The weekend weather forecast looked rather bleak, so when Kev @kev07713 and I began discussing Saturday plans, we naturally considered birding locations that offered some shelter, ideally somewhere with a hide. We weighed a few options and eventually settled on Slimbridge. There were reports of little stints, white-fronted geese, spotted redshanks, and returning Bewick’s swans, but nothing we hadn’t already seen this year. I’d visited recently, but it would at least get us out birding, and Slimbridge is always a worthwhile destination.
However, by the time Kev picked me up the next morning, he’d had a change of thought. After a brief chat, our plans shifted completely - we were off to Holbury, Southampton, to see the boat-tailed grackle. Kev had been before, but I hadn’t yet had the chance.
This bird is believed to be the first-ever boat-tailed grackle recorded in Britain, having been initially reported on 2 November 2025 at Calshot Spit, close to the RNLI lifeboat station and Calshot Castle. It was first thought to be a great-tailed grackle, but closer examination of photographs led to its re-identification.
Given Calshot’s proximity to the Port of Southampton, it is suspected that it arrived by ship and was therefore “ship-assisted”. As a result, it is expected to be categorised as Category E by British records committees, a classification applied to species that are not considered to have self-sustaining wild populations in Britain, and typically escapees or human-assisted arrivals.
A large and striking member of the blackbird family, the species is renowned for its long, keel-shaped tail, loud vocalisations, and confident, often bold—behaviour around people. Individuals of the Atlantic subspecies typically show pale yellow or whitish eyes, consistent with the bird seen at Calshot.
The boat-tailed grackle, specifically of the Atlantic subspecies, is largely non-migratory. In its native range, it inhabits coastal saltmarshes and urban areas along the eastern United States, from Virginia south through Florida and along the Gulf Coast. Highly adaptable, it frequently scavenges in urban environments and is known to explore human structures, roadsides, and even engage closely with birders.
Observers noted how incredibly confiding this individual was; it approached photographers, mingled among people, and even accepted food. It was seen foraging around the lifeboat station and beneath small vessels. On 6 November it reportedly flew off and was initially lost, though later sighted again in a garden at Holbury, not far from Calshot.
As we neared Holbury, we were reminded of reports of a white starling at Calshot. The bird, with its dark eyes, pale legs, and mostly white plumage, is leucistic rather than albino. Observers noted that it has been present for “a few years” and, remarkably, has successfully bred despite its conspicuous colouring. It has been described as “quite striking,” particularly when flying among normally coloured starlings, making it easy to pick out in a flock. We decided to continue down to Calshot to see if it was still with the starling flock, though, as far as I could tell, the last reported sighting was on 16 November.
We stopped to watch a flock of starlings beyond the beach huts, observing them feeding along the grass and along the water’s edge. There were plenty of turnstones, some dunlins, redshanks, ringed plovers, oystercatchers, and brent geese, but no sign of the leucistic starling. We located another small flock among a compound of sailing boats, yet still it was absent.
Working our way around the area in a light drizzle, we then turned our attention to the sea, where more turnstones and a couple of sanderlings were feeding in the frothy surf. Kev moved back to scan along the water in the opposite direction while I followed the sanderlings along the shore, hoping for a photo of these tiny birds; I love the way they scamper so energetically. They flew ahead, and I thought they had gone out of reach, but when I turned back along the shore, I saw they had relocated just behind me.
We knew that free parking along this stretch was limited, so after making sure we hadn’t overstayed our welcome, we decided to move on, keeping in mind that we might return if the chance arose - our next stop would be the area where the grackle had been regularly reported. Birders reported that it would perch on fences and roofs but also wander through the lawns and gardens of the estate houses, foraging on lawns for worms and scattered seeds. The bird seemed to have become fairly settled in its surroundings - locals had been feeding it and have often welcomed visiting birders into their gardens to watch and photograph it.
We pulled up to see two cars already parked, both with birders on site. Kev spotted Nick Bristow @nickbris56.bsky.social and joined him and the others as they worked their way along the gardens. Meanwhile, another car arrived, and I teamed up with the new birder to scan down the street in the opposite direction and across the fields behind the church.
After a thorough search, the group regrouped and swapped areas. Eventually, the birder I was with decided to move on, planning perhaps to return later. At that moment, a call went up down the street - they’d located the grackle. A short walk later, we found the bird, feeding along a driveway and around the side and underside of a car. As reported, it paid no attention to our presence.
We watched as it strolled across the lawn to the shrubs on the other side of the garden, but still relatively close, feeding on what looked like seeds scattered by the homeowner. It would feed for a couple of minutes before walking into the shrubs and disappearing from view. The seeds had also attracted some other visitors - at least three rats that scurried in and out of view.
We stopped to chat with Nick and the others while waiting for the grackle to emerge from the shrubs, discussing cameras, lenses, tripods, and a gimbal head that he was particularly recommending. As the rain began to intensify, Nick and I both headed back to the cars to grab covers for our cameras and lenses. Before we could return, however, the grackle reappeared. We watched as it strolled across the lawn, foraging with complete confidence. Eventually, it hopped onto the fence, then onto the neighbouring lawn. Rather than flying, it walked down the driveway, out through the gate, along the pavement, and back into the original garden - absolutely incredible. It was so close to us, showing no fear whatsoever. I had to cross the road to get far enough away to get the full bird in the frame.
The rain kept falling, and I’d managed to take a few shots that I hoped would turn out well. With the grackle still showing no signs of doing anything different, there seemed little reason to stay. Nick clearly felt the same, so we all packed up and said our goodbyes.
Back in the car, we discussed our next move. A scarlet ibis had been lingering at Goatee Beach just along the coast, and our friends Adrian Sparrowhawk and Bryan Manston had enjoyed excellent views a couple of weeks earlier. That settled it, we headed in that direction.
We arrived in steady rain, parked in the designated car park, grabbed our gear and walked out towards the water. It was almost high tide, which could make things tricky, as any exposed feeding edges would now be submerged. We set up our scopes and began scanning, picking out good numbers of wigeon, some teal, black-tailed godwits, oystercatchers, curlew and a cormorant, but no ibis.
Time passed before a kingfisher shot through and down the channel. We watched it disappear near the edge of a compound. I continued scanning with binoculars, hoping it might have landed on the concrete wall or posts in the water, while Kev switched to his scope. A couple of minutes later, he called me over. His scope was focused on a pair of wooden posts standing in the water, but there was nothing perched on them. Assuming the kingfisher had flown, I said as much to Kev. He looked at me as though I was missing something, which I was. He told me to have another look and, behind the posts and at some distance, there it was, the scarlet ibis. “You’re not a very good birder, are you?” 😊
I went back to my scope to relocate the ibis while Kev pulled out his flask and poured himself a tea to enjoy while watching it. Unfortunately, by the time we looked again, the ibis had vanished and didn't reappear.
We continued scanning the area, picking up the same species as before along with a couple of Little Egrets, all under persistent rain. A few dog walkers stopped to chat, but eventually we decided to call it a day and head back to Calshot for one final attempt at finding the leucistic starling. If nothing turned up, at least the café in the Activity Centre would be a consolation.
We returned to Calshot and began searching the area again. The water level had risen noticeably, leaving very little exposed feeding habitat along the shoreline, and as a result, the large number of waders we’d seen earlier had moved on. There were fewer starlings too. With the rain still falling, we drove around checking for other starling flocks, but whenever we found them, our target was not among them.
Eventually, we retreated to the café for a late lunch, watching great crested grebes, cormorants, sanderlings, turnstones and others from the windows. After eating, we made one final stop to observe a group of starlings, oystercatchers, ringed plovers, and dunlins feeding on the grass, but the leucistic starling still failed to appear.
As we were preparing to leave, a small bird dropped in, dark-headed, with something of a bunting feel to it. On closer inspection, it turned out to be nothing more than a very waterlogged house sparrow. “Home, James and don’t spare the horses.”
Year list: 248.
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