and arranged to meet in time to go to Penzance where we would take the Scillonian II ferry to the Isles of Scilly. The Scillonian III is the passenger ferry operated by Isles of Scilly Travel, linking Penzance in Cornwall with St Mary's, the largest of the Isles of Scilly. The crossing takes roughly 2 hours 45 minutes, depending on sea conditions, and provides a scenic journey across the Atlantic.

For birders, the crossing can be particularly worthwhile. The open water offers opportunities to watch gannets, gulls, shearwaters, fulmars, skuas and other seabirds, with the possibility of something more unusual during favourable weather and wind conditions. The exposed deck gives good views across the sea, although conditions can be challenging when the Atlantic is rough. The journey itself can become part of the birding experience, particularly when travelling during periods of strong winds or active seabird movement.

We took our places aboard the ferry and settled in for the crossing to the Isles of Scilly. Even before leaving the harbour, there were birds to keep us occupied, with rock pipits moving along the sea wall and ringed plovers feeding on the rocks. It was a good start to what we hoped would be a productive few hours of sea watching.

Kev and Karen have made the crossing several times before, so Karen had kindly arranged our tickets, and Kev was able to pass on his experience of the journey. He suggested the best places for us to sit and, more importantly, where to stand when we wanted to scan the open water for passing seabirds. With the prospect of shearwaters, skuas, petrels and other pelagic species, choosing the right position on the ferry could make all the difference.

As we prepared to leave Penzance, we had our cameras and binoculars ready, knowing that once we were out into open water the birding could become considerably more interesting. The plan was to spend as much of the crossing as possible watching the sea, checking every distant bird and hoping that something special would make its way past the ferry.

Behind us on the mainland we could see the helicopter helipad where transit can be made to the island. The helicopter service operates from Penzance Heliport, offering a fast and scenic transfer across to St Mary’s in the Isles of Scilly. The short flight takes you out over Mount’s Bay and across the Atlantic, with the islands appearing below as you approach St Mary’s. Unlike the ferry, the journey is over almost before you have time to settle in, but the aerial views provide a completely different perspective of the Cornish coastline and the islands. It was not for us as we wanted the pelagic bird experience which this mode of transport negates.

Out on the open water, we soon began to encounter Manx shearwaters, which would prove to be the most numerous of the seabird species we saw during the trip. As we moved further from the coast, increasing numbers could be seen not only flying past the boat but also rafting on the surface.

Among them were a few common guillemots, adding some variety to the steadily growing list of seabirds. The distance and movement of the birds and boat meant that we weren't going to be getting frame-filling photographs from here, but that wasn't really the objective. Instead, we were aiming for views and record shots - enough to capture the moment, confirm our sightings and provide something to look back on when jogging our memories of the trip.

As we got further from land, we noticed increasing numbers of fulmars cutting across the water, adding to the growing variety of seabirds around the boat.

We also recognised one of the other birders on board as someone we'd encountered before. After a brief conversation, we realised we'd met previously while visiting the south coast for a desert wheatear. It turned out to be Marcus Warden, @sniffer2012.bsky.social a Bucks birder, and it was a nice coincidence to meet again on the crossing. As it turned out, we would see him again on the return journey.

Then bang, there was a lifer for me, two great shearwaters on the water. I struggled to pick them up through the camera until we were passed and they took to the air. A species I'd been unable to see on my previous trip to Cornwall to see pelagic species.

Great shearwaters are one of the species that make Cornish sea watching particularly exciting. Although they are far less numerous than Manx shearwaters, late summer and autumn can produce some impressive movements, with birds passing close to the coast or gathering offshore when conditions are right. Great shearwaters are considerably larger than Manx shearwaters and can be picked out by their distinctive flight and bulk.

They have dark brown-grey upperparts, contrasting with a paler underside, a dark cap and a prominent white collar around the throat. The underwings are largely white but show dark markings along the leading edge and at the wing tips. The bill is large and pale, often with a dark tip.

It typically flies with deep, deliberate wingbeats followed by long, effortless glides, often travelling low over the waves and using the wind and contours of the sea to its advantage. Rather than constantly flapping, it can cover considerable distances with surprisingly little effort, banking and wheeling as it follows the swell.

Not long after Kev called a bonxie, better known as a great skua. It was distant but through my binoculars I could see it was chasing a shearwater - I raised my camera and started to shoot off a series of record shots. The shearwater appeared large ... another great shearwater? On reviewing the photos, I could see it was a Cory's. The skua drove the Cory's into the water and shortly after the birds separated and the bonxie made a sharp right and passed the front of the boat.

A bonxie's behaviour is dominated by opportunism. They frequently harass other seabirds, such as gulls, gannets, kittiwakes and auks, pursuing them in flight until they drop or regurgitate their catch, which the skua then seizes in mid-air or from the water. T

They are also accomplished predators in their own right, taking fish directly from the sea and preying on smaller seabirds, chicks and even adult birds when the opportunity arises. Around fishing vessels, they readily take discarded fish.

In flight, great skuas appear powerful and purposeful, with strong, steady wingbeats interspersed with short glides. Unlike the more agile Arctic or pomarine skuas, they rely more on strength than speed, often flying low over the sea with a direct, determined manner.

Next up on the tablet were more Cory's shearwaters, a species I hadn't managed to photograph on my previous trip off the Cornish coast. Once again, the distance from the boat and its constant movement made anything more than record shots difficult, but I was pleased with the results and happy to have a few photographs to document the encounters.

Although they need to be picked out among the more numerous Manx shearwaters, their larger size, broad wings and distinctive, leisurely flight soon become apparent once you've had a good look at one. Seeing them from the coast is rewarding enough, but encountering them out in the open Atlantic, where they can be watched cruising effortlessly across the swell, is an altogether different experience.

Cory's have grey-brown upperparts, contrasting sharply with clean white underparts, while the head is generally paler with a darker cap and eye area. The large, stout bill is pale yellowish with a darker tip, giving the bird a distinctive expression at close range.

It is considerably larger and broader winged than a Manx shearwater, with a more substantial body and a slower, more measured flight style. In good light, the contrast between the darker upperparts and white underside is particularly noticeable as the bird banks or turns.

We arrived on St Mary’s and disembarked, taking a stroll along the seafront before finding a spot in a nearby park for some lunch. From there, we had a lovely view back across the harbour and the bay beyond, watching the constant activity as boats came and went. Kev got into conversation with an elderly woman on the next picnic bench.

The harbour was already busy, with passengers arriving and departing as they waited for their onward journeys to the other islands. The inter-island boats are an integral part of life on Scilly, providing regular connections between St Mary’s and the other islands. With crossings generally taking just 15 to 25 minutes, they make island-hopping an easy and enjoyable way to explore the archipelago, while also providing plenty of opportunities to take in the scenery along the way.

We eventually returned to the boat having had 4-hours on the island and started our return journey, meeting Marcus again. There were fewer opportunities for photos on the return but with increasing numbers of European storm petrels, with one at least appearing to be a Wilson's - without a confirmed ID it was still not on my list.

When we were back on land we had a lovely meal at a fish restaurant in Penzance and, while checking the local reports, discovered that a melodious warbler had been seen regularly throughout the day at Porthgwarra, in the apparently well-known "60-foot field". We hatched a plan for an early start, with Kev, Karen and me setting off to begin the search.

The “60-foot field” at Porthgwarra is a familiar stopping point for birders visiting this stretch of the Cornish coast. Sitting close to the sea watching area, it provides a useful patch of cover and open ground that can attract migrant birds, particularly during periods of easterly winds and migration. The surrounding hedges, fields and coastal scrub create a good mix of habitats, while the elevated position and proximity to the cliffs make it a natural place to pause and check through anything moving along the coast.

We met a couple of birders in the car park who pointed us in the right direction, as there was no telephone signal for us to check BirdGuides. Unfortunately, the news wasn't good. They had already been searching for around an hour and a half without a sighting, although other birders were still in the area, with a couple of them passing us as we made our way in.

To our surprise, the last remaining birder was Marcus, who had travelled over from his accommodation in Pendeen to try his luck. He had already been searching for an hour without success and, eventually, he too decided to call it a day and go back to meet his family for breakfast.

We continued our search, finding chiffchaffs, willow warblers, sedge warblers, whitethroats and a selection of other common species, but there was no sign of our target bird. Green and greater spotted woodpeckers called and flew around the area, providing some welcome distractions. Kev even tried viewing from a higher vantage point in the hope of getting a better angle into the vegetation, but the melodious warbler remained elusive.

A birder then returned to the area, followed shortly afterwards by another. The second arrival turned out to be the original finder of the warbler, who explained that the bird had spent much of the previous day showing well in a single bush. Unfortunately, that bush was now empty, apart from a few chiffchaffs, goldfinches and wrens.

Eventually, we had to admit defeat and abandon the search, returning to meet Charlotte and continue with the rest of the day, visiting Porthleven for lunch and dinner.

Saturday arrived and with it the highlight we'd been looking forward to - a six-hour pelagic trip with Mermaid Cruises. Coastal seabirds are familiar sights, with gulls, terns and cormorants regularly seen from beaches, cliffs and harbours. Pelagic seabirds, however, belong to a very different world.

They spend much of their lives far from land, in an environment that most of us rarely get the opportunity to experience. Out beyond the coastline, the open ocean is their home, and encountering these birds in their natural environment gives them an added sense of mystery. Species that can seem almost mythical when viewed only as distant specks from the coast suddenly become real, close enough to appreciate their size, shape and behaviour.

For us, the chance to spend six hours out on the open water was an opportunity to enter that world, searching the waves for the seabirds that spend their lives beyond the horizon.

We spent the morning playing crazy golf and enjoying coffee and cake before making our way to Penzance. Despite the harbour car park being absolutely rammed, we somehow both managed to quickly find spaces, leaving us free to make our way towards the departure point. As we walked through the car park, I spotted a clouded yellow butterfly heading out towards the sea - an unexpected little bit of wildlife before we'd even boarded the boat.

We stopped for a drink at the café beside the jetty where the boat would depart, taking the opportunity to relax before the six-hour trip ahead. As the boat eventually drew into the harbour, we joined the growing queue to board and met Trevor Ellery, @ElleryTrev16932, who was right at the front. With everyone eager to get aboard, the anticipation was building for what promised to be an exciting day out on the open water.

As the rest of the birders boarded, one climbed the steps towards where Kev, Karen, Trevor and I were sitting and greeted me with, "Hello Kyle." It was Hasan Al-Farhan, @HasanAlFarhan2, a Bucks birder based in Milton Keynes whom I'd bumped into a few times before and had also chatted with online. It was another nice coincidence and made the group feel even more familiar.

Once everyone was aboard, we settled in for the safety briefing and an introduction from our guide, Martin Elliot, before getting ready for the six-hour pelagic ahead.

Then came a slightly painful update. One of the birders we'd met while searching for the melodious warbler came over to tell us that his son had found the bird on the morning we were there, viewing it from the roadside further down the valley. We were genuinely pleased for them - congratulations to the finder and for the photographs - but there was no getting away from the other feeling: damn!

We set off from Penzance, and it wasn't long before Manx shearwaters began appearing around the boat once again. They provided the perfect introduction to our day on the water as we headed west, passing Land's End and leaving the Cornish coastline behind. We were given a warning that the seats at the back of the boat weren't actually bolted down to the deck. We were advised to be careful when leaning against them or using them for balance, as they could move unexpectedly and send us off balance - hopefully with us still ending up inside the boat!

As we passed some rafts of Manx shearwaters we also saw common dolphins, a sun fish (fin poking above the water), as gannets started plunge-diving in a feeding frenzy, one of a few we'd encounter today.

Common dolphins are highly social and are often encountered in groups ranging from a handful of animals to much larger pods. They are fast-moving and energetic dolphins, frequently travelling alongside boats and riding the bow wave. Their behaviour can be spectacular, porpoising and racing alongside the vessel, sometimes remaining with a boat for several minutes.

Their distinctive colouring makes them relatively easy to identify. They have a dark grey back, creamy or yellowish flanks and a pale underside, with a characteristic hourglass-like pattern along the sides. They are relatively small and slender compared with bottlenose dolphins, with a noticeably elongated, pointed beak. They grow up to 2.7 meters in length and weigh in up to 150 kg.

We reached our target area, as dictated by the captain rather than Martin Elliot. Martin began chumming the water, creating a slick behind the boat in the hope of drawing some of the more elusive pelagic species within range. The idea is simple: the scent and food particles spread across the surface and mimic the conditions created by a natural feeding event, potentially attracting birds that might otherwise pass well away from the boat.

For us, it meant the scanning became even more intense. Rather than simply watching birds passing in the distance, we were now looking for anything approaching the slick, with the possibility that a shearwater, skua or petrel might suddenly appear from the blue and give us the views we'd been hoping for. Gulls started to appear followed by a lovely fulmar.

A call went up as a bonxie (great skua) appeared off the starboard side at three o'clock, the clockface system we'd been instructed to use so everyone could quickly locate birds. It gave us a close fly-by before turning and heading back in the opposite direction, although this time at greater distance. It was an excellent start to our pelagic and would prove to be the first of four great skuas recorded from the boat that day.

It wasn't long before Martin called out that a sooty shearwater was approaching from behind the boat. As it drew closer, it turned away and headed back across the water, but not before giving everyone excellent views. Its dark, powerful appearance immediately set it apart from the more numerous Manx shearwaters, with long wings, deep wingbeats and sweeping glides as it powered low over the waves.

The sooty shearwater had been another highly anticipated species, particularly given its reputation as a scarce but regular visitor to the Cornish coast. Seeing one so well from the boat was a particularly welcome addition to the day.

We were treated to far more than just birds and dolphins, with two minke whales and a porbeagle shark also recorded. Unfortunately, I only managed to briefly see one of the whales, while the skipper called the shark but, despite everyone's efforts, none of us seemed able to work out exactly where it was in relation to the boat. Another reminder that, on a pelagic, wildlife can appear and disappear in seconds!

We moved positions a couple of times, trying to find the best area to attract the birds. Before long, we were treated to relatively close fly-bys from a couple of great shearwaters. The first was called at eleven o'clock and approached before passing down the port side, giving everyone some excellent views as it powered across the water.

These were considerably better views than I'd managed from the Scillonian ferry just a couple of days earlier, when the birds had remained much more distant and photography had been difficult. This time I had the opportunity to get some much better photographs, which was particularly satisfying as the great shearwater had been a lifer for me only a couple of days before. To go from distant record shots on the ferry to having decent images that I could share was a real bonus.

We continued to see storm petrels, most of them European storm petrels, but at least one looked likely to be a Wilson's. I spotted one approaching the boat from behind and called it at seven o'clock, although at that stage I couldn't tell which of the two species we were looking at.

As it came closer, the identification became clearer. The trailing legs and distinctive wing markings were visible as it skimmed low over the water, confirming it as a Wilson's storm petrel. Another lifer for me - and a particularly satisfying one to pick out for myself as it approached the boat.

The Wilson's storm petrel was another of the big targets for the day. A scarce but increasingly regular visitor to Cornish waters, it is a bird that spends almost all of its life far out over the Atlantic, making an encounter from a pelagic boat particularly special. Small and dark, with a contrasting pale rump and long wings, it flies low over the waves, skimming and banking across the surface with remarkable agility. Its habit of pattering its feet across the water as it feeds makes it especially distinctive, and the prospect of one appearing around the slick had everyone watching the waves intently. Unfortunately, they all flew through without settling around the boat, so I didn't get the opportunity to witness this behaviour for myself or see some of the other distinguishing features, such as the pale or yellowish webbing on the feet.

Although we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves, we had to keep one eye on the time. We still had to make it back to Penzance, and there was always the possibility that we'd encounter something else worth stopping for along the way.

Sure enough, we came across more rafts of seabirds, predominantly Manx shearwaters, when Kev picked out a sooty shearwater among them. We slowed the boat to a stop, allowing us to watch the bird as it cruised calmly on the surface among the Manixes. Eventually, it took to the air and disappeared as the surrounding Manx shearwaters were also disturbed and took to the wing, leaving us with another excellent view of this impressive species before continuing our journey back.

One of the birders we'd been chatting to mentioned that he had particularly been hoping to see a cory's shearwater, which made us realise that, despite all the seabirds we'd encountered, we hadn't seen one during the trip.

As we made our way back on the return journey, a call went up at three o'clock and a Cory's shearwater appeared in the distance. It was far from close, but it was still a great bird to encounter and a welcome addition to the day's list. I later congratulated the birder we'd been talking to, only for him to tell me that he'd been on the opposite side of the boat and had completely missed it. No! One of a number of frustrations of the new boat compared with the previous one - with birds able to appear on either side, being in the wrong position can mean missing out altogether.

We had started powering back towards Penzance when a feeding frenzy was spotted ahead. The skipper altered course to bring us closer, and suddenly the water was alive with activity - gannets were plunge-diving into the melee, while shearwaters, bonxies, gulls and other seabirds piled in to take advantage of the abundance of food, joining a pod of dolphins.

It was an amazing spectacle, with birds diving, chasing and wheeling around us as we slowly circled the area for another 20 minutes. Just when we thought the day was winding down, this unexpected feeding frenzy provided a spectacular finale to the pelagic.

One of the photographs taken by the Mermaid Cruises team and posted on their Facebook page, probably by Martin, captures the scene particularly well, showing both the dolphin and gannet action and giving a sense of just how hectic the feeding frenzy was.

Our pelagic trip certainly did not disappoint, delivering an impressive haul of wildlife. The final tally included 5 Wilson's storm petrels, 4 European storm petrels, 1,000+ Manx shearwaters, 6 sooty shearwaters, 1 Cory's shearwater and 25+ great shearwaters, along with 4 bonxies and 5+ juvenile yellow-legged gulls.

The seabirds were only part of the spectacle, with an ocean sunfish, 8+ harbour porpoises, 100+ common dolphins and 2 minke whales also recorded. An incredible selection of wildlife and a fitting reward for six hours spent out on the open Atlantic.

Year list: 279.