Kev @kev07713 and I were weighing up our options for Saturday when we decided on another trip down into Somerset, hoping to finally catch up with the Kentish plover we’d recently missed. There were two clear bonuses to the plan: it would give us the chance to meet up with Karen @hobbylovinglife and Dean @worlebirder, who were also thinking of heading there first thing, and there were several other quality birds in the area that would make the journey worthwhile.
The Kentish plover currently frequenting Burnham-on-Sea has become one of the most remarkable coastal birds in Britain in recent years. Now a scarce and often fleeting visitor to the UK, this individual has defied expectations by returning to the same stretch of Somerset coast winter after winter.
Once a breeding species in southern England, the Kentish plover disappeared as a UK breeding species by the late 1970s, largely due to habitat loss and disturbance. Today it is classed as a rare migrant, with most records involving single birds that stay only briefly. Against that backdrop, the Burnham-on-Sea bird stands out as truly exceptional.
First recorded there in the winter of 2019–20, it settled among the regular wader flocks on the beach and adjacent mudflats, often associating with ringed plover. Rather than moving on, it remained for extended periods, allowing prolonged views and a chance to become familiar with its behaviour and changing plumage. Even more remarkably, it returned in subsequent winters, showing clear site fidelity to Burnham-on-Sea. The story gained wider significance when tracking work later confirmed its continental origins, linking this modest Somerset shoreline with breeding grounds in northern Europe.
We made an early start, arriving on the esplanade shortly after dawn to give ourselves the best possible chance. The conditions weren’t ideal - the tide was falling (high tide at 5.17am, low at 11.51am) and dog walkers were already on the beach - but we were keen to be in position early. We’d skipped breakfast, planning instead to meet Karen and Dean for food once we were done at Burnham.
I pulled up outside the café on the esplanade - Kev and I unloaded our gear. It quickly became apparent that this stretch of parking might incur charges, whereas just 50 metres down the road it was clearly signed as free between October and March, so I moved the car while Kev set up and began scanning the area where the Kentish plover had most recently been reported. By the time I returned he already had the bird, and I jumped onto his scope for a look, just in case. It was only just visible through binoculars, but soon I had it in my own scope and noticed a small group of ringed plovers off to the left, all alert and occasionally preening. There was still little light, but I took a few insurance shots.
Some time later Karen and Dean arrived, delayed by the need to drop Dean’s car and keys at the garage for repairs, and by a stop for breakfast en route. Once the café opened, Kev went in and emerged with sausage baps, which we ate while continuing to watch the bird and scan the beach and Stert Island. On the island a peregrine was devouring what must have been a recently caught bird, while off the point there were large numbers of shelduck and dozens of curlews. A flock of wigeon whirled in and settled on the water, and increasing numbers of grey plover appeared in the distance. The light gradually improved as the sun briefly broke through, although its low angle made it rather harsh on the bird.
Karen wandered off to see if she could get a better angle, and when she returned we discussed our next move. A red-necked grebe at Cheddar Reservoir seemed the obvious choice. Red-necked grebes are migratory waterbirds that breed on northern freshwater lakes and wetlands across much of northern Europe and Asia, moving south in winter. In the UK they are scarce winter visitors and passage migrants, most often recorded along sheltered coastlines between October and March, but they do occasionally turn up on large inland waters, particularly after periods of unsettled weather.
The subspecies most frequently encountered in Britain is the European form, Podiceps grisegena grisegena. Birds of this subspecies breed across northern and eastern Europe and into central Asia, migrating to wintering areas that include the north-west European seaboard. Another subspecies is Podiceps grisegena holbollii, which breeds in North America, Alaska and eastern Siberia and is exceptionally rare in Britain, with only a handful of confirmed records.
There has been some discussion surrounding the Cheddar bird, particularly regarding bill length in comparison with the typical European form, but identification of the American (Holbøll’s) subspecies would require biometric measurements or DNA evidence before it could be considered by the British Birds Rarities Committee (BBRC).
We followed Dean and Karen down to the car park at the end of the reservoir where the grebe had been reported earlier, then climbed up onto the perimeter path, immediately linking up with Dean who already had the bird in his scope. The light was good from this vantage point, but the grebe was at extreme range. I took a quick record shot before following Karen around to the edge, where we would be as close as we could get - Kev and Dean stayed put as they were taking video through their scopes.
The light flanks seem to suggest this bird may not be holboellii - they tend to be darker overall, particularly on the flanks that are often the same or a similar colour as on their back - within the grisegena subspecies, bill length varies normally between individuals and some birds simply sit at the longer-billed end of the distribution. Juveniles also often have proportionally slimmer, sometimes seemingly longer bills compared to head size, which can give a “long-beaked” impression even if absolute length isn’t greater. There is an interesting article on the species here.
The bird was closer now, but largely in silhouette with the brighter light behind it. The priority was to study it carefully through the scope while also trying to salvage the best photographs possible from the conditions. Gradually the grebe began to drift closer and hopes rose of improved views, with Kev, Dean and a few other birders now having joined us. Those hopes were quickly dashed when a paddleboarder passed through, pushing the birds away from the shoreline, and our grebe eventually resumed feeding at distance. As if to mirror the turn of events, rain (tears) began to fall. When it eased slightly, I picked up a black-necked grebe on the far side of the reservoir, which Kev also managed to locate. The red-crested pochards previously reported appeared to have departed, but we did see a pair of goosanders before they too moved on.
Dean and Karen decided to walk round to look for the black-necked grebes, but Kev and I didn’t feel the need for better views, having enjoyed excellent ones at Staines Reservoir recently. After saying our goodbyes, we jumped back in the car and headed for RSPB Ham Wall, where a pair of ring-necked ducks had been reported. Initially a single drake had been present from 19 November, with numbers increasing to two drakes by 13 December. The ducks were on a small pit east of Allotment Drove at Sharpham, and when we arrived to check the area, it dawned on us that this was the same spot where we had seen a Squacco heron back in October 2023. (blog post here).
Ring-necked ducks in the UK are rare but increasingly regular vagrants from North America, with multiple records each year. They’re considered a scarce migrant/scarce visitor, and while their status isn’t as unpredictable as it once was, they still attract interest when found because of their origins and relatively low numbers here - typically there are around 10 or more individuals recorded annually, though totals can be higher in some years. Although called “ring-necked”, the neck ring is subtle; the white bill rings are usually the most reliable field feature.
We checked the pit where the ducks had last been reported and bumped into another birder, a friend of Dean and Karen, who had apparently spotted us as we left Burnham-on-Sea. After a brief chat we split up to search in opposite directions: he headed back towards the original pit, reasoning that the birds often tuck themselves in among the reeds along the water’s edge, while we made for the larger body of water where the Squacco heron had been. Kev set up his scope and, as he raised it, the two drakes were already in view. He asked if I fancied another year tick and I took a look. The birds drifted closer together before swimming off towards the reed edge, where they began diving and feeding along the margins, the stems twitching as they worked their way through underwater and bubbles breaking the surface above them.
We could see siskins flitting in the trees overhead, marsh harriers drifting through, and caught a brief glimpse of a Cetti’s warbler before wandering down the track, where we encountered over 80 mute swans and a group of agitated long-tailed tits in a small tree. As Kev approached, he noted that a bird had dropped out and appeared to be a sparrowhawk, the likely cause of the tits’ alarm. Within a couple of minutes, Kev spotted it fanning its tail in a distant tree, presumably drying its feathers after the recent rain.
Before we packed up, a flock of geese flew through. While I was still watching the sparrowhawk, Kev looked up and spotted a white-fronted goose among them. I raised my camera and took a shot of the flock, counting around 60 birds, all Russian white-fronted geese.
It was time to start heading home, but on the way we made a detour to Oldbury Power Station, where my wife Charlotte and I had seen black redstarts at the end of October last year (report here). We made our way around to the compounds where I have seen these birds previously. After about five minutes, I spotted a female flick up into the sky before dropping from view. I continued scanning and soon saw it again at the base of some railings, only for it to disappear once more. Kev scanned the area but drew a blank, so I took over the scope to focus precisely where I had last seen it. Within a minute, it popped up, and I was able to share it with Kev.
We decided to move onto the track along the estuary wall, hoping for a better view into the compound. Despite a thorough search, we came up empty-handed. Kev returned towards the spot we had watched from earlier, and as he reached the corner to leave the track and climb the slope, he spotted the redstart on the ground between two trailers. He called me over, and I arrived in time to watch it hopping forward, still at a distance. Kev moved on, and as I waited, the bird hopped onto a traffic cone, perching there for a couple of minutes before being flushed by a stonechat and disappearing from view. I returned to join Kev, but we couldn’t relocate it.
It was definitely time to head home, so we returned to the car, stopping briefly in the orchard along the way. There, we spotted a couple of jays, two green woodpeckers, a great spotted woodpecker, fieldfares, redwings, a goldcrest, and a mix of tits and finches. Kev also heard some siskins, though we never managed to locate them.
Another great day out, and it was wonderful to catch up with Karen and Dean again.
Year list: 153.
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