Newsletter July 2005

Liz’s Ramblings

I never learn – at the AGM there were no volunteers for the position of Editor of our Society’s newsletter – so instead of sitting tight on my hands, up shot my right hand and that was it. Luckily I have a daughter who can type, so in anticipation of future editions – my grateful thanks to her for her assistance. Next year I could well have my hands well glued to the seat – so be warned! In the meantime, all articles gratefully received either by e-mail to lizzie.beth@clara.co.uk or to Alwyn – usual details.

Since the AGM I have been to Lesvos. I haven’t as yet had the final numbers of sightings for the trip, but whatever the number, it was very enjoyable. I think my personal highlights were watching a dozen or so Red-footed Falcon hovering over the brow of a hill catching their supper and then being the only person from one of two watching groups to see a Blue Cheeked Bee-eater at the saltpans. All were looking in one direction for the bird, I turned round and there it was flying behind us.

The one thing from the trip that really irritated me was observing an over enthusiastic leader of another bird group using an i-pod to summon a Cretzschmar’s Bunting which us amateurs had spotted showing extremely well on the bushes using our eyes and ears.

I felt that was somewhat cheating – has anyone from WVBS got any views on the “ethics” of using such equipment? Perhaps I could start a discussion going on the subject.

NOTICES

The next indoor meeting is on 21 July 2005, 7.30pm at Lenwade Village Hall. Our speaker is Tim Nevard with his subject being “Pensthorpe”.

I notice from the programme that there will be a Field Trip to Pensthorpe on

6 August 2005. It will be interesting to hear what he has to say in preparation for our subsequent visit.

If you are planning to join us on this Field Trip to Pensthorpe, please can you let the leader – Josh Leeder know you are going as he is hoping to arrange a group admission fee to the Park. He can be contacted on 07904 971530.

The meeting time is 10am in the car park at Pensthorpe.

The following in-door meeting is on 18 August 2005 when Charles Fox will be talking about “The Gambia Experience”. Usual venue and start-time.

An attempt on the Icelandic “Day List” record – Allan Hale

I had to visit Iceland on business during early June 2001. The last visit, just over a year ago, resulted in meeting Gunnlauger Thrainson, a top Icelandic birder, and we made a promise to go birding together next time. This year’s planning went smoothly until Gunnlauger invited me to join him, plus Yann and Gaukur in an attempt to beat the Icelandic day list record of 72 (currently held by Yann and Gaukur).

The menu on the Icelandair flight included Puffin pate (honestly!) which I politely declined. Although, with 250,000 Icelanders being surrounded by six million puffins, I suppose a few for the pot are not going to be missed. The plan was to drive some 400 km to Lake Myvatn, then take a full day’s birding on day two, leaving day three to get back to Reykjavik by the ‘long route’ thus virtually circling the whole of Iceland in just over two days (and birding on the way). Remember that Iceland is more or less the size of England!

An excited Gunnlauger was patiently waiting at Keflavik airport. He had just found a Lesser Scaup, only the third record of the species for Iceland. Through the mist and the drizzle it still showed well for us. The journey from Reykjavik to Myvatn started around 5.30pm. We checked into a guesthouse on the shores of the lake at half past midnight, having added Goosander and Starling to the Lesser Scaup. Gunnlauger and I had experienced some good birding, taken a load of photographs, and it was still light (as it was to be all night) since we were within a few kilometres of the Arctic Circle.

Did our ‘big day’ start early? No, it started with a leisurely breakfast at 8am! At this stage we had no designs on the record. About an hour later Gunnlauger and I arrived at Myvatn Biological Station to pick up Yann, his place of work. Gaukur was only going to arrive on the scene much later.

Laky Myvatn and the surrounding area was incredible. It has the largest breeding concentration of ducks in the world and we got Wigeon, Scaup, Pochard, Tufted Duck, Red-breasted Merganser, Long-tailed Duck, gadwall, Pintail, Shoveler, Mallard, Teal, Green-winged Teal and Common Scoter plus two great ‘goodies’, namely Harlequin and Barrow’s Goldeneye. Other water birds seen were Whooper Swan, Greylag Goose, Red-throated and Great Northern Divers, Red-necked Phalarope and Slavonian Grebe. Breeding waders included Redshank, Snipe, Whimbrel, Oystercatcher, Golden Plover, Black-tailed Godwit and Dunlin. Passerines were few, but Redwing were singing everywhere, Wheatear were reasonably common whilst Raven patrolled the sky above them. Amongst a small patch of dwarf Birch we got a singing Wren, a family party of Mealy Redpoll and a vagrant Brambling (a distinctly scarce species in Iceland). White Wagtail and Meadow Pipit were added, close to a bridge where we had come within a yard or so of running over an Arctic Fox the previous evening! The ubiquitous Arctic Tern and Herring Gull were everywhere.

Before leaving the area, Gunnlauger and Yann diligently ‘scoped a nearby hillside. I enquired why, but silence ensued. Then I was asked to look through the ‘scope – it was trained on the nest of a Gyr Falcon along with sitting bird. I was sworn to secrecy regarding the nest site.

Off northward towards the coast with a list of 39 birds. Arctic Skua and Ptarmigan were soon added to the list and I got some good photographs of the latter. The coast soon produced more gulls – Common, Black-headed and both Lesser and Great Black-backed. Eider Duck were then almost never out of view for the rest of the day, some even had young. I thought it was quite early for such northerly latitude, but nobody else was impressed.

On to the harbour at Husevik where we got Ringed Plover and summer-plumaged Sanderling and Turnstone. The harbour also gave us Kittiwake, Fulmar and yet another ‘goodie’, this time Iceland Gull which, despite its name, is most definitely uncommon the country.

At Husevik we called on Gaukur and picked him up. He had heard a rumour of a Carrion Crow at Seydisfjordur, which if true, would represent the first record for Iceland. He decided to join us for the rest of the day so he could go to Seydisfjordur the next morning to search for the Crow. As a Brit, I was welcomed as someone familiar with the species who should be able to eliminate Rook, a species rarely recorded in Iceland.

The next sighting was even more unusual than the Iceland Gull; it was a large iceberg offshore. So unusual in fact, that it made the national news. We then stopped for a real long shot. A Broad-billed Sandpiper had been a spring visitor to a particular area for 14 consecutive years (but not last year). It was assumed to be dead but we thought it worthwhile to search the area anyway. After a while Gauker announced that he could hear it calling. I remember thinking that these Icelanders have got ears like sewer rats! After a while we had a never to be forgotten experience. The Broad-billed Sandpiper treated us to a prolonged display flight whilst amorously pursuing a female Dunlin. Great stuff!

We then picked up Great Skua and as we continued along the coast, literally thousands of Puffins – or perhaps tens of thousands. Gannets were quite common and we also got a few Pink-footed Geese, the latter more likely to be found on their breeding grounds of the Icelandic interior.

We then called in to the farm owned by Egill (inexplicably pronounced ‘A-yuth’) one of my business colleagues. I have no idea what time it was and I was certainly unaware (as was everybody else) that we had no less than 57 species in the bag. Whilst refreshing ourselves, a group of Knot flew over. Egill was amazed at both our reaction and our ability to identify the birds in flight. He recalled introducing Gunnlauger to me just over a year ago when we was impressed by the use of scientific names during the ‘birdy conversation’.

A roadside pool produced a splendid male American Wigeon which is another species rare to Iceland and then, quite remarkably, the next pool gave us an equally rare Ring-necked Duck. I then heard a song which I didn’t recognise. I was told ‘It’s only a Snow Bunting’. All very fine for them to be flippant, but a summer plumaged Snow Bunting was a damned good bird for me, even though they became common from this point onward. Yet another rarity for Iceland followed, but my colleagues could not understand my lack of interest in a Common Goldeneye. Cormorant soon followed. Total now 63 but we still didn’t realise it.

Off to a seabird colony where I was promised Brunnich’s Guillemot, which would hopefully be my second new bird of the day. All very fine, but cliff nesting seabirds and my fear of heights do not enjoy an easy relationship. It was a long walk along a difficult rocky shoreline to the cliff. Several summer-plumaged Purple Sandpipers made the walk seem less arduous.

Without going too close to the edge of the cliff I picked up Common Guillemot, Razorbill and Black Guillemot, but the elusive Brunnich’s was further down the cliff and out of my sight. The other birders came to the rescue by setting up a telescope with the target bird in view but positioned as far from the edge as possible. Then I just had to get to it! Lucky there were no spectators, since the sight of me being led to the ‘scope hanging on to three other birders with eyes firmly closed must have been a sight to behold. Anyway, I finally got a very good view of Brunnich’s, albeit briefer than I would have liked. I was recommended to advance a few more paces to view many more of the birds. My reply was unprintable!

Onward. Another great bird for the Icelanders, but somewhat less so for me was Shelduck. This is another rare bird for Iceland with less than half a dozen pairs in the whole country. Its rarity led us to age the birds. We reckoned with some confidence that there were two in their first summer and two full adults (it’s the marking on the trailing edge of the wings which is the giveaway).

Our next target was Grey Phalarope, another very scarce breeding bird in Iceland. I was told to be prepared for a longish walk for this one, but luckily Yann spotted the birds almost immediately after getting out of the car. These struck me as really chunky little things after the daintiness of the Red-throated version.

By now it was around 7.30pm and we knew we were doing really well. Gunnlauguer demanded a species count. I reckoned that he and I had seen no less than 70 species during the day.

After he had taken a cursory glance down the list he nodded his approval and announced that we should go for the Icelandic ‘day list’ recorded despite the lateness of the hour. Then the situation got really tense when Yann announced that he had got 71, one more than us. A frantic comparison of the lists resulted in Yann’s admission that he had seen a Glaucous Gull in Husavik harbour that we had missed. Having joined us too late in the day to matter, Gaukur was less than impressed that the record previously held by him and Yann was potentially under threat.

Our priority then changed to searching the harbours of each and every fishing village for the elusive Glaucous Gull (by no means a scarce bird in the country). As each village came and went, Gunnlauger got more and more nervous – Yann getting the record for himself was not an option that he relished. I mentioned that it might not be justice for a visiting British vagrant to share in the record, but he gave me a serious argument on that one! Our car was falling behind, due to the extra time and effort we were putting in to finding a Glaucous Gull. But that particular quarry was forgotten when we turned a corner to see Yann literally dancing in the street. He pointed to a group of around 30 Whooper Swans and instructed us to view the right hand bird. It was a Bewick’s Swan. Now this is a serious rarity for Iceland, and one that Yann had been saying for some years was his ornithological ambition to find. Now his dream had come true, and we all tarried to make copious field notes to assure acceptance of the record by the appropriate authorities.

We pondered on the Bewick’s future. Would it return south-eastwards next winter to join up with its own kind, or was it lost forever? Probably we shall never know. The numbers were revisited; Yann had now equalled the record, but we remained one behind, with the Glaucous Gull still elusive. Gunnlauger swore in several languages to express his displeasure!

Continuing southward along the coast road and Yann emerged from the car in front and pointed across a field to another group of Swans. We saw nothing remarkable and carried on. Perhaps Yann was still dreaming about the Bewick’s. We stopped at the next estuary and scanned. Meanwhile I asked what the pointing was in aid of, and I was told it was for the Barnacle Goose that was with the Swans.

Barnacle Goose? What Barnacle Goose? We hadn’t seen it. ‘He’s lying!’ announced the ever more frustrated Gunnlauger, who promptly demanded that we went back for it even though we had overshot by at least 10 miles. The time was now 10.45pm. The other car went on forward and team spirit disintegrated as we did an about-turn. Our mathematical skills were severely tested as we calculated that we were one behind the previous record whilst Yann had already beaten it by one. The atmosphere was tense as we drove back.

Ten miles back we duly found the Goose tucked in between the Swans. Barnacle Geese are common locally in Iceland on passage but it was thought that they had all moved through some weeks ago. Not so, apparently. The old record had been equalled, but we were still one behind Yann’s current total. A quick about turn, and back to searching for the Glaucous Gull. At 11.40pm the sun was still shining and I commented that we were ‘dead in the water’ with no gull and only 20 minutes to go. Gunnlauger corrected me. We were allowed the full 24 hours so we pressed on with urgency.

We caught the others up at the last possible harbour and spotted a distant white-winged gull. It was heavily built with a monstrous bill, a definite Glaucous. Yesssss!!! The time was a quarter past midnight and the atmosphere immediately improved. The new record was ours, all three of us now.

It was still a long haul to the guesthouse at Egilstadir and we arrived just after 2.30am. On getting out of the car a Blackbird was singing heartily. That put us up to 74 and we had beaten the old record by two. Congratulations all round and three very happy birders adjourned to bed.

The next morning we duly found the Carrion Crow (the first for Iceland). It was a juvenile just commencing its first moult on his body and coverts. We then followed up by adding Wood Pigeon (a scarce migrant) and Goldcrest (a very local breeding bird) to my Icelandic list. My total for the country was now 80.

Our last curious twist was when Gunnlauger wanted House Sparrow on his list. This species breeds at only one farm in the south of the country where there are two or three pairs. We arrived in the middle of the night although it was still light of course. Even so, I am proud to say that we couldn’t find one.

Dancing and tail-less long tailed tits A few weeks ago, we witnessed a strange ball of pink and brown fluff land on the fat balls hanging in our garden and were most intrigued for some minutes, trying to identify the ‘new’ bird we were seeing. Closer inspection through binoculars eventually identified this mysterious creature as a tail-less long tailed tit. It was happily pecking away at the ball of fat in the company of others of its kind and appeared to experience no problems in flying: but it was completely tail-less. Shortly after, we witnessed some very bizarre behaviour from two or three long tailed tits. They kept landing in a shrub, then ‘bouncing’ up and down in the air above the bush, before landing and then repeating the process. Very entertaining and this was witnessed again a few days later. Research from Alwyn says it is possibly courting or display behaviour. Must say, we were impressed!! Brenda Palmer

Observations for the winter months During the colder months of the year we are likely to see black-headed gulls scavenging for food in our gardens. It is worth looking closely at these gulls since among them you may see the odd common gull. It is quite usual to see a small flock of about a dozen black-heads with one common in tow who makes no attempt to find food for himself but waits to steal food from the black-heads. In fact, they behave just like skuas. In spite of their larger size, the commons are very aerobatic and watching them in their pursuits is quite entertaining. When I lived in London I noticed this behaviour on the Thames at Putney and have seen it often in my garden here in Reepham. I wrote about it to Dr Moss Taylor but he rather dismissed it as a figment of my imagination. I should like to hear whether any members have seen this. Geoff Hemmings

Questions I am asked (and unable to answer) – Alwyn Jackson

I am often asked questions about birds by friends and relatives and often find myself waffling on not really knowing the answer. Inevitably when I return home I dive for my reference books in an effort to find the answer in case I am asked the same question again but also to widen my very skimpy knowledge.

Here are a few questions I have been asked recently and the answers I have been able to put together without needing to phone a friend.

Question: Do Nightjars churr all night?

Answer: A Nightjar’s first call is a good indicator of the start of its evening activity. Their waking times vary with time of sunset (i.e. season and latitude), weather and phase of moon. Waking times can be anytime between c11 minutes before to c26 minutes after sunset.

In Britain and central Europe the birds call at this time but usually take a break around midnight c 23.00-01.00 hours then can continue until dawn. In Finland though in high summer the birds continue calling throughout the night until c03.00 hours. In autumn (mid-September) calling is restricted to circa half an hour at dusk.

Question: What do Nightjars eat?

Answer: A Nightjar’s diet consists mainly of insects, mainly moths and beetles. Their diet is dependent on the supply of insects and varies according to the season, weather and temperature.

When food is plentiful the bird takes its prey in sustained lower-level aerial pursuit (rarely above trees) like a Swallow. When fewer insects are flying (and probably after dark), the bird will make short flights from a low perch like a Flycatcher.

The capture (sometimes 2-3 items) is followed by a return to the same perch where the prey is swallowed live and whole. Insects are presumably spotted against the light of the sky.

The undigested chitin fragments are ejected as pellets. There is little data on the prey capture rates but one female hunting from a perch caught 15 insects in 15 minutes; another 31 items in 28 such flights during a similar period.

Adults forage for c 1-3.5 hours per night to meet their own needs.

Question: How did the Sandwich Tern get its name?

Answer: John Latham (1740-1837) an English naturalist coined the name in 1795 to commemorate the town of Sandwich (in Kent) from which place specimens had been sent to him. Latham was a doctor in Dartford, Kent where he collected the Dartford Warbler. He retired in 1796 and settled in Hampshire. His “General History of Birds” (1821-28) and “A General Synopsis of Birds” (1781-1801) established him as a leading British ornithologist.

Alwyn Jackson