Wednesday, 19 August 2026

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.

Scillonian III

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.

Rock pipit

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.

Helicopter
Helicopter

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.

Common guillemot
Manx shearwater

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.

Great shearwater

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.

Great skua
Great skua
Great skua
Great skua

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.

Cory's shearwater
Cory's shearwater

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.

European storm petrel

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.

Mermaid pelagic boat

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!

Manx shearwater
Manx shearwater

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.

Common dolphin
Common dolphin
Common dolphin
Common dolphin

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.

Fulmar
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.

Great skua
Great skua

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.

Sooty shearwater
Sooty shearwater
Sooty shearwater

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.

Great shearwater
Great shearwater
Great shearwater
Great shearwater
Great shearwater
Great shearwater
Great shearwater

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.

Wilson's storm petrel

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.

Sooty shearwater
Sooty shearwater
Sooty shearwater
Sooty shearwater
Sooty shearwater

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.

Cory's shearwater

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.

Frenzy photo by Mermaid Pleasure Cruises from their Facebook page

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.

Tuesday, 11 August 2026

RSPB Snettisham :: 01 August 2026

Having been unable to travel up to Yorkshire with Kev @kev07713 and Karen, and consequently missing both buff-breasted and white-rumped sandpipers, it was rather fortuitous that a white-rumped sandpiper appeared at RSPB Snettisham in time for our regular Saturday birding trip.

We set off at 4.30am, hoping to arrive ahead of the high tide and catch the bird as it was pushed closer towards the shore. After arriving, we began the reasonably long walk from the RSPB car park down to the shore. Within minutes, we heard the unmistakable call of a turtle dove.

We quickly located it, only for two birds to fly over before one settled in a tree some distance away. We stopped to enjoy the views, and as I moved on, Kev dropped back to the car to collect his glasses, just in case he needed to phonescope anything, as focusing was so much easier with them.

Turtle dove

I reached the shore and started working through the dunlin and ringed plovers along the water’s edge, hoping to pick out the white-rumped sandpiper amongst them. As I made my way along, Kev caught me up and we continued together, pausing to watch the red knot swirling in the distance.

There were an impressive 56,000 red knot recorded here during the Wetland Bird Survey (WeBS) count at the beginning of the month, and the sheer number of birds was evident as they wheeled above the Wash. Their flight patterns and constantly changing formations were remarkably reminiscent of starling murmurations.

As the tide pushed further across the mudflats, flock after flock of red knot lifted from the water’s edge, thousands of birds twisting and turning in unison above the Wash. The flock moved almost like a single living organism, constantly changing shape as the birds responded to one another, alternately flashing dark and silver as they banked and caught the light.

The sheer scale of the spectacle was difficult to take in. Wave after wave of red knot rose from the shore, filling the sky before settling back down onto the pool behind, only to erupt into flight moments later. It was an incredible display, made all the more impressive by the vast numbers involved.

No sign of the white-rumped sandpiper though.

Red knot
Red knot

We continued working our way along the shore, picking out two peregrines, six kestrels, and a buzzard quartering the land beyond the mudflats. Along the remaining shoreline was an impressive array of curlews, godwits, shelduck, redshank, dunlin, red knot, Mediterranean gulls, and more, all feeding along the water’s edge.

Out in front of us, streams of little terns and a handful of common terns headed out across the Wash, setting off on fishing trips as the tide continued to push in. The latest verified local eBird log for RSPB Snettisham recorded a specific group of 117 little terns on the reserve - reports suggest this area of the coastline supports an average of 314 breeding pairs.

Little tern

According to the latest (unverified WEBS) count there were 56,000 red knot, 3,943 dunlin, 4,500 oystercatcher, 2,050 black-tailed godwit, 1,435 bar-tailed godwit, 1,560 shelduck, 1,270 curlew, 1,270 grey plover, 1,124 redshank, 662 sanderling, 424 ringed plover, 226 turnstone, and 40 Mediterranean gulls amongst the other species.

There are so many waders here at the moment because yit is the start of the autumn migration period, when The Wash becomes an extremely important feeding and staging area for birds returning from their Arctic breeding grounds.

A few things are happening simultaneously:

  • Red knot are arriving back from the Arctic. They make the enormous journey south from breeding areas in places such as Greenland, Canada and Russia. The Wash's extensive mudflats provide an exceptionally rich food supply for them to refuel.
  • Dunlin numbers are building too. Late summer onwards is an important period for Dunlin on UK estuaries and mudflats, with birds arriving from further north to spend the winter here.
  • The Wash is an exceptionally productive feeding area. The huge expanses of exposed mud provide worms, molluscs and other invertebrates, allowing enormous numbers of waders to feed together. The RSPB describes the area as having "world class mud" - essentially, the food supply is what drives the congregation of birds.
  • The tide concentrates them. At low tide the birds can spread across vast areas of mudflat to feed. As the tide rises, that feeding habitat disappears, forcing them towards the shore and Snettisham's roosts. The birds spread across The Wash to feed, then become concentrated at Snettisham as the tide comes in.

Looking back along the shore, we could see a group of birders gathered at the point where the path from the car park joins the coastal path. In front of them was a sizeable gathering of waders, although at that distance we couldn’t make out exactly what they were.

At this point, we checked BirdGuides and saw that a report had just been posted for the white-rumped sandpiper further back along the track, with the sighting subsequently confirmed by another birder who had seen it. Had we somehow missed it, or had the bird already moved from there, perhaps onto the pools or with the distant waders?

We headed back towards the group, only to find that they were already moving off. What they had been watching was predominantly sanderling, with a few dunlin, redshank, ringed plovers, and a couple of turnstones mixed in. The white-rumped sandpiper was still nowhere to be seen - we'd arrived 15 minutes too late for the close views described by others.

Ringed plover
Sanderling
Sanderling
Sanderling
Sanderling
Sanderling
Sanderling

After a short while, we walked back up the path to where a growing group of birders had gathered, all scanning the mudflats as the tide began to drop once more. We worked our way through the flocks, commenting that each time we made a sweep, the birds seemed to have relocated further along to the latest stretch of exposed sand.

Some of the birders began making their way back along the shore, and we followed, step by step. Every so often they would stop and scan again, only to move on once more, with us gradually catching them up.

Then, at one point, a couple of birders came hurrying back towards us. They had seen the white-rumped sandpiper, but it had flown and landed beside a channel, where it had quickly disappeared from view. We had missed it again! We scanned and scanned but could find no sign of it. Apparently, the white-rumped sandpiper had left with a group of dunlins, and a small flock was later seen flying off to the right, which probably included our elusive bird.

We moved further to the right and began scanning the area, working through the dunlin and redshanks as more birds gradually filtered through from that direction. While I continued searching from this spot, Kev carried on along the path following a couple of the remaining birders.

About ten minutes later, my phone rang. One of the birders had located the sandpiper, and I immediately set off at a brisk pace along the path and a few minutes later, I caught up with them and, at last, was within reach of our target bird.

It took barely a minute to pick it out among the birds on the mudflats, but then there it was - first in my scope, then in my bins, and finally in front of my camera lens.

The white-rumped sandpiper is a rare but regular vagrant to Britain. It breeds across Arctic Canada and winters mainly in Patagonia, but its transatlantic migration route brings small numbers to Britain and Ireland, particularly during late summer and autumn. To make things even more challenging, it is roughly dunlin-sized and can be surprisingly difficult to pick out amongst hundreds or even thousands of its smaller counterparts. The combination of long wings, a relatively long bill, prominent white supercilium, and streaking extending onto the flanks can be particularly useful when separating it from dunlin.

With the Wash attracting enormous numbers of passage waders at this time of year, perhaps it is not so surprising that the occasional Nearctic vagrant finds its way into these vast gatherings of otherwise familiar species. For a bird arriving from the other side of the Atlantic, the rich feeding grounds of the Wash must provide an ideal place to stop, refuel, and continue its journey.

White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper
White-rumped sandpiper

Walking to the next group of birders we heard that there were two little stints and it wasn't long before we located one, feeding amongst the seaweed and dunlins. The little stint is Britain's smallest regularly occurring wader, at only about two-thirds the size of a dunlin. It is seen mainly on spring and, especially, autumn passage. British birds breed in northern Scandinavia and north-west Russia and winter around southern Europe and western Africa.

The important distinction is that little stint isn't normally expected in the huge tidal flocks of dunlin at Snettisham in quite the same way. You're more likely to find one feeding around the edges of pools or amongst smaller wader gatherings. This makes finding one a matter of carefully checking the less obvious birds rather than simply scanning the main knot/dunlin spectacle.

Little stint
Little stint

On the way to the shore from the car park I'd seen a wall butterfly - a species that Kev had not knowingly encountered previously and so on the way back to the car we stopped regularly and searched. We were eventually rewarded by a couple of views, one relatively close. We struggled to get open wing photographs and the only individual that compiled was a bit worse for wear.

The wall is a beautifully marked butterfly, its orange-and-brown wings patterned with dark lines and prominent eyespots. The most striking feature is the large black eyespot with a white centre near the tip of each forewing, complemented by a series of smaller eyespots along the hindwings. When settled with its wings closed, however, it becomes much more cryptic, the mottled grey-brown underside blending remarkably well with dry grass, bare earth and stones.

The wall is a butterfly of short, open, sunny grassland, particularly where there are patches of bare ground. Typical habitats include coastal cliffs and dunes, quarries, railway embankments, grassy tracks and field margins. The caterpillars feed on various grasses. It is particularly associated with warm, sheltered places, and adults often bask on walls, rocks, bare ground and other sunny surfaces. Males can be quite conspicuous when they patrol low over the ground looking for females.

The wall has experienced a very substantial long-term decline. UKBMS data show an 82.8% decline since monitoring began in 1976. Interestingly, the national index has been more stable over the last 20 years and has increased over the last decade, although this doesn't undo the much larger historical loss.

Wall brown butterfly
Wall brown butterfly
Wall brown butterfly

With a three-hour journey home ahead of us, it was time to make tracks, but not before stopping at the café just outside the reserve for a well-earned spot of lunch.

Year list: 272.