A tern was first recorded at Dawlish Warren on 3 December, initially roosting on a mid‑estuary buoy before moving to another near Cockwood as the tide rose. Later that evening, the sighting was confirmed as a lesser crested tern. The following day, 4 December, the bird remained in the lower estuary, frequently using the yellow wildlife‑refuge buoys and easily visible from both Cockwood and Warren Point. With a significant improvement in the weather, sightings from the Stuart Line Cruises boat were excellent, and Ewan Urquhart @Stormvogel99 shared some particularly striking views of the tern on X (here, or here). Sightings from the shore were more distant but good.
The lesser crested tern breeds around the Red Sea, the Indian Ocean, and parts of the Arabian Peninsula, and in some regions it migrates, wintering along the coasts of East Africa, South Asia, and Southeast Asia. In the UK, it is an extremely rare vagrant, with only nine previous confirmed records. Most sightings have occurred in autumn or early winter, usually in southern England, including Devon, Dorset, Kent, and Sussex. Each appearance tends to draw considerable interest from birders, many of whom recall seeing or “dipping” the species when the last one was confirmed over 10 years ago.
It can be identified by its striking orange bill (unlike the yellow or black‑tipped bills of similar terns), pale grey upperparts, and a smaller, slimmer profile compared with a sandwich tern.
On Thursday afternoon, I contacted Kev @kev07713 to see if he would be working on Friday. He said he’d let me know but hoped to finish his work in time that day and so be free. We thought it might be a good chance to try for this bird, a lifer for both of us, and perhaps avoid the Saturday birding curse. If the tern remained, we could always try on the Saturday if he couldn't get finished. Later that evening, Kev got in touch to say he was free, and that he and his wife Karen could join me on Friday. Having put in a heavy shift all week, we decided on a leisurely start and planned to leave at 6.00am.
We skipped breakfast and headed straight to the Dawlish Warren car park, planning to walk out along the beach and then back up beside the golf course to the hide, where the best views were being reported. It was now after 9.00am, and BirdGuides had listed sightings of the bird over an hour earlier - so unless we were unlucky, we were hopeful. A birder walking back confirmed it had still been present when he left 15–20 minutes earlier.
We continued through the reserve’s fields toward the beach, then followed the shoreline, encountering a strong wind that was forecast to strengthen as the morning went on, with rain expected by mid- to late-morning. When we reached the hide, around ten birders were already set up with scopes, watching the tern on the sand, lined up with a red-and-white boat. An oystercatcher was standing directly in front of it, leaving only the tern’s head and neck visible.
We took a few photos - you never know what might come out. Eventually the oystercatcher shifted, giving us a clear view of the tern at last. From that distance, it was hard to tell whether phone-scoped shots or the camera would produce anything usable; the light was dreadful, and the wind shook the tripod so much that even filming a short video was a challenge. The bird remained motionless for quite some time as the tide gradually ebbed - high tide had been just before 7.00 am, while it was still dark.
Time passed, but eventually the tern lifted off and flew to the right before circling back to work across the estuary, fishing into the wind. We watched it fly, though it never seemed to dive - in fact, we never saw it touch the water as it made a couple of passes. Between these passes we would lose sight of it and wait for it to be relocated. Alan Boddington (@alanbodd) arrived, and after a quick greeting he was soon on the bird too. Within five minutes it drifted further away from us and settled on the sand closer to Cockwood, still just visible through our scopes.
After about ten minutes we decided to pack up and try for the bird from the beach near the pedestrian crossing over the train tracks. A light drizzle had been falling but had thankfully stopped, and it made sense to get the walk back to the car done while it was dry. As it turned out, the return route was straight into the wind, making the push back to the car an effort.
Back at the car we packed up, and as we were about to leave, we bumped into Jim Hutchins (@jimhutchins2). He decided to follow us to Cockwood rather than walk the beach while the bird was elsewhere - he could always head back later if needed. We reached the lay-bys and pulled in, taking only binoculars and cameras at first as the rain, right on cue, had begun to fall. After crossing the tracks, the watchers already on the beach confirmed that the bird was no longer in view - it had moved on again.
With the rain intensifying, Karen headed back to the car while Kev and I collected our scopes and set them up. I stayed at the foot of the steps to scan, while Kev moved down the beach with Jim. After five or ten minutes, Jim began climbing back up to return his camera to the car - by now we were standing in a full downpour. As he reached the top of the steps, Kev suddenly shouted that he had the bird. Jim couldn’t hear him over the wind and rain, so I called him back, and we all hurried down the beach to where Kev was positioned.
There was our bird, working along the line of boats off Dawlish Warren. We watched it follow the same fishing pattern as before, still without diving. We lost it a couple of times, but at one point had excellent scope views - even a brief break in the rain - though it didn’t last. Once the rain settled in again and we were all thoroughly soaked, we retreated to the car to join Karen and began the journey home, stopping for lunch along the way.
On Saturday morning, the tern altered its usual behaviour, first appearing briefly on a post at Warren Point before disappearing. After some time, it reappeared to feed at mid-range in the bay, albeit only briefly and without approaching closely. Later, news came through that the bird had moved roughly six miles to a pontoon elsewhere in the estuary, sparking a flurry of birders eager to track it down. Some headed to Cockwood and planned to continue on to Starcross, hoping the tern had relocated there. Despite the chase, its appearances remained fleeting and mid-range, making good views challenging.
After keeping observers guessing for much of the day, the tern finally revealed itself, preening on the beach off Cockwood. The incoming tide gradually moved the tern closer onto a post, allowing our friends Adrian, Bryan, Karen, and Dean to tick the bird and enjoy excellent views. Later, a birder shared some stunning photos on X (here).
Meanwhile, Kev and I decided to visit WWT Slimbridge for a general day’s birding and to catch up with the returning Bewick’s Swans. Twenty-seven had been reported on 1 December, mostly around the Rushy - the lowest returning number on record. We arrived just as the members’ gate opened and set off to see what we could find before the main crowds came in. After a brief stop in the Peng Observatory, we continued to the Rushy Hide, where we scanned the water and watched a fine selection of ducks: mallard, pintail, wigeon, teal, pochard, gadwall, shoveler, tufted ... the Bewick's were there but only about a dozen - the others would be out across the reserve. I took a couple of photos of the Bewick's but also concentrated on the pintails as they are one of my favourites. Again, the forecast was for rain and the light was awful.
I’m not sure why, but I rarely take photos of moorhens - yet when a pair scooted across the water, I suddenly felt compelled to capture the moment.
We left the hide and continued along the path, stopping to check the Tack Piece, where we picked out eight ruff among the redshanks. Out in the field were hundreds of wigeon, with a few golden plovers mixed in for good measure. On the water, hundreds of pintails were gathered - the largest flock of them I’ve ever seen. We scanned through the birds, hoping a kingfisher might drop in, but eventually moved on, pausing to look for the water rail under the feeders - no luck there either. A couple of volunteers asked whether we’d seen or heard the firecrest; we hadn’t, and in truth we hadn’t even known one was around. We worked up and down the stretch they pointed out but could ‘only’ turn up a handful of goldcrests. We paused to photograph a particularly striking teal, its vivid green wingbar creating a beautiful contrast.
Eventually, we reached the Estuary Tower and looked out over the Dumbles. There were plenty of Canada geese, along with significant numbers of Barnacle geese. While scanning, we spotted a lone Ross’s goose - initially asleep, it eventually got up and began feeding alongside the other geese. Further back, a bar-headed goose was pointed out, though it hadn’t been obvious on a couple of earlier passes. Kev also picked out a peregrine perched on a fence, though at quite a considerable distance and impossible to see without a scope - no point in taking a photo. We could also make out a buzzard perched on a distant fence, feeding on what appeared, through the scope, to be the remains of a lapwing.
Although there were plenty of birds about, we couldn’t find anything new, so we headed back toward the Visitor Centre and on to the Zeiss Hide. A couple of people were already inside, and one mentioned that two marsh harriers had just been seen distantly and appeared to have dropped down near a particular bush. We scanned the area and kept watch. After five minutes or so, two crows lifted from that spot and flew across the water carrying carrion. Another five minutes later, a cream-crowned marsh harrier rose up, immediately mobbed by lapwings. At that moment a peregrine appeared beside it, briefly interacting before both birds came under attack. They split, the marsh harrier dropping back out of sight while the peregrine veered left. The peregrine circled the area a couple of times before disappearing as well.
With the excitement over, we stepped out of the hide and began heading toward the Kingfisher Hide, stopping at the screen just beyond the fenced gate. I joked that we might find a water rail here, as we sometimes hear them in this spot. To our surprise, a woman birder/photographer was already leaning against the screen, photographing exactly that - a water rail. It fed near a few moorhens, moving back and forth before drifting away. Once I felt I’d managed a decent photo, we carried on. I suggested that if it kept moving in that direction, we might catch up with it again later from the Van de Bovenkamp Hide.
We’d hoped to catch up with some white-fronted geese, but none were in sight, and the volunteers confirmed that none had been reported that day. There was little else to note from this hide or from the Kingfisher Hide. On our way back, a woman called us over and asked if we could identify a bird opposite the hide - it was our water rail. Just as we’d guessed, it had worked its way along the entire track and was now heading back into the reeds.
We made our way back toward the Visitor Centre and came across a mixed flock of tits - long-tailed, blue, and great - with a couple of goldcrests mixed in. Then, moving quickly among them, was the firecrest we’d searched for earlier. It passed through at speed, and with all the twigs, leaves, and branches, I struggled to keep it in frame; Kev had a bit more success with his shorter lens. I managed a record shot, though not when the bird was out in the open.
The flock moved on and the area soon quietened. We headed back to the Centre for lunch before starting the journey home. The weather had been kinder than the day before, and for once we didn’t need to dry out our gear - almost constantly required on recent weekends. I wonder what will turn up next?
Year list: 250.
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