Orkney - A flying visit… (1 Viewer)

[Mark Lew1s]

Thursday 26th September

With my family increasing in size this year, a long time ago I said to my usual autumn Sanday companions that I’d be sitting this years trip out. Some things are more important, after all. However, with my nearest and dearest in the midst of a long trip to France, and with a promising looking forecast, I made a few last minute enquiries and the next thing I knew I was on the North Isles ferry on the evening of Thursday September 26th.

It was a rather uneventful crossing, made a little livelier by a decent number of arctic skuas past the boat, along with the odd great skua and manxy. Most folk on the ferry pass the time in the bar, and as tempting as it was, I had an early start with Paul Higson the following day, hitting some of the sites in the south of South Ronaldsay before meeting up with the rest of the Sanday Ladyboys and checking out some spots in east mainland. We figured this would be a decent barometer for things to come on Sanday after a spell of south easterly winds. We were not wrong…

Friday 27th September

Paul H came to meet me in Kirkwall at 06:30 with an air of optimism and a packed lunch that would have kept me going several times over. I think the toffee yum-yum took me over the days calorie guidelines all by itself! We headed to Burwick at the bottom end of South Ronaldsay to kick off, before working our way around some promising looking sites in the southern half of the island. Burwick was quiet, but the gardens around Cleat soon delivered, with a few yellow-browed warblers and a redstart, as well as some other migrants such as blackcap, and robins and dunnocks that are not-resident. Feeling that things might be going our way, we moved on to the next stop with a spring in our step. Our next port of call was a large and unbirdable garden, thick with impenetrable cover, so we adopted the old sit and wait technique and soon had chiffchaff feeding around the periphery and several song thrush spilling out of the trees. A tree pipit put in an appearance (an uncommon bird on Orkney) and then a red-breasted flycatcher hopped out onto a sheltered limb and put on a fine show, flycatching from twigs and the fence, showing its tail pattern and snapping audibly at insects before vanishing back into the cover.

From here we hit the old navigation academy and our run of good fortune continued. In the gardens here we had garden, willow and yellow-browed warbler, a really good candidate for a siberian/eastern lesser whitethroat, and a ring ouzel hurtled out of the bushes. Olafs wood held three more yellow-browed warbler, another ring ouzel and the odd redwing, and then we headed off to another bit of cover where there was yet another yellow-browed. All around there were pipits and skylarks on the move, and song thrushes were all over the place. This was classic northern isles Autumn birding, and it was great fun.

As we pressed further north we realised that the bulk of the action was back in the south of the island so we headed back down and reexamined some of the previous sites again. We didn’t add anything else new, but it did feel that things were beginning to get quieter. It was getting close to the time to meet the rest of the gang from the ferry, so Paul dropped me off in St Margaret’s Hope (nabbing a little gull from the car on the way - another rare bird in Orkney) and fittingly, finishing off with our last yellow-browed warbler at the golf course in the Hope.

Once the guys were off the ferry we split up into two cars and headed out east. One car went to some more spots on South Ron, where they picked up another red-breasted flycatcher, among other things, and I went up to check a few sites around Deerness. The East Denwick plantation was out of bounds as there was some ringing going on, so we had a go at the brilliant looking patch at Sandside bay. Here there were redstartand lesser whitethroat among the commoner migrants, and we finished the day at ‘lighthouse corner’ where we added another each of yellow-browed, willow warbler and lesser whitethroat.

Over pizza in the evening there was a lot of talk of the week ahead. I only had a few days on Sanday but lit looked like it was going to be very calm for the weekend, and a calm day is a rare commodity in Orkney. We were hopeful.

 

[JWN Andrewes]

Was wondering just the other day if this thread would be running this year. Glad to see it is, and hope you had a good time.

 

[Richard Prior]

Looking forward to a good read as always - and congratulations on the family ‘increase in size’ :t:

 

[Mark Lew1s]

Thanks both - just a few days this time unfortuantely - but two weeks on Ouessant coming up...

 

[Mark Lew1s]

Saturday 28th September

We were on the Sanday ferry first thing, and on arriving on the island at about half eight, headed straight over to Stove, an old model farm with associated gardens. It’s one of the best bits on the island for migrants, but being in the far south west of quite a big island, we probably don’t cover it enough. This morning it was full of robins (we sometimes go a whole week without seeing robin on Sanday…) with a few phylloscs that included the expected yellow-browed warbler. Stonechats called from the wires, and goldcrests from the bushes. It looked like we’d timed it perfectly. With time in mind we zoomed up to our accommodation at the far north end to get the shopping into the house (a whinchat along the fence line here, and a hen harrier en route) before carrying on our efforts.

Before lunch I filled the time by walking the Roos road, which offers marshy and loch habitats, a lot of open country, and a few gardens here and there. A ruff shared a roadside puddle with some redshank, and redwings seeeeped overhead, interrupted by a flock of 45 pink-footed geese moving through. The fenceposts, walls and gardens were great for migrants. Wheatear were numerous, and along the way redstart and two whinchat were noted. in the gardens were three different yellow-brows, along with other warblers including a lesser whitethroat. The wetlands were disappointing - the marsh, once such a reliable site, did not have a single bird on it, and the loch had only large numbers of greylag geese and a few wigeon to share.

In the afternoon, while everyone headed out to the east end of the island, by far the most productive area for rarities, I took a punt on the long walk out to Tres ness. This long sand spit has bags of potential for migrants but it’s a long walk in and the phone reception is dreadful - so if someone else finds something good while you’re there, you’ll either never know, or will have a loooong march on your hands. Luckily the long march passes the Cata sand, which is an excellent area for waders. As the tide rose, I noted 670 bar-tailed godwits and 39 grey plovers - both very respectable counts for Orkney. Overhead, a single snow bunting and a group of 38 barnacle geese passing over added to a very bird scene.

At the house at the end of the sand spit, 43 twite gathered on the wires and the weedy corners, walls, and nettle and docken beds hosted yet more migrant passerines. Among the more usual stuff were lesser whitethroat, whinchat, three redstart, a sweeoo calling chiffchaff(of interest to absolutely no-one but me), and a tree pipit. In spite of the lack of rare or scarce birds it was all good fun, and I hiked back over to Lady village to see what that could add to my total. The gardens here returned three more yellow-brows among the willows and chiffs, and yet another lesser whitethroat. It was here the my phone decided it was going to find some reception.

While I thought I’d been having a nice time, the east team had definitely done a little better, finding olive-backed pipit and hoopoe between them! There was little daylight left and as there was a bit of twitching going on (hoopoe was an island tick for us) I decided I might as well start the long walk home, noting hen harrier and 14 barnacle geese along the way. We finished an excellent first day with fish and chips and a couple of beers, and added American golden plover (a long staying bird) and a scattering of snow and Lapland buntings to the days total.

 

[Ian Bell]

Fantastic reading as always Mark and congratulations on the family front. :t:

 

[rollingthunder]

Nice little trip to a place with the ‘never know’ factor:eek!:

I visited once, albeit briefly, i remember using the only tidal-flushed public toilets in the UK - a tick of sorts i suppose as they have now been ‘modernised’ from what i have heard (EU diktat)...

Laurie -

 

[Mark Lew1s]

Sunday 29th September

Another calm day, which means an awful lot when looking for (and listening for) interesting birds in the Northern Isles in September. The migrants started as soon as we stepped outside, with a tree pipit over the house, and some redwings calling. Today I decided that I wasn’t going to miss out on the goodies out east, and so I started out in the Lopness area, just about as far east as you can go on the island without getting your feet wet. It was quiet to begin with. The weedy shorelines, ditches and stubble fields seemed pretty hard work, with only a couple of Lapland and snow buntings to show, and a peregrine overhead. In fact, I was doing a lot better for dead cetaceans, first noting the recently deceased minke whale that one of our gang found the previous day, before stumbling into a rather mouldy white-beaked dolphin some way up the shingle. I’ll spare you the photos of that…

On then to the road that runs round North Loch, perhaps my favourite part of the island. Wildfowl, raptors, golden plover flocks and migrants everywhere. In the first garden, practically the first bird I saw was a barred warbler, which showed briefly after I accidentally flushed if from a nettle bed. Also here were redwing and fieldfare, three chiffchaff, two redstart, and a merlin buzzed over the nearby marsh. I moved on past Loch of Rhummie, which had three whooper swans, and some real Sanday quality in the form of two little grebes and a handful of coot, before arriving at the gallery, at Lettan. This is the biggest, thickest bit of cover at the east end and while undoubtedly good for birds, it’s less good for birders. However, the way I see it, while you’ll never see everything that’s there, you’ll probably see some of the stuff that’s there, and that makes it worth a go. It was definitely worth a go this time. Yet more redstarts, three each of willow warbler and chiffchaff, and lurking with them, a yellow-browed warbler. Moving with these birds was something else though, giving a soft ‘tak’ call from deep into the bushes, that occasionally came out as a rattling ‘trrt’. I crawled under the nearest bushes and looked towards the sound, where I came eye to eye with what I expected - a red-breasted flycatcher that proceeded to snap away at insects about two metres away from my face. From the calm of the middle of the bush I could hear redwings and a couple of Lapland buntings overhead, and it dawned on me that I was having a really good time. This feeling was only improved when I walked round the corner and flushed another barred warbler! Nothing majorly rare of course but really great fun.

After lunch, I returned to the east and went round Tofts ness, a wide open grassy area that can hold pipits, buntings, waders, and the day before, a hoopoe. No such luck for me today. Along the walls I occasionally bumped into migrants such as redstarts or blackcaps, but actually it all felt a bit flat. Perhaps the attentions of a kestrel and a peregrine were keeping things down. Still, there’s always something to look at on Sanday, and as I made my way down the beach on the east side of the ness, groups of sanderling, bar-tailed godwits, and a few grey plover entertained. Ravens ‘kronked’ overhead and wheatears, pipits and wagtails fed along the shore. Out to sea, gannets passed by and seals lounged around, and it was all terribly nice. My blissful state continued until I flushed a woodpigeon from a field as I made my way back towards the car, which elicited quite an ‘adult’ response (which the rest of the guys were delighted to hear later on, as I recorded it on my passive recording kit!). Woodpigeon are one of those birds that suddenly attain much greater value on an Island like Sanday, where most autumns we don’t see any at all.

Another brilliant day. I addition to my birds, others added about 30 lapland buntings, a red-backed shrike, and good numbers of common migrants throughout.