10 March. The Nemuro Peninsula.
Overnight rain had stopped by dawn, but in its place dark leaden skies and a humongous wind whipping in off the Pacific. With thoughts of potential seawatching, and hopes of a Red-faced Cormorant, my first destination for the day was Ochiishi-misaki, a lighthouse a few kilometres south of Ochiishi town and, critically for the weather, situated on a south-facing headland. The direct route to this point requires a walk of about a kilometre through pine forest, but with snow piled up rather deeply in the cover of the forest, I had to take the longer more circular route across the windswept headland – and with temperatures near zero and a chill blast ripping through, it was not exactly the most pleasant of ambles! Lots of Sika Deer however and fortunately the roofed shelter of the lighthouse provided a little haven to watch the sea (this, as I was to find out the next day, would not be applicable for winds with a westerly bite). Still, there I was, recovering somewhat from the battering that the elements had just thrown at me, when I did my first scan of the sea. Glorious it was, Harlequins and Black Scoters riding the considerable surf, a flock of Long-tailed Ducks battling to make headway against the wind, a lone Red-necked Grebe bobbing up and down. Of even more interest however, funnelling through the great troughs in the turbulent sea, a light but steady passage of birds moving east – Ancient Murrelets in the main, small flocks passing every now and then, perhaps 60 birds or so over a couple of hours. Also six Brunnich’s Guillemots, three Spectacled Guillemots, three Least Auklets and a minimum of 16 Pacific Divers and three Red-throated Divers, several more distant divers remaining unidentified. Punctuated by regular eye-to-eyes with passing Steller’s Sea Eagles and White-tailed Eagles, both hanging in the wind just metres away at the cliff edge, it truly made for a stunning seawatch! Also Slaty-backed Gulls and Glaucous Gulls drifting by almost continuously, a pod of nine Black-necked Grebes on the sea and no shortage of Pelagic Cormorants. Scan and squint as much as I could however, not a hint of a Red-faced Cormorant did I find!
Given the prevailing south-easterlies, I thought seawatching off Nossapa-misaki might be even better, so at about 10 a.m., I again struck out from cover and made a bolt for the car, a rather speedier return with the wind directly behind me! One Peregrine scooted by. A quick stop at Ochiishi Bay was rewarded with mass ranks of Black Scoters and 12 White-winged Scoters, plus a lot of Glaucous Gulls. Then I drove to Nossapa-misaki. Hmm, the wind was absolutely battering the headland – the seawatching hide was (probably rather wisely) locked and so I angled my car to watch the bay as well as I could. What a change from the day before, the sea ice had been pushed far to the north and in its place a maelstrom of unfriendly looking waters. My car was rocking back and fro and I wondered for a while whether it might actually tip over. A flag pole that the day before had had a Japanese flag proudly flapping away, a symbol against the Russian-occupied Kuril Islands just offshore, was now bare – torn little withers all that was left, this was a mighty wind indeed! Needless to say, I didn’t see very much and in an hour or so, I successfully managed to identify just one Ancient Murrelet, four Spectacled Guillemots and one Crested Auklet! A pair of Smew also flew past.
By early afternoon, heavy rain joined the cocktail, so I hightailed it out and embarked on the 160 km drive to Rasau, conditions worsening steadily as I progressed north, finally the rain turning to snow and beginning to accumulate. Arriving at Washinoyado, the locality famous for Blakiston’s Fish Owl, the adjacent sea was solid pack ice, snow was piled two metres deep along the roads from earlier falls and a considerable fresh carpet was adding to it! I seriously wondered (a) what chance there would be of seeing an owl in such conditions and (b) would I be able to get out again? However, the owner of the owl area had the answer – I couldn’t stay! With the forecast promising the road blocked by morning, I had to leave. No owls! Well, that was a bit of a spanner in the works, Washinoyado is the key site for Blakiston’s Fish Owl, the birds come to take strategically placed fish and are near guaranteed! Or usually so, clearly not on this day! It was now getting dark, but with no better plan I decided to drive all the way back to the Nemuro Peninsula. And what a drive it was! Some dodgy moments in the snow early on, but it wasn’t the wind and snow, later switching back to rain, that worried me so much, but the mighty waves crashing in from the sea – for long stretches the road runs parallel to the coast and howling great waves were smashing down on my car with regularity, each time reducing visibility to zero and pushing the car shudderingly to the side. Phew, I was rather relieved when I eventually got back to the Nemuro Peninsula! Finding a sheltered spot, I rolled the car seat back and called it a day, one Red Fox trotted past.