It is not only birds and moths that come out of the blue. Comet Neowise was discovered on March 27, 2020, by NASA’s Near-Earth Object Wide-field Infrared Survey Explorer (NEOWISE) spacecraft, hence the name. At that point it was heading towards the sun. It made its closest approach to the Sun on 3rd July and is currently powering its way out of our solar system. It won’t return for 6,800 years (assuming it is still intact), so if you want to see it, now is a good time!
Earthsky.org have a nice map to help you find Comet Neowise. I have modified this with my own red arrow, see below. On a clear night, once darkness has fallen (at least 10:45pm in Oxford), simply look north-west and find Ursa Major (The Plough to the English, the Big Dipper to the Americans). Follow a line down diagonally through the rectangle of The Plough and look for the faint streak of the comet’s tail. You can see it with the naked eye, but it is best in binoculars. The numbers on the graphic below refer to the position of the comet on various dates in July 2020:
Above, this is pretty much how Comet Neowise appears in the sky above Headington when viewed from the street.
To add some local interest, I walked around the corner and photographed the comet from underneath the Headington Shark. I like the way the tail resembles the open mouth of some comet-eating space monster.
This blog post looks at some of the more uncommon bird species recorded in the Lye Valley area of Headington, Oxford in spring 2020. It was a phenomenal spring for unusual birds!
Daily coverage revealed that both scarce and rare birds pass through this area, including some entirely unpredicted species. 63 species were recorded in April 2020 alone, out of a total of 81 species recorded ever. I saw the remarkable total of 6 new species for the area in April, meaning that nearly 10% of the species recorded were new for the Lye Valley area. In many ways, there may never be another month like April 2020.
Late March and early April see many species of waterbird take to the wing, moving towards their breeding areas. All the new species added to the Lye Valley patch list in April were birds that breed on or near water. The eBird list for April 2020 is here.
The month began with a regular Little Egret, that could be found feeding in the Lye Valley pools at dawn:
On 3rd April, two Little Egrets were seen to fly in from the west, presumably roosting somewhere near the River Thames. Both landed in trees above the Lye Valley pools:
Red-legged Partridge continued their odd pattern of occurrence. This species has only been recorded in late March and early April, a pattern more typical of migrating birds passing through, though partridges are not known for migration.
My first Mute Swan for the Lye Valley area flew over my head on 11th April:
Sub-adult Mute Swan, over the golf course.
April 12th, Easter Sunday, was a very memorable morning. The unmistakable insect-like song of a Grasshopper Warbler could be heard from Warneford Meadow:
Above, a recording of Grasshopper Warbler, Warneford Meadow, by Isaac West.
Not only was this the first Grasshopper Warbler for the Lye Valley, but it is a remarkable record within Oxford city. It was also the equal earliest Grasshopper Warbler recorded in Oxfordshire this year, another was heard singing in Radley on the same morning (per Ian Elkins).
Shortly afterwards, Issac West found the first Sedge Warbler, singing by the tiny Churchill Hospital Balancing Pond. This bird remained for at least a week:
Sedge Warbler, Boundary Brook Valley, 12th April. Raven, Lye Valley 16th April. With only 4 records in the whole of 2019, there were 4 records in April 2020 alone.
Any species of wading bird is a rarity in the Lye Valley area. Indeed, the only species of wader on the Lye Valley list before April 2020 was a Woodcock, in November 2019. I have often wondered what the next species of wader recorded would be, Lapwing perhaps? With no suitable habitat any species of wader would be like gold dust. As such, nothing prepared me for the shock of seeing two noisy Oystercatchers flying up from the golf course at dawn on 19th April:
Oystercatchers, Southfield Golf Course
This may be the pair that have been regularly recorded on Port Meadow. A pair of Oystercatchers were recorded over Iffley Meadows early the same morning (per Steve Roby) and were seen to fly into Port Meadow late morning (per Dave Lowe). These birds flew over the Lye Valley and away to the north-east, calling loudly:
I was delighted at having recorded Oystercatcher over Headington. But things were about to get much better: on April 25th all my wader dreams came true. Four medium-sized wading birds flew rapidly over the golf course, heading north-east. Fortunately, I managed to grab a few pictures of the birds before they disappeared, the images would prove crucial in confirming their identity. Astoundingly, the birds were 4 Bar-tailed Godwit:
A full write up of my most remarkable 11 seconds in the Lye Valley can be found here. The record has been confirmed and accepted by Ian Lewington, the Oxfordshire County Recorder.
The first Cuckoo for the Lye Valley flew over on 24th April, albeit silently. More satisfyingly, a male Cuckoo was also heard calling on 3rd May. This still remains a rare bird in Headington. Hobby is more frequently recorded, but is still uncommon. The bird below flashed over the golf course on 1st May:
All in all, a superb spring of local patch birding, at the end of my road. There may never be another like it. The full illustrated list of all bird species recorded in the Lye Valley and Warneford Meadow area can be found here. Now, what will summer bring?
Spring 2020 will forever be associated with the coronavirus pandemic. With the country in lockdown, I was unable to work. As such, I took my daily walk at dawn and recorded as many bird species as I possibly could in the Lye Valley, Warneford Meadow and Southfield Golf Course area. These areas surround the Churchill Hospital and Old Road Campus, both of which are actively involved in helping the fight against the pandemic.
Below, Warneford Meadow at dawn in April 2020. My overriding memory of spring 2020 will be the crystal clear visibility and the intense (aircraft-free) blue skies:
This blog post covers some of the common bird species recorded in the Lye Valley area in Spring 2020. I made 46 consecutive dawn visits in the period from late March to early May. More coverage generally means more birds and this certainly proved to be the case. In April alone I recorded 63 species. For context, 71 species were recorded in the whole of 2019. Below are some photographic highlights of the common species of birds in the Lye Valley. The next post will examine some of the more unusual visitors.
Sub-adult Grey Heron, Lye Valley. This young Heron was a regular feature of the Lye Valley in April. 6 Cormorants pass below the setting Moon at dawn, 14th April. April is Cormorant month here, with regular sightings of birds flying overhead. They are rarely recorded in any other month of the year. Displaying male Sparrowhawk, using “slow-motion” wing-beats. Male Kestrel, one of the local pair. Red KiteMale Pheasant: a frequently heard species, but rarely seen. At least two pairs stay hidden in thickets in the area. A pair of courting Stock Doves, a small number of pairs breed in the area. Male Great Spotted Woodpecker, drumming in the Lye Valley. Woodpecker drumming was the dominant sound of the woodland in April, but ceases later in the month as the birds move onto the next phase of their breeding cycle. Eurasian Jay, Lye valleyNuthatch, collecting mud for the entrance of the nest hole, Boundary Brook ValleySinging male Grey Wagtail, Churchill Hospital Balancing Pond, March 2020. Singing Chiffchaff, Boundary Brook Valley. It was a good year for Willow Warblers, with up to 4 singing birds present. All these birds seem to move through though, with none remaining to breed. Male Blackcap, collecting nesting material, Lye Valley. The dominant warbler species. The Lye Valley is filled with Blackcap song in spring and early summer. Garden Warbler: much less frequent than Blackcap, but the odd pair may breed locally. Goldcrest, Warneford Meadow. Blue Tit with face stained yellow with tree pollen. Swallow: the first Swallows passed overhead on 3rd April, with small numbers recorded moving through all month. Two Tawny Owl chicks, found by Isaac West, high up in a sycamore. This is the first confirmed breeding of Tawny Owl, though it has long been suspected. Adult Tawny Owl.
Next: uncommon and rare birds seen in the Lye Valley area in Spring 2020.
A few minutes after 7am on Saturday 25th April I was taking my daily walk around Southfield Golf Course and the Lye Valley in east Oxford. It was my 35th consecutive dawn visit since lockdown began. The low cloud base and cold easterly wind meant I was wearing a coat and gloves and it didn’t feel particularly spring-like. There had been no evidence of any overhead migration at all, when four birds flew over me from behind. I saw them with the naked eye for a few seconds, with binoculars for a few seconds, and then fired off 6 pictures. Most of the time that I could see the four birds, they were flying away from me and slightly to the right. In terms of size and flight action, all four birds appeared identical.
Naked-eye impressions: As soon as I was aware of movement above me, I looked up, saw four birds overhead and thought “waders”! This was staggering in itself. I have made 121 visits to the Lye Valley area (including the golf course) over the last 13 months and only saw my first wader species, two Oystercatcher, six days previously. Lapwing would have been a new species for the area and Golden Plover something to be dreamt about. Any other wader species was nearly unthinkable. As the birds passed overhead, I could immediately see that they were medium-sized waders with long wings and bills. In local patch terms, I was in uncharted territory. They were not small sandpipers or Dunlin or Snipe: they were too large. In terms of their size they appeared to be in the Whimbrel-Godwit category.
Binocular impressions: By now, the birds were flying directly away from me. Probably the worst angle to try to attempt to identify a flying wader. I quickly found them in my binoculars. The birds appeared all dark in the field, I looked for but could not see any white on the wings or tail. No trailing legs could be seen, they did not call. As I was below and behind the birds, I could not see the back of the birds. My guess, on what little evidence to their identity that I had so far, was that they might be Whimbrel. But this was based more on feel, structure and likelihood rather than visible plumage features. Below is an uncropped, unedited picture of the four birds flying north-east over the golf course to show lighting conditions and the height of the birds:
The photographs:
When I looked at the pictures that I had taken, I immediately realised that the four birds were not Whimbrel. The autofocus had locked onto the far-left bird in the flock. The images clearly show that this bird has a long straight bill:
With more photo-editing (heavier cropping; exposure and saturation increase; plus shadow and noise reduction) more features become apparent. This bird appears to have chestnut-coloured underparts and importantly this colour extends to the vent. The underwings look pale, the bill is very long and straight :
Having established that the vent is not white and is chestnut only leaves one conclusion: this bird is a summer plumaged Bar-tailed Godwit. Black-tailed Godwit and all similar species of tringa waders (except Spotted Redshank which is pure black underneath) are white in this area and this would be visible in the images. With the other three birds in the flock appearing identical in size and flight action, it seems safe to conclude that the birds were all Bar-tailed Godwit. FOUR BAR-TAILED GODWIT over Southfield Golf Course, Headington in Oxford city!!! Barwits pass through Oxfordshire in very small numbers in spring and autumn. Any record away from water is good, but to see Bar-tailed Godwit over Oxford city is exceptional.
There was even a slight twist in the tale. Just under an hour later, at 8am, Luke Marriner saw 4 godwits over his local patch, the Oxfordshire Golf Course at Thame some 14km (8.7 miles) to the east, see here. It is quite possible that these were the same birds, although we will never know for sure. The joy of local patch birding is the joy of discovery. Today proved that ANYTHING is possible… given enough time!
Thanks to Ian Lewington, Dave Lowe, Andy Last and Mark Merritt for their input and thoughts.
As life as we know it collapses, never to return, I have been struck by a strange double-edged feeling: paranoid calmness. There is less and less for me to do. My business has closed leaving us with no family income. My children are at home and will be until September. I am calm because there is very little to do. But I am paranoid because the calmness cannot last.
There were at least 10 Chiffchaffs in the Lye Valley area this morning. Seven of them were feeding around the tiny pond at the side of the Churchill Hospital. It was sunlit and protected from the cold easterly wind. A warm, insect-rich pool of calmness. Chiffchaffs were flycatching out over the water. Occasionally they swooped down to take insects from the water’s surface. On one occasion a Robin did the same. I spent over half an hour watching and photographing these tiny olive and grey birds, as they flicked, sailed, bill-clicked, called and sang in the willows around the pond. Their colours changed as frequently as the light did. The calmness of this scene felt eternal.
A total of 48 species were recorded in the Lye Valley and Warneford Meadow area in January and February 2020. Incessant westerly winds, with regular rain, resulted in very mild temperatures. So much so, that expected winter species, such as Fieldfare and Lesser Redpoll, have not been recorded at all this year. There a handful of Redwing in the valley, but far fewer than usual:
The wet winter has filled the ponds in the valley, which by the third week of February are full of frogspawn. This juvenile Grey Heron (adults have a black stripe above the eyes, joining at the back of the head) was investigating the ponds:
Most visits produce Green Woodpecker. This male (note the red moustache, females have all black moustaches!) was feeding in Warneford Meadow:
More unusual was my first Peregrine for the Lye Valley. Two birds were seen on 9th January, one carrying a white Feral Pigeon, flying over Churchill Meadow:
Other raptors seen regularly, included the over-wintering male Kestrel:
A pair of Buzzards were often recorded, this is the paler of the two birds:
Even though we may be in the depths of winter, there is increasing evidence of birds preparing for the breeding season. This Red Kite was seen carrying nesting material on 3rd February :
Whilst the landscape of the Lye Valley is only just beginning to show the first signs of spring growth, the soundscape changes much more quickly. Robins, Wrens and Dunnocks sing all year round, but the intensity and frequency of their song begins to develop as the days lengthen.
Song Thrushes joined them in song from mid-December (these are not my recordings, but examples of the birdsong you can hear in the Lye Valley):
[James Lidster, XC527789. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/527789]
The first Great Tit sang on 9th January:
[Jordi Calvet, XC529801. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/529801]
Great Spotted Woodpeckers were drumming from 27th January:
[James Lidster, XC527766. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/527766]
On 3rd February, the first Chaffinches and Greenfinches began singing:
Chaffinch [Jorge Leitão, XC529142. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/529142]Greenfinch [James Lidster, XC527762. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/527762]
An early surprise was the first singing Blackcap on 12th February. A male in Boundary Brook valley was not in full song, but it won’t be long until the valley is full of singing Blackcaps:
[James Lidster, XC528082. Accessible at www.xeno-canto.org/528082]
Roll on spring! The full list of bird species recorded in the Lye Valley can be seen here.
I spent Friday in north Norfolk with Richard Campey, who lives and works near the coast. It was a relaxed day, with some morning sunshine, before showers moved in from the south-west during the afternoon. We didn’t travel out of north-west Norfolk and saw nearly 70 species without really trying.
Barn Owls were very obvious, perhaps after rain preventing them from hunting last night. We saw at least 6 during the day, including this early morning bird, perched on the way to Holkham Bay, our first stop after Richard had dropped off his son at work.
An area of the marsh at Holkham has been fenced off to allow regeneration of the saltmarsh. This area has been attracting Shorelark this winter. When we arrived 4 birds were right in the middle of fenced off area, but as we watched and waited they worked their way over towards us. Eventually, we had superb views in lovely early morning sunlight:
There were also at least 40 Snow Bunting on the saltmarsh, with over 1000 Common Scoter, 5 Red-breasted Merganser, 4 Long-tailed Duck and 2 Great Crested Grebes on the sea.
As always, the skies and fields of north Norfolk were filled with thousands of Pink-footed Geese, some quite close :
The Rough-legged Buzzard at Wells announced itself by putting up hundreds of Lapwing, Golden Plover and thousands of duck. We had superb ‘scope views of it hunting in front of the pines and frequently hovering before it returned to its regular perch on a building viewable from the road:
The sunshine after yesterday’s rain had brought out the raptors with lots of Kestrels, Marsh Harriers, Common Buzzards and a Sparrowhawk all seen throughout the day.
A wintering Black-necked Grebe on Holkham Hall lake was a nice addition to the day list:
Mr Campey at Holkham Hall
The afternoon saw a change in the weather, with regular heavy rain showers. As darkness fell we popped in to see if the Eastern Yellow Wagtail was about still about, as it’s favourite dung piles are only 10 minutes from Richard’s house. We discovered that it hadn’t been seen in over two hours, so called it a day and went back to Richard’s for afternoon tea. Hard-core birding it wasn’t, but it was a superb chilled-out day with a good friend. We finished the day as we had begun it, with a Barn Owl. We watched this bird hunting by the road near Sedgeford. On one occasion it hovered right above our car, starring down at us, providing the sort of view that is the last thing that countless mice and voles ever see. They are fabulous birds:
Last night was the annual Oxon Birding Awards, held as usual in the Abingdon Spice restaurant:
It is always great to see so many of the birding community turn out, even if they do have to tolerate me reviewing the birding year and hosting the awards ceremony. I forgot to take a picture of the room this year, but one from last year sums up the atmosphere: birds, beer and good company:
Reviewing 2019 was a tough task, as with only 200 species recorded, it is regarded as the least diverse year for bird species on record. However, there are always some superb birds recorded and always some deserving winners:
Despite the alleged comedy value of the award categories, the real function of the Awards is to thank members of the birding community for their work over the last year, although finding a good bird helps too! Jon Uren represented all the volunteers who do so much to maintain Otmoor as our premier wildlife site and there was recognition for all his database and bird record work over the years. Peter Law, who unfortunately could not be present, got an award and thanks for his beautifully written monthly summaries that appear on the Oxon Birding Log every month. Badger, who along with Adam Hartley, runs the website and organised the dinner, was also thanked for the countless hours that he puts in every month. Without these people there would be no Oxfordshire birding community – we thank them all!
This blog post covers the birds (and a few butterflies) recorded in the Lye Valley, Headington, Oxford since September 2019. It follows this post on the highlights of summer 2019.
September sees the departure of some of our summer migrants. Having been continually present since March, the last Chiffchaff was seen on 16th October and the last Blackcap on 30th October. We await the return of these species in early spring.
Chiffchaff
The huge influx of Painted Lady butterflies into the UK in 2019 will be long remembered. Painted Ladys were present into mid-September, with Red Admirals being recorded into early October.
Painted LadyRed Admiral
Jay migration is one of the features of autumn. Jays are secretive birds, usually difficult to approach, but counts of over 10 birds were made in late September and early October.
Britain’s smallest bird, the Goldcrest, is a resident breeder in the Lye Valley, with small numbers present all year. Autumn sees large numbers of Goldcrest arrive in the UK from Scandinavia, boosting local numbers:
In terms of rarity, the highlight of the autumn came in the very brief form of a Woodcock, flushed from the footpath through the scrub between the Golf Course and Barracks Lane on 3rd November.
The male Kestrel that over-wintered on Warneford Meadow last winter appears to have returned this winter:
Red Kites occasionally roost in the taller trees in the Lye Valley :
Buzzards appear to have bred locally. Below, a noisy juvenile bird trails an adult bird. Note the pristine flight feathers and pale tail on the juvenile bird on the left, compared to the adult bird with its all-black trailing edge and signs of wing moult, on the right:
Sparrowhawk, being mobbed by a Carrion Crow.
The wettest early winter period for a number of years was good news for the damp-loving plants in the fens of the Lye Valley. Regular showers also produced a few rainbows:
Below, a Carrion Crow mobs a Red Kite in front of a rainbow:
Grey Wagtails favour the wet edges of the Lye Valley stream, even when it is partially frozen:
As winter sets in and leaf cover falls from the trees, it becomes easier to see some woodland bird species, such as Treecreeper. This species is recorded throughout the year, but only infrequently. On the picture below all the adaptations for a life foraging for insect larvae in bark can be seen: the long, stiff tail feathers that prop the bird against the trunk; the very long hind claws, the long curved bill and long tongue for extracting grubs from the tree.
Ravens appear to have moved into east Oxford this summer, with possible breeding reported in Headington. There were a number of records of Raven over the Lye Valley, including this bird, one of a pair, that flew over on 8th December. The diamond-shaped tail is distinctive, but most birds are picked up on call: they are a vocal species.
Even in late December, birds are beginning to prepare for next year’s breeding season. Up to 4 Song Thrush are now in song and Jackdaws are prospecting holes in the Poplar trees in Boundary Brook Valley. Spring is coming!
71 bird species were recorded in 2019, the illustrated list of all 71 can be seen here on eBird.
This blog post describes three remarkable moments from our trip to Shetland in early October 2019. One reason we planned the trip was as part of the celebrations for my 50th birthday. I also had a party at the Jericho Tavern in Oxford, where I forced my guests to come in fancy-dress as pop stars. It was a superb evening and Andy and Dave took up the challenge too. Unfortunately, their experience of walking through Oxford dressed as Elvis and John Travolta (“Grease” style) made them swear to get fancy-dress revenge upon me. And as it turns out, revenge is a dish best served cold. As I discovered at dawn on the top of Sumburgh Head.
The afternoon before had been written off by the arrival of Hurricane Lorenzo. Gale force south-easterly winds lashed the islands, with horizontal rain from lunchtime until midnight. We sheltered inside our accommodation in Lerwick with only hot food and fine wine for sustenance. After dinner Dave presented me with a copy of the Birds of Shetland, with some handwritten messages from the group, a fabulous, thoughtful and touching present. “But to every ying, there is a yang” said Dave ominously, “to every pleasure, pain“. He then produced a carrier bag and placed it on the table. Inside was the John Travolta costume from my party, Saturday Night Fever style. “Tomorrow is going to be a great bird day. What could be better than finding a rare bird on Shetland… whilst you are dressed as John Travolta?” I had quite liked the sound of the first two-thirds of that sentence. The last third made my blood run cold. A number of options flashed through my mind, including running to the car, driving to Sumburgh and getting the first plane back to the mainland. Except there were no flights. Thanks Lorenzo. I was trapped in a room with a group of four men who were intent on forcing me to dress up as a 70s disco icon. And then go birding. On Shetland in October. The morning after a south-easterly gale. This was cruel beyond any reason. I did the only thing I could. I capitulated.
The next morning, we were up and dressed at the agreed time of 6am. It was still dark. We were all aware that today could be the big day. We had agreed to start at the quarries at Sumburgh Head and then work our way north, checking areas with cover as we went. Under my waterproof trousers, I was acutely aware that I was wearing the tightest pair of white flares ever worn by a human being. Under my waterproof jacket and fleece, a black shirt and white waistcoat acted as my base layer. They had not relented. My fate was sealed.
We drove south, the first light revealing a clear, but cold Shetland dawn. My costume underneath my outer layers was surprisingly bearable. We stopped at the quarries and appeared as normal birders. We flushed a Woodcock, found many fresh-in Goldcrests and Robins, plus the usual Twite, Rock Pipits, Curlew and Rock Doves. Then it was time. We climbed the steep path up to the lighthouse at the top of Sumburgh Head. I was about to make Shetland birding history, but not in any way that I would have ever predicted. Or indeed, in any way that any sane, functioning mind would have predicted.
As is often the way with fancy dress, once you put the wig on, you feel safe. You are not easily recognisable. You can begin to settle into the role of your character. Being John Travolta on stage, in a club with lights and music was comparably easy. You are a creature in his natural habitat: the disco. Becoming John Travolta when you are being forced to strip by the outside of a lighthouse on the southern tip of Shetland is a different game entirely. My changing room was the whitewashed external wall of a lighthouse, in a cold force five south-easterly. My mirror was my reflection in the lighthouse keeper’s window. My music was the sounds of thrushes coming in off the sea and landing in the fields below us. Imagine my shock when I realised that the image that I thought was my reflection in the window, was actually the face of the lighthouse keeper looking out at me. Then imagine his horror too. I put the wig on and prepared to face my hostage-takers.
People involved in road traffic accidents consistently describe a phenomena whereby time appears to rapidly slow down as the point of impact approaches. The actual moment of impact may take only a fraction of a second, but the consequences and the damage done can take a lifetime to come to terms with. I strode out on to the upper car park at Sumburgh Head, with Shetland stretching away to the north, beautifully lit by the rising sun. My hostage-takers had both video and still cameras at the ready. Jason hit play. The familiar sounds of Stayin’ Alive drifted across the car park. Time began to slow down.
Tom Travolta points out a passing Ring Ouzel.
Afterwards, I was allowed to change back into my birding gear. We then returned to the serious business of the day: finding birds.
Two: Otter
On the far side of Bressay, an island just across the water to the east of Lerwick, there is Noss. We saw few birds there but had a lovely encounter with three Otters. Mark found them first of all, calling loudly from the shoreline and playing in the low rocks at the tideline. A little while later Andy, Dave and I had these views as they fed on the east shore of Bressay. They are fantastic, dynamic animals:
Three: Orca
As we began our final full day, Thursday 12th October, things felt a little flat. Not only was the trip nearly at an end, but the winds had been less productive over the previous few days and we had seen most of the long-staying birds that we wanted too. We began by checking out a small plantation near Twatt. Apparently the name comes from the Old Norse þveit, meaning ‘small parcel of land’. So there you go. Mark pointed out a passing Short-eared Owl and our only Sparrowhawk of the trip flapped and glided alongside our car. The obligatory photograph of the village sign followed:
(l-r) Mark, taking one for the team, Jason, Dave, Andy and myself.
We were wondering what to do next, when news broke that an Orca pod had been sighted swimming into Busta Voe, towards Brae at the head of the sea-loch. We were all keen to see Orca and we were only 25 minutes away. We took the road to Voe, then the coast road up towards Brae. We had a quick scan from the loch-head, didn’t see anything, but hoped that we could intercept the pod as they exited Busta Voe past the Wethersta peninsular.
We scanned from the end of the road, without success. Then a vehicle filled with birders pulled up rapidly. “They are coming this way!“. There was only one thing for it: I had to get to the end of the peninsular as quickly as possible. I ran the 600m out to the end of the point, a nice test for my recovering hip stress fracture. Unfortunately, I should have probably stayed with the others at the end of the road. Their extra height and more pairs of eyes got them onto the Orca pod on the very far shore of the loch before I did. By the time I got onto them, they were very distant:
Orca and Orca blow just visible behind the fish farm.
There was some pleasure in watching these huge animals (technically they are dolphins, not whales) make their way out towards the open sea, but we were all left wanting more. Reasoning that they would travel around the south shore of Muckle Roe, they would then have a choice: north or south. We gambled north and drove up to the wonderfully named Mavis Grind in the hope of seeing the pod as they headed north. They never appeared, although there was a report of Orca off the “top end” of Muckle Roe, so maybe our hunch that the Orca had headed north was right after all. The trail went cold. We retraced our steps and headed to Sandwick, where I had one of the less meaningful Bluethroat experiences of my life.
We were just starting to consider our options again when more Orca news came through. The pod was off Hillswick – they had gone north! “Drive like you stole it” Jason ordered Andy, who as always was the model of calm at the wheel. We had 45 minutes or so before we arrived at the base of the Eshaness peninsular. This gave us time to speculate. We wanted to get ahead of the pod and watch them go past, not keep chasing them. We considered many options but eventually settled on Eashaness Lighthouse right on the end of the peninsular. The map below shows the route the Orca pod had taken during the day, we hoped that they would continue around the headland and pass below us.
The views from Eashaness were stunning. It would be incredible to see Orca pass by from up there and you would be looking down on them too. We waited and waited some more, but no Orca. Were we too late or too early? We felt we needed more information. We had noticed a number of people looking out at various points as we traveled along the headland. It seemed sensible to see if there had been any more sightings.
As we approached Braewick, we could see some impressive rock formations offshore. We could also see people jumping from cars and putting up telescopes… did they have something? No, but the Orca pod had just left the bay around the coast and were apparently heading this way. Phew, we hadn’t missed them altogether.
The Drongs, as viewed from Braewick, 5km away.
We waited for the pod to appear around the corner of a large offshore rock called The Runk. Finally, a woman on our right said “There they are!” and in our ‘scopes we could make out the huge fin of the adult male Orca.
The ‘scope views were nice, but these were distant views of a pod of four Orca. Afterwards, I measured on the map and found out that we were 2km away from the pod, who were themselves 2km in front of The Drongs:
Gradually the Orca pod worked their way across the bay, into an increasing westerly gale. I could see a headland to the west. Could we get there? I went back to the car. A combination of a local road to Tangwick and the Right to Roam seemed to indicate to me that we could. We parked up and scrambled out along the low flat headland of No Ness. No Nessie maybe, but hopefully some Orca.
Arriving at the tip of No Ness, we scanned the sea. Had they gone past, were we too late? I was scanning straight out and to the west, but it was Andy who found the Orca pod. They were almost behind us and coming straight towards us!
This was an incredible moment. We had spent all day chasing the pod, with only distant views. We were now perfectly positioned. The Orca pod was going to pass right in front of us in our last hour of daylight, on the final day of the trip. We could sit back and enjoy the experience. A Purple Sandpiper flew in to join us too. The Orca did not disappoint.
I even took the time to take some video as these spectacular beasts passed only about 100m away from us, into the setting sun. We could clearly see the calf with it’s parents, only three months old and all black-and-tan. We sat in silence as the pod passed the end of the point and continued heading west. It was an epic finale to an absolutely superb week. Thank you Andy, Dave, Jason, Mark and Shetland for an unforgettable birthday present.
Me, elated, post-Orca. Dave on the rocks, far left. Ecstatic group selfie, post-Orca.
