"PELAGIC"

"Of or relating to the open sea" - Collins dictionary definition. Does a few miles off Flamborough Head on the Yorkshire Belle qualify? Well, it was good fun anyway. The recent easterly storm might have been expected to leave a few interesting birds in the North Sea, even though a westerly was blowing. However, it wasn't to be. A distant flock of Common Scoter, and about 16 Manx Shearwater were the highlights. Someone reported a Sooty Shearwater, and a Black Tern, but neither were announced over the tannoy, so I didn't see them. Chrys Mellor was throwing plenty of "chum" over the stern, which only attracted a multitude of Herring and Greater Black-backer Gulls. Skuas were remarkable by their complete absence. A few Manxies came within shooting distance, but even with a 500mm lens on a 1D Mk IV, it was pushing it a bit. The only compensation was the light, which remained good throughout the three and a half hour trip. If you want gull photos, this trip is for you (courtesy of the RSPB).

Juvenile Greater Black-backed Gulls (Larus marinus).

Manx Shearwater (Puffinus puffinus).

NORTHUMBERLAND

Just had a few days on the Northumberland Coast, staying near Holy Island. I've good memories of birding there in my youth, so it was nice to have a chance to re-visit some sites and find some new ones. The wind was westerly at first, and Holy Island was quiet, but then all hell broke loose with the intense depression causing heavy rain and strong easterlies for a couple of days. I visited Hauxley where the sea was pretty rough. Three Bonxies and two Arctic Skuas in about five minutes, with plenty of gannets and Auks constituted a brief seawatch. An adult Little Gull was on the main pool, and a nice male Common Redstart was skulking in the undergrowth keeping out of the gale. Cresswell and Druridge were quiet. On Holy Island there had been a moderate fall of migrants, with Redstarts, Spotted and Pied Flycatchers, Robins and Song Thrushes in good numbers. Rarities included Wryneck, Red-breasted Flycatcher, Hawfinch and Yellow-browed Warbler, none of which I saw. Staking out an Arctic Warbler at the Lindisfarne Hotel proved fruitless the first time, but next day (after a cloudy night), it was still there, and good views were had by several birders. I got one or two poor photos of it.

Arctic Warbler (Phylloscopus borealis).

The whole coast is good. Bar-tailed Godwits were the commonest wader, and there were plenty of Curlew, Golden and Grey Plover, Knot, Dunlin, and even a few Sanderling. Three Short-eared Owls circling together overhead on Holy Island was a bonus, as was an Osprey perched on one of the posts along the old pilgrims causeway.

Redstart (Phoenicurus phoenicurus).

Spotted Flycatcher (Muscicapa striata).

Pale-bellied Brent Geese (Branta bernicla).

Curlew (Numenius arquata).

I've always found Curlew difficult to photograph, but on a rising tide at Budle Bay, it's possible to park your car by the estuary edge and get quite close without disturbing them, using the car as a hide.

All photos were taken with a Canon EOS 7D and Canon 500mm F4 EF IS lens.

IT PAYS TO HANG AROUND

I went to Filey Dams this morning, in the off chance of a few waders being present. The light was reasonable - high cloud and bright, but no sun. Having explored the view from both hides, I was disappointed to find there were no waders at all - not even a Lapwing. It started spotting with rain, so I thought I would call it a day (at 9-30 a.m.)! On returning to the car-park I decided to have a last look in the main hide. A Greenshank had dropped in, but was distant, so I stayed in the hope it would come within range. It did, shortly followed by another one, then a Green Sandpiper, a Common Sandpiper, another Green Sand., and a single Black-tailed Godwit (which stayed behind the bund, out of sight). This group of waders performed well in front of the hide, when they weren't being chased by Moorhens, and I rapidly filled two memory cards and flattened a battery. Some of the images follow. It goes to show one shouldn't be too eager to throw in the towel.


Common Sandpiper (Tringa hypoleucos). Canon EOS 1D MkIV, 500mm F4 + 1.4X converter.

Green Sandpiper (Tringa ochropus). Equipment as above.

Greenshank (Tringa nebularia). As above with 2X converter. A consummate wader - one of my favourites.

Greenshank preening.  Equipment as above.

Greenshanks: the next four images were taken with the 1.4X converter. The pair stayed together most of the time, but occasionally had a go at each other if they got too close.

A WATERY DIVERSION

With the appalling weather lately, and it being breeding season, the bird photography has taken a back seat. There haven't been many insects to chase either, so I had a dabble in the garden pond, which certainly has plenty of water in it. It's full of tadpoles that don't seem to be developing beyond the two-legged stage, and there are some newts as well. I had a dredge around with a net to see what was lurking, and then tried a bit of dark-field macro photography on the results. This involves placing semi-opaque or translucent subjects on a glass stage over a black background, and lighting from below at 45 degrees from the camera axis. In theory, one gets an image with a pure black background and light shining through the subject. It's not as easy as it sounds. The water has to be spotlessly clean, as all the detritus shows up as bright spots, so you spend an inordinate amount of time cloning-out the unwanted bits, but the end result can be quite nice. One of the problems is that unless you are an expert on freshwater life, you don't know what you are photographing, but it's fun!

Newt sp. elt: this is a very small one - about 5mm long.

Here's one a bit older - the gills are obvious, and in contradistinction to frog tadpoles, the forelimbs develop first. The hindlimb buds are seen as bulges further down the body.

Combining the dark-field illumination with a little fill light from above brings out more detail.

Crustacean sp.  I've no idea what these tiny shrimps are called. The larger one is about 7mm long. I'll have to buy a book!

Water Beetle (possibly Family Dytiscidae). Solid subjects give a rim effect.

But with a little fill light from above, become more life-like, but it shows the dirt more. I like to think of this as the "Starship Coleoptera".

All the images were taken with a Canon EOS 7D, 50mm F2.5 macro lens with 25mm extension tube linked to an old Sunpack ring flash that's been cluttering up my cupboard for years. Even if you get accused of hoarding, never throw anything away!

None of the animals were harmed by this activity, and went straight back in the pond.

RINGING

I'm not a ringer, but have the greatest admiration for those who are, and try to see what they are up to when time allows. If you've read any of Gilbert White's "Natural History of Selbourne", you'll know that in the late 1700's, it wasn't known whether birds left our shores for winter, or actually hibernated here in cracks and crevices. The matter was only truly resolved when we started ringing, and the contribution to our understanding of bird ecology by ringers has been massive, especially in relation to mapping migration routes and preserving habitat. With climate change, it's just as important today, but as satellite tags get smaller and lighter, it may become less so in future. Two late night sessions recently have produced results.

Petrel ringing involves enduring a cacophony of a tape-recording of the bird's breeding colony, projected through a loudspeaker out to sea, to attract birds feeding offshore into a mist net. It's a technique of hit and miss with low returns - one or two birds in a three hour overnight session is a good catch, but it allows close inspection of these delicate little seabirds. Storm Petrel (Hydrobates pelagicus) is the commonest catch, but an occasional Leach's Petrel (Oceanodroma leucrrhoa) turns up in the net. One always lives in hope of something rarer.


Storm Petrel.

This image was taken with a Canon EOS 7D with 24-105mm F4 zoom, and built-in flash. It's always a bit hit and miss in the dark - the bill isn't sharp.

Nightjar (Caprimulgus europaeus) ringing in Langdale Forest isn't too dissimilar - nets set at dusk and a tape of the birds churring, and a patient wait fending off the dreaded midges. Again, a single bird may represent a successful night, but at least the vigil isn't as long, usually being over by midnight. Inspection of the bird in hand reveals it's superb cryptic plumage, and a small "comb" on it's middle toe, which is used to clean insect debris from the ictal bristles round the base of the bill. 

Nightjar.

The bird is a second year male, as it only has two white spots on it's primary wing feathers. The images were taken as for the Stormy above.

PILGRIMAGE

Made my annual pilgrimage to Bempton a couple of days ago, when the sun was actually shining (on and off). I thought breeding might be delayed because of the bad weather, but many of the auk chicks had already baled out of the nest, so there weren't too many adults flying about, which, in combination of my ever deteriorating reflexes, meant no successful flight shots. I usually go in the afternoon so the sun is behind me, which is good for flight, but no good for the cliffs themselves. Hazy sun in the morning is best for birds on the cliffs, but contrast can still be a problem. It's a good place to practise flight photography, though.


Some chicks were still in the nest on the one bit of the cliff that remains sunny in the early afternoon.

Here are a couple of flight shots from last year. It's interesting to note that several Guillemots (Uria aalge) have holes in the webs of their feet - some with signs of fresh blood. I wonder if pecking your neighbour's feet is a means of keeping a respectable distance apart on the ledge.

When I first visited Bempton as a teenager, there were 6 pairs of Gannets. Now look at 'em..............!

REFLECTIONS

Weather still very variable, so an opportunity to do a bit of file sorting and cataloguing. I came across an image of Kentish Plover (Charadrius alexandrinus) taken at Gruissan in the south of France (the French call it Gravelot a collier interrompu - typical!). It shows a nice reflection in the clear, clean, still water. Positioning the junction of legs and water somewhere near the middle of the picture balances the reflection and bird nicely creating a more or less symmetrical arrangement. You do need good light and still water for this type of reflection. The other type of reflection involves light from other objects reflecting colours off the water and occurs typically in harbours and marinas where coloured walls and boats are behind the bird. They can have some quite striking effects, and shouldn't be ignored. The water doesn't need to be flat calm for this effect, with ripples causing some interesting effects.


Kentish Plover (Charadrius alexandrinus): Gruissan, France. If only the North Sea was this blue!

Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo): Scarborough Harbour. The brown reflection compliments the brown centres of the feathers.

Coot (Fulica atra): Scarborough Harbour. The yellow reflection brightens up the otherwise rather uninteresting bird.

Coot (Fulica atra): Scarborough Harbour. Or you can use the reflection from the blue sky (if there is one!).

All images taken with a Canon EOS 1D Mk111 and 500mm F4 lens.