Clyde Pied Billed Grebe

After dipping out on both Ring Ouzel and Hoopoe earlier this month, I didn't feel much like checking out the alerts this morning. However, when I finally crowbarred myself out of bed, I found an unusually combination in the RBA feed; "Clyde" and "**". Suddenly, getting dressed seemed more important than my morning cuppa.

Thankfully the gear was still packed from the Loch Garten trip, so within minutes I was in the car. I nipped in to "On Your Bike" to see if fellow Cumbrae birder, Sean, could get some cover, then we were off to Loch Thom.

Off the ferry, and within 20 minutes we were pulling into a lay by beside the loch, starting to pick through the waterfowl, occasionally being distracted by wheatear, common sand piper and cuckoos. But aside form the gulls and geese, the loch was quiet. Too quiet. I began to feel guilty for dragging Sean off island...

After scoping out the island with no success, we headed half way up the hill to where we'd noticed another group of birders (which turned out to be the regular Lochwinnoch crowd). Tripod up. Scope on. Bird.

Fastest tick ever. Also, worst phone-scoped image ever - but you get the point. Tiny bird, massive head, stubby little beak. Faith in following shouts restored. I might even go out again tomorrow.

Excuse the water droplet blur!

Hopeless in the Highlands Part 2: the Capercaillie Quest

For the second April in a row, Matt, Tom and I escaped to the wonderful Cairngorms in search of the Scottish greats. Setting up home at the usual base of Estacarny in Tomintoul.

Last year we had limited success, lots of early starts and bad weather. Its shocking to think that last winter everything was covered in drifts of snow. This year I got sunburn.


Day 1

We were up for Caper Watch at 5.30, with me chivying the boys out to the car in the freezing cold, the sun just rising. Unlike last year, the car park was practically full, and we entered the hide to find it lined with birders. Unfortunately, despite the many bodies, the hide was still freezing, and the view noticeably Caper free... Even the ospreys looked frozen and bored and at 7.30, we gave up; heading for second breakfast at Grantown.

Poor Osprey's, we never really stop to enjoy you

Full of lorne sausage and black puddings we parked up at the golf course and wandered into the pines (sticking to the path of course). After 5 minutes of wandering we'd zero'd in on a crested tit high in the canopy (approximately 15 meters up), 15 minutes later we'd found more birders (who said they'd met others who'd seen capers there that morning), and I was regretting carrying my camera.

After 50 minutes I was really regretting it. We were ambling alongside the Spey, trying to work out the quickest way back to the car, when we stumbled across a group of siskin in a birch tree... right beside a spruce that appeared to be raining cones. Finally we'd manage to track down those sneaky Scottish crossbills (and gett some pictures to double check our ID). Time to find the car - which took another 30 mins and a nice shot of a red squirrel - and go back for a nap on the sofa.

Poor crossbill record shot

Red Squirrel at Grantown

Saturday night we were booked into the pine marten hide on the Rothiemurchus estate for a dusk watch run by Speyside Wildlife. If you have limited time and want a completely unforgetable experience, I highly recommend it. John, our guide, was knowledgeable, having worked in the park fr the past 3 years, and the hide was blinking luxury after the -3 start to the day at Loch Garten. There were seats. SEATS! And even double glazing. That wasn't even the best part.

As the light was dropping John told us that badgers habitually used the area, and woodcock and tawny owl could commonly be seen. Then, BOOM, two roding woodcock. Points to me. Quickly followed by views of grazing roe dear. Already happy, we settled in to wait for sun down. And we waited. and waited. After an hour I was beginning to think that the mammals had capercaillied on us, and were destined not to make an appearance. Then Matthew, sitting nearest to the window, pointed down in front of the hide - where a lovely old brock was snuffling at the peanuts. Points to Matthew.

I snapped a couple of quick pictures, then went to tell the others, sat at the far side of the hide, and we were inundated with photographers. He hung around for a good 20 minutes, before shuffling off down the path, just as John told us he'd picked up a marten on the infra-red cameras. A moment later he was up on the platform outside the hide, munching on raisins and peanuts.

His name was Ouzel (which instantly made me happy), last year's kit, still lurking around the territory. He had two small dark patches on his cream bib, and barely stopped eating for half an hour, when he suddenly shot up the tree, came down the other side and slunk over the brow of the rise. We were slightly crestfallen.

Ouzel

I gazed out into that darkness for a while, watching for movement. Just finding interesting rocks. Owl shaped rocks. Points to me. I called the tawny and the rest of the hide shifted again. The bird sat for a while, waiting for mice and bank voles attracted by the food on the ground, and then launched a couple of attacks, before ghosting off into the darkness. That's it. Ten o'clock. time for bed.

Nope. Three more badgers arrived 5 minutes laters, snuffling and shuffling over the peanuts. Their mouths a blur. No quarrelling, no nervousness. Just concerted eating. They cleared up one side of the hide in no time; a female wandering round to the remains in front of the panoramic windows, while the others ambled away into the darkness.

Brilliant badger - thoroughly ignored when the second marten appeared

This female was fearless. right up to the windows. I could have watched her for hours, unfortunately for her, after 15 minutes another pine marten appeared. He was called Twiggy, so named for his poor body condition when he first arrived, and was the local dominant male. He set to clearing up the remaining food and the hide buzzed with happiness. We finally left at 11 30, completely elated, before the hideous realisation that wee had to be up in 5 hours to get to the Caper Watch... and it was a 50 minute drive back to the cottage.

Twiggy

****
Day 2

Almost four hours later I woke up, crept round the cottage, and almost ditched both boys in the attempt to make it to Loch Garten for 5.30. In his rush to catch a lift, Tom double layered pyjamas with clothes, and away we went. The hide was slightly emptier, but more importantly there was a caper. It was distant, but we got it in scope, and a truly awful record shot before it disappeared back into the tree line. I ate a victory cookie, then we went home for more sleep.

Finally

After a solid nap we spent the rest of the day exploring Cairngorm and wandering the shores of Loch an Eilein, where we spent an exciting ten minutes luring in GS woodpecker by drumming on trees, 5 minutes watching goldeneye and teal, and 90 minutes roasting alive.

Species:

Scottish Crossbill
Woodcock
Crested tit
Red grouse
Capercaillie
Osprey
Sparrowhawk
Kestrel
Buzzard
Tawny Owl
GS Woodpecker
Raven
Rook
Carrion Crow
Jackdaw
Jay
Starling
Treecreeper
Goldcrest
Sparrow
Siskin
Mippit
Willow warbler
Great, Coal and Blue Tit
Robin
Blackbird
Song Thrush
Pheasant
Plenty of Oyks, Lapwing, Curlew
Too many Chaffinches
Mallard
Teal
Goldeneye

Mountain Hare
Pine Marten
Badger
Red Squirrel

Unlike last year, we left feeling smug, already planning a trip later in the year - watch this space.

Venturing Out

Its been quiet, hasn't it?... Don't hold it against me, I've been busy.

Since my last post I've pretty much locked myself in my flat; alternately working on my thesis, or on fundraising for this year's International Marine Conservation Congress in Glasgow (you should come along).

The hours have been funny; often 30 hours stints, followed by sleep snatched on sofa or - very occasionally - the floor (my back hurts being hunched over my laptop, laying on the floor helps, the sleep is unintentional). Recreation is a 10 minute drive to Fintry to check out what's in with the geese... I tend to feel guilty when I'm not near my desk.

When I do stop, the last thing I want to do is write a blog post, and I've not been outside to see anything anyway.

I suppose you could say that I've been coping by not coping.

So yesterday I decided to break the rhythm and cook for friends. Of course the result was that today I woke up hung over. I decided to take the scope and a flask round to the far side of the island, do a little sea watching, and let my head adjust. The next thing I knew, I was on the ferry, heading for Stevenson's Point. I'd go and take some shots of the purple sandpipers, and come back feeling like I'd done something fun. 2 hours tops. Back and working by 3...

There was one problem with that plan... No bloody purp. sands. I sett in the scope broke out the flask, and settled in for a sea watch instead. The weather was pretty grotty, and for the first 50 minutes there was nothing but mergansers and eider, idly bobbing in the waves.

"you could have got these on island" my conscience whined.

Then I picked up a few razorbills heading north. Then a red throated diver just inside the cardinal buoy. An arctic tern close in. Then sanderling on the beach. A sandwich tern. 8 common scoter. The tide was well out by this point, no chance of tracking down those sands now...

"you've missed 3 hours of typing time" said the conscience.

Home time then.... right after I drop in on the golf course and tick off the scaup. They're always there anyway...

A cheap tick

Right, done, my flask is cool enough to drink now, which means I've been out way too long...

...maybe I'll just look in at Muirshiel, see it there are any cuckoos or hen harriers around. Seeing as I'm off islands.

...bang! cuckoo is the first bird I see as I get out of the car. Time to stomp around and try to spot a hen harrier. I followed the trails upstream, getting out of the tree line (Muirshiel has a nice mix of coniferous areas and upland heath). The water level was testament to the excess of rain we seem to have had recently.

Everything's damp...

Hardridge Trail

Then as I head up Hardridge, I hear the sound of someone running their fingernail down a comb... dipper! Two in fact, feeding together along the burn. Hen harriers forgotten I spent a good hour snapping the pair, watching them nip in and out of the water (some of which was seeping through my trousers where I was kneeling). One even took a moment to chase off a passing grey wagtail. I was starting to feel much better for ditching work for a day.

Beginning to lose light and decidedly damp I started down the trail for the car park, keeping my eyes peeled for any harriers over the hills. However, the only other thing I managed to tick off was this foraging tree creeper.

Treecreeper at the visitor center

As I got home the ravens were attacking something on the cliff. I was expecting the resident sparrowhawk or kestrel, but it was a peregrine that nipped around the crags, before gaining height over the house and heading for wee Cumbrae.

Bonus Bird

I still feel guilty for going out; but at least it paid off. I think I can hold out until our annual capper hunt on the 18th. Now, time for an 18 hour writing stint. Adios!

Of Pies and Plastic

The weekend before last Allan and I went "birding" down the Clyde. 

When I say birding, I mean that we started at the reserve, where there was a very pretty ring-tail quartering, and then made a punt for Stevenson's Point, where we ticked off purple sandpiper and met a very nice bloke who works on lesser whitethroats. Then we dashed down to Ayr to check out the ducks and deer, and glanced over Bogside for short eared owl - nothing doing - and grabbed lunch at The Ship. 

Seriously, if you ever find yourself in Ayr, drop in for a chicken and banana pie. Its one of those things that, once seen on the menu, has to be tried. So it was chicken and banana pies with mash and roast veg all round. 

I can't explain how brilliant the are, you'll have to follow your curiosity and seek them out for yourself. However, to enjoy them to their fullest, don't eat anything prior to going... honestly, nothing for a week. They also serve up excellent home made shortbread.

Female Hen Harrier (with wonderful glare from the window)

The was also a full adult portion of plastic available for those who know where to look.

You'll have heard me bemoaning the winter weather and its effects on the beaches of Cumbrae. The impact on Ayr was no less severe than that on the island - plenty of tree trunks and car tires - but, the composition of the debris was a little more diverse. The storms had bought more than macroplastics ashore.

Tucked away beside the car park was this wonderful demonstration of my thesis. Raw plastic pellets (nurdles) measuring around 3 mm in diameter, are mixed in with fragments of plastic marine litter. All the perfect size for consumption by fish, waders and any number of passing beasties. Another research question is forming in my mind... "How do seasonal storms affect plastic uptake by biota?..." Watch this space to find out....

Fragments, cotton bud sticks, nurdles; Ayr's got the lot

Most of these beads are pre-production nibs, commonly found in the sea's surface microlayer

Micro 2014 - the first microplastic conference

Apparently Brittany is quite pretty; however, at the first Micro conference, I was seeing none of it. Up, dressed, and to the venue before it was light; leaving at seven - mind shredded and voice aching - in the evenings. I was tired, I was alternately roasted or chilly, and I have the standard post-conference cold. I wouldn't have changed a thing.

Two days of excellent, varied presentations on the formation, distribution, uptake, and impacts of microplastic pollution, from speakers from all over Europe and a few other countries besides. Stand out talks included Bart Koelmans' excellent thought experiments on the partitioning of pollutants between organism and plastic, Matt Cole's wonderful work on planktonic uptake, and Lisa Devriese's work on the movement of contaminants to Nephrops (of course, I am biased).

We emerge, blinking in the unfamiliar daylight, for the group photo.

Being such an emerging field, many of the talks revolved around similar topics; where it was found, what it was found in, where it is coming from, and what it is doing when it arrives. However, there were a few core take home messages:

• Think before you begin your experiment - those little thought experiments can put a whole new spin on otherwise routine research
• Translocation of plastic from the gut to lymph or other tissues is a hot topic. In my humble opinion, in the event of potential sample contamination, if you can't rule out a false positive, you should try getting an actual negative
• Fish from both midwater and benthic environments take in plastic (although this appears to be in the order of a few items per contaminated individual).
• Invertebrates in labs have been seen to take up hydrophobic contaminants from plastic particles (see note below).
• Read papers carefully, just because they allude to a link between an organism and microplastic, doesn't mean they found it!
• The French serve excellent conference food (3 course lunches every day!)
• Natalie is job hunting. Seriously - I worked that into every talk

A few thing in particular stood out for me:

• In the world of hydrophobic contaminants, the microsphere is currently king (as is the massively unreasonable concentration of contaminant). While these experiments are an indicator of possibility, they are in no way relevant to the high variability of size, shape, and surface area to volume ratio observed in plastics recovered from the marine environment. We also have residence times for very few species, therefore the length of exposure is pure supposition. These studies should be viewed with caution.
• The increasing level of research being carried out in rivers is encouraging. Mapping the route of plastic is the only sure way to attribute accountability. Until we do this, any contamination will be passed of as someone else's problem, and we will be unable to put financial pressure on major contributors.
• I am still all for the idea of trophic accumulation of microplastics, but believe this occurs through the ingestion of animals which are retaining plastics within the gut. I have yet to be convinced of microplastic translocation from gut to tissues.
• Four filled crepes is my limit.

In other news, I got no birding time in, aside from glimpsing a white wagtail on my way through Brest.

The Eider are a Woooo-ing

Nothing says new year like wooing eider. I've managed to get out of the flat 3 time this year, and each time they've been there waiting for me. With some lovely friends. New year's day bought sightings of both red throated and great northern divers and, surprisingly, large numbers of razorbills and guillemots. Again today, there were a pair of RT divers (one a real corker) and eight or nine little groups of razorbills and 'mots.

I'm used to seeing the oddly patterned black guillemots in their higgledy-piggledy winter plumage, but seeing large numbers of other auks so close is a sign of all this bad weather we've been having. We've also had a trio of barnacle geese (not common on the island) in with the greylags. One with a black forehead and darker belly (anyone got any ideas on the cross?).

One thing I haven't seen this year is a wren, I've been keeping an eye on the garden, but so far nothing, none of Farland point either. Not a hint of the scolding chur. I'll keep you in the loop. Not much to report on the feeders, usual hungry winter mix. Getting greenfinches regularly at the moment though.

In other news, the next report of NB will be fresh from the Mirco2014 conference in Brest.

Hope everyone had a great holiday, despite the storms.

Island Hopping: Rathlin, Ireland, Iceland, Anglesey and home to Cumbrae

Posts have been a little sparse lately; it’s been a busy few months. The cruise to Ireland with the RYA was great, brilliant people, and good sightings of both minke whales and basking shark by a number of boats. I even managed to manage some decent bird sightings too, all the usual suspects, as well as sightings of both storm petrel and Leach’s storm petrel, and two beautiful sooty shearwaters off the Mull. On Rathlin we had a very hung-over visit to the seabird colony, and on a quiet walk the next morning I got great views of chough over the bay.  Everywhere we went, we were made very welcome. They rolled out a mayor, a band and a bottle or three at every stop. I've never eaten and drank so much while doing so little. 

Would you trust your life to these nutters?

"A full adult portion" - and I didn't hurl once!

Iceland was incredible, a truly amazing place. Both the landscape, and the welcoming people made it an excellent trip. Reykjavik was a brilliant base, and my trusty X-trail enabled us to get out and take in the wonderful coastline as well as the fantatstic volcanic island interior. Highlights included red necked phalarope, gyr falcon, glaucus and Iceland gulls, white beaked dolphin, Barrow’s golden eye, the northern lights and three amazing burger joints which features such delicacies as a "Big Kahuna Burger" (comes with a $5 shake), the "Bunny Lebowski" (at the Lebowski bar - they have a full white Russian menu), and the brilliant "Kevin Bacon Burger". Matt and I have already decided to go back next year. 

Vanishing White Beaked Dolphins

The joining of the North America and Eurasian plates

Last month I gave a talk to Bangor Bird Group, and had a lovely couple of days in north Wales. Whilst there I was given two tours by the great guys from NatureBites. Ther first, split into two parts: a morning exploring beautiful Anglesey - providing plenty of waders, attracting a  few raptors, and good numbers of duck, including pintail - and an afternoon seawatching -turning up gannets and auks galore as well as plenty of divers and Manx and a Balearic shearwater. The second trip, a morning looking for rarities with Ken (Katthy was at a conference), when I was treated to sightings of Lapland bunting, dotterel, glossy ibis, and more chough. 

Ken, the Bird Man, and me in my golden plover hat

Scoped Glossy Ibis

I've even had a couple of lucky local spots. Off island I managed to pick up  garganey and ringneck duck, and, on my last boat trip on Aora, we were fortunate enough to see a humpback whale - my first ever - breaching in the Arran Deep. But the fun’s over for now, I'm back on island now for the final push to finish my PhD. I’ll still be sneaking out at the weekend for walks when I can, hoping for some odd geese mixed in with the graylags, or a rogue scoter or two – anything to keep me sane.

Sanity, however, will be thin on the ground. The lab is closed until next year, when it will open up as a shiny new Field Studies Council centre, and there are only 5 of us in the building – all running on different schedules. It’s often just me, my prawns, and my laptop. It’s quiet, and a little lonely, and wonderfully conducive for work… I hate it. With the winter coming on, and the birds leaving, it feels a bit like everything has left me behind. Plus, with out all the bodies in the building, its freezing. I'm counting the days down – even though it’s a little terrifying. 37 days, including Christmas, to finish my final chapter. Then its write, write, write. So, unless there's a mega in the area, I'm signing off for now. Wish me luck, I might just need it!