Showing posts with label manx shearwater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manx shearwater. Show all posts

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.

Friday, 5 June 2026

Saltcoats & RSPB Ham Wall :: 27-30 May 2026

My eldest daughter had been encouraged to take some of her annual leave before the end of June and asked when we might next be heading north to visit my mum in West Kilbride, as she hadn't been to see her for some time. With my mum also having been ill, it seemed the perfect opportunity to arrange a trip.

Once the bank holiday weekend was over, we set off and made the journey north, arriving in time for lunch with Mum and later dinner with her and my brother.

As is often the case on these visits, I like to rise early and spend a few hours birding before breakfast, or at least for as long as the sunrise and available daylight allow. The only question was where to go.

I had been thinking that I should focus on species I hadn't yet seen this year, and a series of posts on the Ayrshire WhatsApp group the previous week helped make the decision. Jason McManus had reported from Saltcoats: "Arctic Skua – 2, Pomarine Skua – 2 singles north, Long-tailed Skua – 23 north." There had been various smaller counts through the month.

Although I was a little late to the party and the wind conditions had changed since those sightings were reported, you never know. With that in mind, I decided that Saltcoats would be my destination for the morning.

I'd never met Jason before, but I knew he was often sea watching from behind Oscar's Café throughout May. So, when I collected my scope from the car and walked around to the usual spot, I assumed the chap sitting on a chair scanning the sea was him. After introducing myself, I discovered it wasn't Jason at all, but a local birder called Dave, who apparently spends quite a bit of time there as well. He explained that Jason had been celebrating his son's football team's latest success and wouldn't be making an appearance that day.

A couple of text messages later, Jason confirmed that the easterly winds were expected to persist until Thursday before swinging round to a more favourable westerly on Friday. That would make Friday the best day for sea watching - and, as it happened, my last day in the area.

Although the conditions weren't ideal, you never know what might turn up, so we set about scanning the water while enjoying long conversations about local birding and sites. At first there was little activity offshore, but then a lone tern passed overhead. I initially assumed it would be a sandwich tern, the species I most commonly encounter along this stretch of coastline during late spring and summer. However, it proved to be an Arctic tern - a welcome surprise and one I had somehow missed on passage through my local region earlier this spring.

Arctic terns are extraordinary birds. Despite their delicate appearance, they undertake one of the longest migrations in the natural world, travelling from their Arctic breeding grounds to the waters around Antarctica and back again each year. It is a journey that can cover tens of thousands of miles and allows them to experience more daylight than any other creature on the planet.

In the field, Arctic terns can be a challenge to separate from common terns, but this bird showed well enough to reveal the long tail streamers and graceful, buoyant flight that make the species so distinctive. Watching it pass by on a breezy Ayrshire morning, it was hard not to marvel at the incredible distances it may already have travelled - and the many thousands of miles that could still lie ahead.

Despite being famed for their extraordinary migrations between the Arctic and Antarctic, Arctic terns are also a familiar breeding bird around Scotland's coasts. They nest in colonies on islands, coastal headlands, beaches and even some freshwater lochs. Indeed, Scotland supports most of the the UK's breeding population, with colonies scattered throughout Shetland, Orkney and the Hebridean islands. As a result, this may well have been a bird remaining relatively local rather than one merely passing through on migration, and given it was heading south at the time.

The UK breeding population is generally estimated at around 53,000–54,000 pairs, of which approximately 47,000 (close to 90%) breed in Scotland.

Arctic tern
Arctic tern

Manx shearwaters gradually began to appear, although all were at considerable distance and I didn't bother attempting any photographs. The usual common guillemots were present offshore and were joined by a few black guillemots, presumably birds from the harbour, along with several razorbills and what I suspected was a puffin, although the view was too brief and distant to be certain.

Three gulls passed through that caught my attention. They appeared noticeably smaller than the expected herring and lesser black-backed gulls and, at first glance, I wondered whether they might be fulmars or perhaps kittiwakes - they weren't black-headed. A closer look at the photographs later suggesting common gulls.

Most Scottish common gulls move inland to breed, nesting around lochs, moorland, peatlands and islands. By late May many adults will be on breeding territories, so coastal numbers tend to be reduced compared with the large winter flocks seen around harbours, beaches and farmland. That said, it's still perfectly normal to encounter non-breeding or immature birds lingering along the coast or birds commuting between feeding areas and inland breeding sites.

It was an enjoyable morning, with plenty of gannets and shag moving back and forth offshore, although there was surprisingly little activity from any divers and an absence of any skua candidates.

Common gull

The following morning I decided to return to Saltcoats and repeat my vigil, this time finding myself alone at the watchpoint. A few spots of rain had fallen overnight, but nothing significant or enough to make the ground wet, and the easterly wind was exactly as forecast, accompanied by temperatures a few degrees cooler than the previous day.

From the moment I set up the scope, Manx shearwaters were visible offshore, while good numbers of common guillemots passed by in small groups of between one and eight birds. Looking out towards Lady Isle, around forty gannets were circling and occasionally plunge-diving, presumably after shoals of mackerel.

Lady Isle Lighthouse provides an excellent reference point when communicating sightings to other sea watchers and serves as a distinctive feature on the horizon. It stands on Lady Isle itself, approximately two miles south-west of Troon in the Firth of Clyde. The island was once home to a chapel dedicated to St Mary, from which it takes its name.

Situated on this low-lying island, the lighthouse warns mariners of the dangers posed by Half Tide Rock and Scart Rock, while also aiding navigation through the Firth and towards the harbours of Troon and Irvine. The site's maritime history stretches back to around 1776, when Glasgow merchants established a pair of beacons to assist shipping. One of these was later removed, and the present lighthouse was eventually constructed on the remaining site. When aligned correctly, it guided vessels into a safe channel and anchorage and provided sheltering access for ships bound for Irvine.

This morning proved rather different, with several divers visible offshore almost from the outset. Most appeared to be red-throated divers, although one bird looked rather more like a black-throated diver. Unfortunately, it remained too distant for a confident identification. By the end of the watch, I had counted around half a dozen divers in total, a marked contrast to the previous day's complete lack of activity.

The sighting was particularly encouraging given some of the impressive diver counts recorded recently along the Ayrshire coast. Combined counts reported from the Turnberry to Girvan and Ballantrae to Girvan stretches on a single day produced totals of 39 red-throated divers, 25 black-throated divers and an impressive 104 great northern divers. Quite a tally, and a reminder of just how important these waters can be for divers at this time of year.

Red-throated diver

Two large birds appeared from the north and steadily worked their way past offshore. As they drew closer, I was able to identify them as a pair of red-breasted mergansers. They would prove to be the only individuals of the species that I saw during my time at Saltcoats.

I was a little surprised not to encounter more. Stevenston Point is only a short distance away and I have traditionally seen much larger numbers in the bay there. During the winter and early spring, this stretch of coast can hold good concentrations of red-breasted mergansers as birds gather in the sheltered bays but by late May, many breeding adults have likely dispersed to their nesting areas, while those remaining along the coast are spread over a much wider area. Non-breeding and immature birds may still be present, but generally in far smaller numbers than earlier in the year.

Red-breasted merganser
Red-breasted merganser
Red-breasted merganser

Three gulls passed at considerable distance and immediately appeared different from the more usual large gulls, such as herring and lesser black-backed gulls. Equally, they were clearly not black-headed gulls. Identification remained uncertain until one bird banked, briefly revealing the distinctive upper wing pattern of a first-summer kittiwake.

Despite the range, the bird's age was apparent from the bold black "M" pattern across the upper wings. Formed by dark markings on the outer wing, coverts and shoulder area, this striking zig-zag pattern is a classic feature of immature kittiwakes and stands out particularly well when a bird turns in flight. Retaining some of the dark markings of its first-winter plumage while beginning to acquire a more adult-like appearance, it proved to be a pleasing identification and a useful reminder to keep an eye on even the most distant gulls.

Kittiwake

With black guillemot resident in the harbour, it is perhaps no surprise that they venture out along the nearby coastline from time to time. The first bird flew in directly in front of me, providing great views, and was soon joined by a second.

Their visit was brief, however, and after spending a short while offshore, both birds took to the air and headed back in the direction of the harbour, from where they had almost certainly originated.

Black guillemot
Black guillemot

One bird attracted my attention as it worked its way across the water among a line of Manx shearwaters. At first glance it appeared to have a strikingly white bill, prompting a closer look through the scope. As it drew nearer, the mystery was resolved - it was simply a cormorant, the apparent white bill being nothing more than the conspicuous white wedge at the base of the lower mandible catching the light.

By now, Manx shearwaters were a constant feature of the watch, with dozens visible offshore at any one time as birds streamed past in both directions.

Manx shearwater

Three terns appeared together offshore and immediately had me reaching for the scope, hopeful that they might be Arctic terns like the one that had passed through the day before. Sadly, it wasn't to be. A closer look revealed them to be sandwich terns, a much more expected sight at this time of year.

They powered their way along the coast, barely pausing and showing no interest in fishing. Within a few minutes they had disappeared from view, perhaps continuing towards Stevenston Point or Irvine.

My time ran out again and again there was no sign of any skuas.

Sandwich tern
Sandwich tern

My final morning arrived and, for the third consecutive day, I found myself heading to Saltcoats. This time, however, I did so with the knowledge that the wind had finally swung around and was now blowing in the favourable direction that Jason had predicted.

After parking up, I unpacked my scope from the car and was about to walk around behind Oscar's when I heard someone call out from behind me. Looking round, I spotted Jason sitting on the steps of the tower overlooking the tidal pools. I wandered across, introduced myself, and joined him for the morning's watch. Apparently, the stronger wind was far less punishing from our position. By way of comparison, Jason pointed out Dougie Edmond, who was perched on top of the tower at the end of the harbour wall, far more exposed to the full force of the elements.

No sooner had I set up my scope than Jason picked up a peregrine hunting offshore. As we followed it through the scopes, he explained that peregrines are sometimes seen making optimistic attempts to catch Manx shearwaters, although their presence can also indicate storm petrels moving through the area. We kept a close eye on it for a while, but eventually lost sight of the falcon and, despite our hopes, there was no sign of any storm petrels.

Three red-throated divers flew through, and I hurriedly tried to get a photograph. Unfortunately, by the time I got the camera onto them they had climbed higher against the sky and were already heading further offshore, leaving me with little chance of a good image. A little later, Jason picked out a common scoter far out to sea, followed shortly afterwards by a puffin, my first of the year, and then I spotted 12 kittiwakes.

As we continued scanning the horizon in the hope of finding a skua, conversation flowed between sightings. We talked about all manner of birding topics, his son's football team and their recent successes, the match he would be attending that evening, and eventually discovered that he knew my youngest brother. Meanwhile, the steady procession of razorbills, common guillemots and Manx shearwaters continued, but still there was no sign of a skua.

Time was slipping away and I had been watching for over two hours when a WhatsApp message arrived from Dougie. He was alerting us to a dark-morph Arctic skua heading in our direction. I hadn't seen the message before the bird suddenly materialised, appearing from the gap between our position and Dougie's watchpoint before powering past behind a shag. At last, a skua!

The encounter caught me slightly off guard and I struggled to get the bird in the camera's viewfinder. By the time I managed to lock onto it, the skua was already some distance away, meaning most of my photographs were taken as it passed in front of us or disappeared into the distance, resulting in a collection of increasingly poor images taken from behind.

I remained for another half hour, hoping for a repeat performance or perhaps a second skua, but none materialised. Eventually I had to head back to the hotel for a shower before breakfast and checkout. Later that afternoon, however, I saw a message from Dougie reporting another dark-morph Arctic skua from Stevenston Point, suggesting there may have been more birds moving through the area that day.

Arctic skua

I set off for home with the family in mid-afternoon, eventually arriving back a little after 10.00pm. During the journey, I had been exchanging messages with Kev Heath about the possibility of another birding trip the following morning.

Fortunately, Kev offered to do the driving, which was much appreciated after a long day on the road. We eventually settled on a visit to RSPB Ham Wall, where both a Savi's warbler and a blue-winged teal had been showing from VP1. Kev had attempted to see a different Savi's warbler in Northamptonshire a couple of times in recent days but had only managed to hear it - this offered another opportunity. There was also the possibility of a great reed warbler, although reports suggested it was proving far easier to hear than to see, spending most of its time hidden away in the bushes.

That prospect didn't particularly concern me. Only a few weeks earlier I had spent a considerable amount of time listening to a great reed warbler skulking in the bushes at Belvide Reservoir, so I didn't feel a pressing need to repeat the experience.

We decided against stopping for breakfast on the journey south. With toilets available at the reserve and no real need for a break, we made good progress and arrived at the car park in good time. Better still, an update had already come through confirming that the blue-winged teal had been seen that morning.

Making our way along the track to VP1, we found Kev's sister Karen @hobbylovinglife and her partner Dean @worlebirder among the dozen or so birders already gathered there. Although the teal had apparently been seen earlier, none of those present had apparently seen it but there was a rough indication of where it had last been observed before disappearing into cover. With that as our only clue, we joined the search and began scanning the area in the hope that it would reappear.

Bitterns were exceptionally active throughout the morning. Between bouts of booming, birds regularly took to the air, presumably on feeding flights, and in total through the visit we enjoyed more than half a dozen prolonged views, including many lengthy flights.

Bittern

A couple of hobbies also appeared over the treeline in front of VP1, providing plenty of distraction while we searched for the teal - there were large numbers of dragonflies and damselflies on the wing. Despite carefully checking every likely candidate, there was still no sign of the target bird. Large numbers of gadwall were scattered across the water's edges, and the blue-winged teal had reportedly been associating with them, but none of the flocks we examined contained anything unusual.

Meanwhile, we could hear the distinctive reeling song of the Savi's warbler carrying from some distance away to our right. Kev swung his scope around in that direction, but for the moment the only bird we could pick out among the reeds was a reed warbler.

Eventually, Kev called me over to his scope and pointed out a bird that we quickly agreed was the Savi's warbler. It was now showing more towards the one o'clock position from the platform. We alerted the other birders nearby, but the warbler promptly dropped back into cover before many could get onto it. Our first for the year.

Fortunately, it proved to be a creature of habit, repeatedly reappearing on almost the same broken reed stem. Although distant, the first few views were particularly satisfying as we were able to link the bird's distinctive reeling song to its movements and exact location. Before long, several others had joined us and were enjoying views of the bird. The bird stayed too distant to allow any photographs and Kev shared that even videoing through a scope was very challenging.

One birder standing behind me stepped forward to look through my scope so that he could get a line on the warbler. Unfortunately, I had neglected to lock the scope head, and it shifted slightly when his binoculars caught it. By the time I managed to relocate the bird, it once again slipped from view into the reeds.

Only later did I discover that the birder was Leon Rice @LeonRice861481 and although we follow each other on X, we had never actually met. We chatted about the day's birding, and he shared that earlier that morning he had visited Dawlish Warren to see his first broad-billed sandpiper before travelling up to Ham Wall, where he was hoping to connect with what would also be a new bird for him - the blue-winged teal.

We continued to enjoy intermittent views of the Savi's warbler, although as the morning wore on it became increasingly reluctant to sing loudly enough for us to hear and there were longer periods between appearances. With the excitement of the warbler beginning to fade, our attention returned to the search for the blue-winged teal.

At one point a report circulated of a garganey out in front of us, but none of us knew who had made the identification and there were plenty of puzzled expressions as we scanned the area without success. Despite many pairs of binoculars and scopes covering the pools, nobody could find a garganey.

What we really needed was for the ducks to shuffle themselves and reveal anything hidden from view. Before long, a marsh harrier drifted across the reserve and provided exactly the disturbance we had been hoping for. Ducks lifted from the margins and shuffled around the pools, prompting a frantic effort to work through every bird both in flight and newly exposed along the water's edge. Despite our best efforts, however, there was still no sign of the blue-winged teal.

Meanwhile, black-tailed godwits wheeled gracefully around the pools before dropping back down, only to repeat the circuit again a few minutes later, adding a constant sense of movement to the scene.

Black-tailed godwit

Once this excitement died down, we spent time casually scanning looking for any change in front but also chatted more with the birders around us. Karen and Dean left to go and attempt to connect with the great reed warbler and I started to pay a bit more attention to the dragonflies and damselflies around us. A large chaser dropped on the rail in front of us and then down onto the platform and then onto the grasses beyond.

As I took photographs, I assumed it was a broad-bodied chaser but reviewing the photos I could see it was actually a scarce chaser. Despite their name, they are now more widespread than they once were, although they remain a local and much sought-after species. The Somerset Levels are one of their strongholds in Britain, and late May is an excellent time to encounter them.

The males are particularly striking, their powder-blue abdomens catching the sunlight as they darted back and forth over the water. At first glance they can resemble broad-bodied chasers, but the dark tip to the abdomen and distinctive wing-base markings quickly give them away. Their eyes are bluish-grey, often matching the bluish tone of the abdomen in mature males. Watching them patrol their territories provided a welcome distraction while the search for the blue-winged teal continued.

Other dragonflies were also active, including the more familiar four-spotted chasers patrolling the pools and ditches. I took the opportunity to wander back to the ditch behind the viewpoint, where I found a greater variety of damselflies. Among them were several striking (large) red-eyed damselflies, their vivid crimson eyes standing out immediately in contrast with the otherwise dark, bronze-black body. At a glance they can resemble the more familiar blue-tailed damselfly, but the combination of ruby-red eyes and the metallic sheen to the body makes them distinctive once seen well. The species is widespread across much of England and Wales and has expanded its range significantly over recent decades. It is particularly common on well-vegetated lakes, gravel pits, reservoirs, canals and wetland reserves but less so in northern England and Scotland.

Scarce chaser
Four-spotted chaser
Red-eyed damselfly
Red-eyed damselfly

Eventually it was time to call it a day and begin the journey home, stopping only briefly for a sandwich enroute. We had managed to connect with one of our target species, the Savi's warbler, but the blue-winged teal had managed to evade us.

Reports over the following days suggested that we were far from alone in our frustration. The bird continued to prove remarkably elusive, often appearing for only a matter of seconds before disappearing back into cover or flying out of view. I'll continue to keep an eye on the reports, however. It's a smart-looking duck and one that would be well worth another attempt should the opportunity arise.

Year list: 260.