Saturday 2nd November 2019
/Half-term holiday and I took the two eldest children for a trip to Yorkshire for a week to visit the family. Recently, everyone has moved to Driffield, in East Yorkshire which is, of course, just a short hop from the coast, so I had hopes of one or two decent birds appearing. My first opportunity for a little bit of birding was on Tuesday afternoon, 29th October, when I scooted off for a quick run round Flamborough. There wasn’t anything rare especially to go look for on the Yorkshire coast (apart from a possible female-type Lesser Kestrel just a few miles away from Driffield, which I decided was a little too boring just for the sake of a tick).
It was already getting rather late by the time I arrived on the headland but there had been apparently decent seawatching during the morning. Since I had not brought a ‘scope with me, I didn’t even think about starting any proper seawatching but walked south along the clifftop. The wind was coming in from the north east and was a little bit chilly, but there were a few birds sheltering on the sea below the cliffs. A few of these were Red-throated Divers, much the least-seen diver for me, although I am sure that I also had a fly-by Black-throated. Down on the rocks below, a flock of 26 Purple Sandpipers were resting and flying about with the odd seal playing in the shallows. I also saw what I am (almost) certain was a Little Auk fly past. It was difficult to be 100% just through the bins, but there had been a lot around that morning so it was very likely.
There wasn’t very many land birds in the fields but there were a few Chiffchaffs and Goldcrests on the sheltered side of the plantation at Old Fall. I bumped into a familiar face, Johnny, and we chatted about birds but mostly about Leeds United. He pointed out that one of the phylloscs appeared to be a very pale Willow Warbler, but I never got more than the briefest glances of it. Three Brambling emerged from the branches and showed very well, but the sun was now dropping, and the plantation was becoming dull and cold. Little else was seen on the walk back to the car apart from a few newly-arrived Redwings gorging on the numerous berries.
Wednesday morning, 30th October, was my pre-planned birding morning due to a predicted easterly breeze, and I decided to drive down to Spurn to sample the delights of the famous peninsula. The drive down from Driffield was a bloody nightmare, with torrential rain in the dark slowing me down as I left the town, then the early morning traffic through Hull was slow slow slow, then I got stuck behind a slow lorry almost all the way to Easington. It took me an hour and a half in the hire car to get there. I started at Kilnsea and walked along the road looking in the hedges and gardens. There hadn’t been an obvious fall of birds - the skies looked too clear for that - but there were still birds around, quite a few Redwings and Fieldfares, the odd crest and some finch movement. In a drive by “Kew” a Brambling was feeding really close on the edge of the gravel, but it was in heavy shade underneath the trees, hence the grainy images.
Reaching the pub I scanned across the Humber as the tide was up. Apparently there were a few Little Auks out there but everything was too far away to pick out anything apart from a couple of Common Scoter. Turning south I walked down by the canal but apart from Reed Buntings there was nothing new. As I reached the road again I watched a superb Merlin flying around and scanning out across the ever-expanding mud of the Humber, a Great Northern Diver flew south. I walked down to the breach where a few migrants had been funnelled and were heading south - a few Meadow Pipits, a Grey Wagtail, a few Skylarks and Reed Buntings, a small flock of Siskin. One thing I did notice was, even though it was mid-week and even though the migration-peak was over there was still plenty of birders around, with small groups and individuals every 50 yards or so. It must have been jam-packed here on busy weekends.
Whilst down near the Warren, I received a text from Andy - (who I had alerted to keep an eye on the bird news for me) - with the news of a “possible” Isabelline Wheatear in the Kilnsea area. Crikey! That sounds promising. I made my way slowly north again, waiting for more news from Andy, and walked along the coastal strip where I flushed a Woodcock from the grassy tussocks which gave excellent flight views as it doubled-back and flew right past me again. I reached the car and had a snack, got the news that the Izzy had been confirmed. Game on!! I thought it a little odd that I had said hello and walked past dozens of birders during the last half hour or so and not one of them had mentioned to me about a there being a possible Isabelline Wheatear in the vicinity. I don’t think that they were being deliberate (this is Yorkshire after all where the locals are super-friendly), I think it is just that, due to smartphone technology, everyone presumes everyone else knows the same news as what they do. Why wouldn’t a serious birder be connected to the modern grapevine?
I wasn’t exactly sure where the bird was, so I asked someone who was walking down Beacon Lane for directions and hiked up past the caravans and turned left along a track to see an absolutely huge field in front of me. I could only see a solitary birder there and so I crept up beside him. The bird was quite a long way away, half-way across the field, but thankfully the kind gent lent me his scope for a few minutes and I watched a splendid ISABELLINE WHEATEAR - British* List number 402.
The bird had all the features of an Isabelline - pale plumage, broad tail band, vertical stance, etc - and so did not seem a tricky one to ID. One thing that stood out, even with bins from a distance, was the very pale wings when in flight. This was my second new wheatear from Spurn, having seen my only Pied Wheatear nearby in October 1997. I wasn’t going to get much else on the bird from this viewpoint so I plodded back towards the car. It’s surprising how quickly a morning’s birding can get eaten up at this time of year and so I didn’t have a lot of time left. I tried to see the Izzy better from the other side of the field but, even after trudging through into someone’s back garden (by invitation!) it was still miles away. It was feeding very actively and I watched it perch on the fence that I had been standing behind earlier! It then popped over the brow of the hill and disappeared. Apparently, after that, it was hardly seen again. A few times in the evening nearby I think and not at all the next day. I had been very lucky and there was a good chance I may have dipped spectacularly if I’d not have made the decision to choose Spurn that morning. Who dares wins Rodney!
I decided to stop briefly at Sammy’s on the way back but nothing much new was seen there, although I did have another excellent view of a Woodcock. It would have been nice to have spent the whole day at Spurn but I headed back around lunchtime, and the drive took bloomin’ ages. Spurn is a long way from literally everywhere!
Friday 1st November and I had an unexpected free couple of hours so, after it stopped raining early afternoon, I headed for another shot at Flamborough. My plan was to find a Pallas’s Warbler at South Landing but arriving at the car park saw that the conditions were even worse than inland, with the sea fret coating every surface. Nevertheless, I gave it my best shot but I could only pick out a few Chiffchaffs and Goldcrests in the wooded valley, as well as a nice view of a Treecreeper. I then parked up at the end car park and thought I’d have a look for the Red-breasted Flycatcher that had been present the day before at the Bay Brambles. It hadn’t been reported that morning so it was a nice surprise to see it flick up into a close tree straight away. Another surprise was that it was a male bird which actually had a red breast! I cannot remember any of my previous RBFlys having any red on them. It showed well but photography was a little tricky in the grotty conditions, especially as it always perched right behind a twig when I had the camera up, but out in the open when I had the bins up. Down in the willows nearby, a small flock of Goldcrest looked like they had newly arrived and I had the thrill of watching them feed literally 6 inches from my face. A terrific ending to my little trip up north.