Saturday 19th May "Happy Island", Hebei province
I first came to Happy Island in 1994.
In those days, there was a real chance that the tide would be "wrong" and that the boat would struggle to dock here on what was one of the wildest places in this part of the country.
But at least you knew where you were.
These days, "Happy Island" is suffering a crisis of identity.
Is it a bird sanctuary? A golf resort? A retreat for high-ranking party officials? A day-trippers paradise? A construction site? Or soon-to-be the site of China's largest off-shore windfarm?
windfarm report here:
http://europe.chinadaily.com.cn/business/2012-01/14/content_14446298.htm
The crisis of identity is very much reflected in Happy Island's name.
Or, to be precise, its three "official" names.
To confuse things further, "Happy Island" (
Kuaile Dao in Chinese) is not one of them.
The three names are Puti Dao (Dao = island) Shijiu Tuo (Tuo - island), and Bodhi Island.
Remarkably, despite the confusion, and despite the incredible development on the island ("Buddhist" temples and a soon-to-be-completed ring-road accounting for a large part of the investment), the area that would be attractive to a passing bird remains large and inviting.
I arrived on the island at about 3pm, and quickly made for the Temple woods.
The site of some incredible birds over the years, Temple woods had decided to take a breather.
The wind had been southerly all day, and the sky was clear, so presumably just about everything on the move had decided to keep going, in a northerly direction.
In fact, my local patch by the Wenyu River in Beijing would have been far more productive...
After two hours of walking and seeing bugger all, I lamented that Unhappy Island was a more-fitting 5th name for it (Earlier that day I had re-christened the "Magic Wood" near the embarkation point to "Unhappy Island" as the "Tragic Wood" because of the destruction there and the dearth of birds)
But most clouds tend to have a silver lining...
30 mins before dark - as I was supping a pint of Boddingtons on the roof terrace - I heard the unmistakable notes of a flock of Little Whimbrel.
Putting my glass down, and lifting up my field glasses, I watched the magical site of c30 of them passing overhead.
Things weren't that bad I mused.
I poured myself another pint of Bodds and sat back to watch the Sun's golden orb melt into the distant clouds that hovered above the horizon.
What would tomorrow bring, I wondered.
Shi Jin