MEGA ALERT: The YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO in Cornwall

After the remnants of hurricane Gonzalo hit the west of Britain earlier in the week, it was inevitable that we would receive a few transatlantic treats to keep us birders occupied. As I sat there in the office on Thursday, the battery on my pager was nearly drained within one afternoon. The day before, a FORSTER'S TERN had passed Pendeen Watch in Cornwall, one of Britain's prime sea-watching spots and a place I had been just a few days before. Scotland then hit back with a HERMIT THRUSH on North Uist. It was the day after though when it all finally started to kick off big time.

For starters, a GREY-CHEEKED THRUSH was located on Barra, an Hebridean island that had already hosted a SCARLET TANAGER earlier in the month. The south-west of England then chipped in with a YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO in Cornwall, only for the north to go one better with a BLACK-BILLED CUCKOO on North Ronaldsay. It was all getting very exciting indeed. News then filtered through of a CHIMNEY SWIFT on the Isle of Lewis in the Western Isles followed by the second GREY-CHEEKED THRUSH of the day in Orkney, again on North Ronaldsay.

My gaffer at work had already heard the wail of the MEGA alert several times that afternoon. At one stage he looked up at me with his eyebrows raised and quietly enquired whether I was going to be off the next day. There was certainly a strong possibility that I would be, I sheepishly replied.

YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO (first-winter) - Porthgwarra, Cornwall.
Photo by Pete Morris

With a backlog of work completed and my holiday approved, it was time to start making arrangements for the long trip down to Cornwall. After careful consideration I thought it best if we got on site for first light. It was a huge gamble to make the three hundred mile journey rather then wait for positive news and then head off, but what a stressful five hour car journey that would be. In any case, if there was no sign of the YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO we could still have a good mooch around and attempt to find our own American vagrant in one of the famous Cornish valleys.

After a few hours sleep, I picked up Martin Smyth at 1.30am and headed down to Worcestershire to meet up with Jase Oliver and Steve Allcott for the onward journey down the M5. Within a few hours we had hit Exeter Services. Predictably, there were other weary-eyed birders in situ, sipping away at over-priced coffee in order to stimulate their exhausted senses into staying awake for a few more hours. Amongst the group was the infamous Garry Bagnell who regaled us with tales of woe surrounding booked-up charter flights, younger twitching rivals and the heartbreak of loitering around Aberdeen airport in anticipation of a SIBERIAN THRUSH being relocated on Shetland. 

The YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO twitch at Porthgwarra.
Photo by Adam Archer

We finally arrived at the extreme south-western tip of England sometime around 6.30am. It was cool, dark and extremely quiet down in the cove of Porthgwarra, with a mist rolling in off the sea adding to the eerie atmosphere. With other dishevelled looking birders arriving on site and slowly climbing from their vehicles and stretching their tired limbs, it was reminiscent of a scene from the eighties horror classic 'The Fog'. As the light improved and the mist turned into rain though, it was time to make a move and do our best to relocate our target bird.

As all you experienced birders will know, the YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO is a bitter sweet species to see on this side of the Atlantic. It is a rarity that has never really been easy to successfully twitch, based on the fact that the majority of them probably expire within a few days of making landfall in Europe. The last bird that was truly 'twitchable' in Britain was fourteen years ago in the neighbouring valley of St Levan just a few miles east of Porthgwarra. Since then, there have been just five accepted records in Britain and tragically, three of those involve dead or dying birds.

With such statistics to dwell on whilst standing in the rain for a rarity to show, it is sometimes a struggle to remain positive. Personally for me though it was still a great privilege to be positioned in one of my favourite places in the whole world, breathing in the fresh sea air and watching Chough rising and tumbling above the grand cliff tops. Finally though, after a long ninety minute wait, a few excited whispers were heard to the right of where we were standing. I looked across to see a birder pointing towards the mass of willows just in front of where he was stood. Within seconds the whole crowd had descended upon those two excited fellows and after some scrabbled directions I caught my first glimpse of my first ever YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO in Britain. Against the odds it had survived through the night and even better still, it seemed to be in good health!

YELLOW-BILLED CUCKOO (first-winter) - Porthgwarra, Cornwall.
Photo by Pete Morris

Initially this handsome bird was quiet elusive as it remained low down feeding amongst the dense vegetation. Eventually though, as the weather conditions improved it showed extremely well at times, often perched up in the same position for several minutes at a time. During the few hours we spent enjoying the bird, it was seen to catch and eat a few prey items including bush-crickets and caterpillars. At this rate it looked good for those birders who were unable to make the trip until the weekend. Other species of note included 6 Swallow passing through, a few Common Buzzard, a hunting Sparrowhawk, a Great Spotted Woodpecker and a few European Stonechat.

As another dense carpet of fog rolled in, we then decided to head back to the car and plan our next move for the day. It was here that we celebrated with a dram of single malt whiskey courtesy of our fellow West Midland birders from Coventry and a hot pasty from the nearby cafe. It was yet another stunning rarity in a superb location with some top notch company to share the memorable moments with. It really does not get any better than this.

The notice board at the excellent  Porthgwarra cafe!
Photo by Adam Archer

Afterwards, we then made our way over to the north coast and the beautiful Nanquidno valley. Despite a thorough search of the area we could do no better than a male Blackcap, a single Chiffchaff, a few Goldcrest and a Grey Wagtail. On the way back up the A30 we made a quick detour over to Hayle where a juvenile LESSER YELLOWLEGS performed well as it fed in the company of the Common Redshank around Copperhouse Creek. Also in attendance were a few Little Egret, the odd Curlew and 7 Dunlin.

LESSER YELLOWLEGS (juvenile) - Hayle, Cornwall.
Photo by Adam Archer

It had been a great day all round, full of laughs, dramatic scenery, the odd decent bird and another step closer to my personal target of five hundred species before I snuff it..... like an unfortunate American cuckoo!

Shetland Trip 2014 - The Beginning!

Let me begin this blog by thanking that rotten bunch of ruffians, the CLAMS for taking pity on a poor, lonely ASBO and adopting me for this trip. As some of you will know I suffer from a rare birding behaviour disorder that leads me to occasionally take the p*ss and get up to the odd bit of mischief. I admit that I am not the easiest person to spend a week with..... just ask Nadia. I must also thank the 55.3% of Scottish folk who voted 'No' to independence. If the vote to quit Great Britain had been a 'Yes' then I would have flicked a non-victorious 'V sign' to them all and headed down to the Isles of Scilly instead.

Anyway, we touched down at Sumburgh airport just after 11.00am following a trouble free flight from Birmingham, via Aberdeen. As we disembarked and staggered across the runway it was a real struggle to stand up in the westerly gusts. You could almost smell that rare American vagrant in the air if you tipped you head back slightly and aimed your rictal bristles in the direction of the Atlantic Ocean.

As we had to wait for Gary Prescott to arrive later in the day, we decided to lob out the bins and do a bit of birding in the South Mainland rather than head straight up to our digs in Lerwick. The first port of call was the Sumburgh Farm area. The strong winds meant that any passerine with any sense would be laying low in what sheltered corner they could find. We did however find our first flock of 22 Twite feeding around Sumburgh Hotel and drinking from the puddles in the car park. This a species of finch well equipped for whatever weather conditions Shetland can throw at it.

In the pasture around the hotel, a Ruff was a nice surprise and a dozen Common Snipe were flushed. In a nearby stubble field there were 6 Lapwing, good numbers of Skylark and a scattering of Blackbirds and Meadow Pipits.

Twite - Sumburgh Hotel, Mainland, Shetland.
Photo by Adam Archer

We then made our way over to Grutness to scour the small mixed flock of waders along the beach. A juvenile Little Stint was nice to see amongst the 40 Dunlin, 10 Sanderling and 8 Turnstone. There was also a smart male White Wagtail feeding along the tideline together with a few Pied Wagtails and the odd Rock Pipit. The first Great Skuas of the trip were also spotted harassing Gannets feeding out in the bay.

The lads hecking out the waders at Grutness, Mainland, Shetland.
Photo by Adam Archer

We then received a call from 'The Biking Birder' to say he had arrived. Gary had flown in just hours after returning from a three month trek around Peru where he had seen some cracking South American speciality species, was robbed at gun point and had made acquaintances with the odd beautiful senorita or two.... the dirty, old rogue.

After bundling Gary into the back of our Kia 'birder carrier', and placing him in quarantine for a few minutes because he still smelt of Llamas, we arrived up at Channerwick. Some of the lads spotted the flicker of a Red-breasted Flycatcher in the large sycamore around the ruined cottage but due to the stiff breeze it failed to show well. The only other migrant of note was a male Blackcap and a single Northern Wheatear. It was even worse up at Sandwick with just a flock of 42 European Golden Plover for us to have scan through.

Before heading into Lerwick to find our accommodation we had a quick look around the Loch of Clickimin and the adjacent suburbs. With only a pair of Whooper Swan, a flock of Tufted Ducks and a few more Blackbirds to show for our troubles we decided to call it a day and head for shelter.

For all those of you who think Shetland is a stroll in the park and where Siberian vagrants drip from the bare branches of every stunted sycamore then think again..... welcome to a typical autumn day in Zetlandica.