8th October. The Wrong Pants

Woke with a reasonable amount of enthusiasm, though after a thorough search around the two crop fields it had reduced to at best enthusiastic apathy so I retreated to Sunnydell for tea and toast. There was clearly nothing happening, though a Garden Warbler and a few Redwing were new.

The sun was shining and there were little if any clouds in the sky, clearly today was not going to be the day. Getting far too comfy in front of the laptop - mostly chuckling at the raptor goings on on Scilly - I was gradually slipping in to a lack of birds depression. Andy insisted that we should get out and battle on and I reluctantly agreed. Making for the Sumburgh area we first concentrated on the farm and the adjacent quarries again there was very little, but as the cloud began to build the birds soon magically began to appear. Nothing much just Goldcrests, Robins and Song Thrushes.

Walking towards the hotel I picked up a couple of Spotted Fly's, several Chiffchaffs and at least one of the two Yellow-browed Warblers that Gary had found earlier and another distant stripey headed phyllosc that appeared to have a yellow rump and a crown stripe. Sure it was a splendid Pallas's Warbler, one of those birds that you watch and feel totally gracious. With a further 2 Pallas's, R F Blue-tail and Pallas's Gropper found throughout Shetland today tomorrow is shaping up very nicely.

Were you wondering what the title refers to? No? I didn't think so! Since finding the Leach's Petrel last month I christened the pants of the day my 'lucky pants'. Given the forecast I got them ready for today's birding only to forget to put them on. Does this mean that I have two pairs of lucky pants or am I just talking bollocks - I'll leave it to you to decide.

7th October. In the Air Tonight

According to sources in the know, there's a shit storm of migrants heading west throughout the Low Countries this evening. Obviously Holland is well south of Shetland but one assumes that the same thing will be happening further north. With this in mind I'm off to bed, but before that a review of the day. I didn't see much other than one, probably two, Barred Warblers between Virkie and Toab and a few geese moving through. Goodnight.

6th October. Buff N Stuff

With the weather suggesting that there would be little chance of anything new, we decided that the best course of action for today would be to pay the Buff stuff at Esha Ness a visit, taking in some likely hotspots along the way.

First port of call was Voe, where the stand of sycamores behind the Pier Head and Voe House are always popular. Standing behind the Pier Head I was distracted by the delicate fragrance of baking. I had been tipped off over the weekend that Voe is the home of Johnson and Wood, bakers of the legendary macaroni pie. Wandering past the bakery I caught the eye of one of the staff and asked where I might purchase said delicacy. Directed towards a discreet door I entered the magical kingdom of the pie bakery. In a rather surreptitious manner a draw was pulled back, revealing a collection of offerings. I opted for a macaroni and a chicken in white sauce. On seeing me walking down the street with my purchases the Llama left the unidentified passerine he had heard and headed for the bakery to break his macaroni pie virginity. To say he was pleased with it would be an understatement.

Love at first bite

The King of Pies wears a crown hiding its secret layer of baked beans below

There were also a few birds at Voe with Spotted and at least a couple of Pied Fly's being the avian highlights.

Next stop was for the Buff-bellied Pipit at Tangwick. A couple of photographers were staked out net to its usual spot but the bird wasn't playing. Wandering a 100 or so yards down the road I found a flock of pipits in a field, one of which was the target bird. Unfortunately I was unable to get anyone over, due too lack of phone signal before it disappeared. We decided to head over to Esha Ness for the Buff-breasted Sand's and return to Tangwick in the hope that it would be back in the field.

At Esha Ness it didn't take long to locate two of the sandpipers and as usual, with this species they were rather tame.


Returning back to Tangwick we delighted with point blank views of the pipit.

A few other likely rare looking sites were checked out on the way home, most of which I'm sure would be overflowing with migrants given the right conditions. As it as the best we could manage was a Yellow-browed Warbler and a Jack Snipe at Isbister.

5th October. Yomp

After a late night, anything after 9pm is late for me, I had a bit of a lie in and finally dragged myself out of bed at 8.30 and mooched around for a while. It was still quite windy outside, but in a moment of madness I grabbed my stuff and headed out. What started off as a wander around the crops ended up in a full scale yomp. Virkie to Boddam to Quendale and back to Virkie which probably covered close on 12 miles. And the birds? One Jack Snipe at Boddam and a Whitethroat halfway up Quendale. So despite what you might read on the pager it's not really overrun with birds common, scarce or rare!
Despite the lack of birds it was a very enjoyable walk that I might just do again when there's more birds about.
Some pies were acquired halfway round, from Mainlands, but were of a poor quality and a little overpriced.

4th October. Lighthouse Fever Spreads

Following news of the Pallas's Gropper we decided that given the size of the Swainson's crowd we'd give it a miss at least until things had calmed down. Wandering around the crop field seeing very little, except for a couple of Whinchat, my concentration was broken by a call from the Drunkbirder informing me that the PG Tips had been confirmed. Unfortunately Rob had tour guide duties to perform and a lift to Levenwick was unavailable until 11!

Starting to feel restless I set off walking to Levenwick with the thought that I could probably hitch a lift some of the way. Unfortunately cars were heading north at a rate of one every ten minutes and those that passed clearly didn't like my unshaven serial killer look.

Rob and Andy calmed me down reassuring me that it would still be there and offered to pick me up on their way to the Sumburgh Radde's. This time the Radde's was showing well and after some poor photography we were on our way to the Gropper.


Gropper? Yes gropper. Arriving at Levenwick we were greeted by two of the 'losers' who invited Andy and myself to have a look at pictures of the PG Tips - except that these were pictures of a gropper! They weren't great pictures and I kept my thoughts to myself. The Llama however told them straight - those Llamas can be nasty at times. Further photos clearly showed a gropper.

It seems that three of them had simply suffered a case of Lighthouse Fever. Lighthouse Fever occurs when you're on a roll and your confidence is high. You've found that big rare and your appetite demands more. You forget the rules and suffer spells of delusion, forgetting that common birds do also occur on Shetland - you become a Gurner*. Before you know it your up to your balls in an iris bed or disused quarry with flashes of 'rare' round every corner. The condition ultimately results in a feeling of abject failure where despite having struck gold previously you realise that you're only as good as your last bird. The only known cure is to get out there and readdress the balance with more rare, a nice Dusky Thrush ought to do it.

Some consolation came in the form of the nearby Channerwick Booted Warbler being re-identified as a Sykes. Unfortunately it was a right bugger to see in the Japanese Knotweed but eventually gave itself up to a typical (for Shetland) small crowd.

Lately I seem to have a knack of missing the bill off everything!

The Levenwick lot left Channerwick laughing with threats of clearing the nearby Sandwick Bakery of pastry based savouries. Sure enough when I arrived the shelves were empty. Expressing my disappointment I was overjoyed when one of the nice ladies in the shop nipped in the back and came out with a fine brace of fresh lasagne pies, which I waved under the nose of the Losers - it just wasn't their day.

With filming over for the latest series of Benidorm Johnny Vegas embarked on a week in the Levenwick area

Gurn (gûrn)- vb
1. To contort one's face; grimace.
2. To accidentally identify a common bird as a rare one.

(Courtesy of J Gilroy)

3rd October. We're Not Singing Anymore.....

Not much to report. Failed to find anything of interest, actually I didn't find anything. Thrashed around some fields and ditches, missed the Radde's at Sumburgh twice, drank some tea, went to the shop, saw a Great Grey Shrike outside the house and thrashed around in some fields and a ditch again, all for scant reward.


To add insult to injury those nice chaps at Levenwick had a probable Pallas's Gropper just as the light was going! All in all making it a pretty crap day.

The third umpire has been called upon but for the moment its:

Levenwick Losers (oh the irony) 2 - Fools of Virkie 0

2nd October. It's Gone a Bit Scilly

These Shetland trips don't half come around quick, it seems only 364 days since I last came here.

Picking the Llama up (because as everyone knows Llamas can't drive) ridiculously early at 4am we made our way excitedly to Birmingham Airport, got on a plane, got off at Aberdeen, got on another plane and arrived on Shetland just before 11am.

A quick cup of tea and we were out in the field - the field at the back of the house to be precise. A nice start with 4 Lapland Buntings and a Whinchat raising hopes that there were plenty of migrants around, though the former had probably been around for a while. In to Toab where the pie space in the shop was empty whilst another Whinchat lurked behind. News of a Radde's Warbler in the second quarry at Sumburgh was tempting but we resisted and headed for the Exnaboe area. Typically the Llama and I picked the wrong route and saw very little (actually nothing) whilst the Fray stumbled in to, Bluethroat, Black Redstart, Short-toed Lark and a Yellow-browed, all bar the latter we caught up with later.

Adolf the cat. Cleansing Exnaboe and Virkie area of 'rare'

With birds obviously arriving we figured that Sumburgh Lighthouse would be a good bet and better still birder free. We were right about the lack of birders (they were all at the Radde's) but only managed a Brambling and a Sedge Warbler, which toyed with our tired minds and eyes before giving itself up.

Our plan to look at the Radde's was put on hold when a call from John Hague AKA The Drunkbirder, informed us that they had just found a Swainson's Thrush. What a jolly nice find, couldn't happen to a nicer bunch thought I or something similar. Reluctantly we left our solitary Sedge Warbler and headed for the thrush.

Arriving there to negative news we were greeted by the unusually sober Hague, who happily showed us photos of their prize find which had now vanished. Fortunately it was soon re-found in a nearby garden where it eventually gave itself up.

This is my 6th autumn trip to Shetland and every year there seems to be more and more birders visiting, presumably because Scilly is crap and massively expensive compared to Shetland. I couldn't help but feel that the Swainson's 'twitch' was a little overcrowded, though all birders I saw were well behaved - let's hope it stays that way.

Half the crowd.

Day one in the South Mainland Cup and it's Levenwick Losers 1 Fools of Virkie 0

26th September. Hard Going Trails

Well it was a walk I hadn't done since I was 17 and hopefully it'll be 23 years before have to do it again. The photos do it no justice and I won't pretend that I can tell Willow from Alder because like everyone else I can't. All the same it will sit on the list as Trails Flycatcher, as would Soft-plumage Petrel if I ever see one other than off a boat!


Great bird, great twitch with no more than 5o present at any one time - suggesting that either everyone else (who's bothered about this kind of thing) either saw the Cornish bird or are just too unfit.
Further down the road at Kelling another first Red-necked and Grey Phalarope together.

Little and Large

23rd September. Raising the Bar

THE FOLLOWING POST HAS BEEN PASSED BY THE BRITISH BIRDWATCHING ASSOCIATION AND GIVEN AN 18 RATING

It's getting very close to that time of year when the Llama and myself head north for a feast of lasagne pies and smart price whisky, no doubt resulting in a few libellous blog posts. The next few days will be spent optimistically viewing the weather charts and pretending that we know what we're talking about. We might even see some birds!

Proper bird stringing finding liqour

There's a lot of exciting babble flying around the ether at the moment, most from the very excitable Andy L. He's even talking about a sweepstake, for the best 'rare', of £10 per entrant. £10 from a Yorkshire man - you're having a laugh! To save all the trouble Andy, you or any one else wanting to waste a £10 pie voucher, pop your money in an envelope and post it to Punkbirder's, Norfolk, England.

Punkbirders? I'm sure you all remember them:

They were new, fresh and anarchic. They travelled the world in search of 'rare'. Writing useful articles about vagrancy and with PHD's by the sack load they became an editors nightmare, just adding their qualifications in the credits would regularly run into the following months Birding World.
Gradually they grew older and even wiser and started to move their separate ways decimating the once rich gene pool of Norfolk. One to the darkest reaches of Amazonia, one to BOU's 'gentleman's club' with comfy chair with free pipe and slippers and most startling of all one to Doncaster! Others travel the length and breadth of our glorious land counting Coots and fondling Puffins, while rumour has it that one has regular paid work!
Sacking off the Northern Isles for previously uncharted territory - that turned out to be shit they went their separate ways leaving just a handful of members to dream about the halcyon days in the lighthouse. Days when they would pillage the Northern Isles of 'rare' (like their viking predecessors) 'skoring' in every ditch that they came across.

Just like those Daleks from Dr Who they've regrouped pulling in new recruits from Ireland (Tim O'tay) and Guernsey Dave. Presumably both wanting to increase their Irish and British and Channel Islands and British lists respectively. Well I don't know what dark arts those two wizard like Punks have taught our colonial cousins but it's bloody working. No sooner had Tim ticked his first (British) Willow Warbler he quickly progressed up the ladder to finding a super River Warbler knocking off Barred and Yellow-browed on the way! Not to be outdone Dave was on his way back to the lighthouse, for a brew, when the sudden case of tick induced shits came upon him - forcing him into the cover of the Sumburgh Quarry, where on dropping his pants discovered something brown! Britain and Ireland's 5th Brown Flycatcher!

I once saw a Goldcrest in here

Congratulations chaps there may only be four of you but you've raised the bar considerably, I'm sure LGRE will be sending you the appropriate certificate very soon. Now if you'd all move along and leave us something for next weekend we'd be very appreciative!

Rick looking shocked at the amount of 'rare'

19th September. Four Star Petrel

Waking to drizzle and what I could only describe as less than ideal conditions it was more than a little tempting to get back in to bed. Despite this I got up and by 7:20 was on my way to Orgreave. As I dragged myself to the shore I was musing yesterdays Fea's and thinking how it had put a bit of a dampener on my weekend. The rain wasn't helping much, but suddenly out of the corner of my eye I noticed a group of gulls harassing a smaller bird. Presuming it would be the Black Tern that was wandering all over the valley I picked my bins up. It was black...BLACK my brain screamed...SHIT LEACH'S PETREL!! Almost immediately it disappeared out of view around the point. I ran, faster than I had run in a long time probably even faster! By the time I'd reached the viewing pole my run had descended in to a near crawl and I was shaking like a shitting whippet! Fortunately the gulls were still pursuing it and I managed to scope it before it dropped down near the waters edge. Cursing myself for leaving the SLR at home I fished around for the trusty Samsung and grabbed a few seconds of very shakey video footage before the gulls set about it again.
Settling again I hurriedly made a few phone calls including one to Jo suggesting that if she wanted to see Leach's Petrel she should get up and to bring my camera! A Carrion Crow had made a few passes at it, at one point almost grabbing it. The Petrel seemed to have had enough and started to gain height. I watched it flying almost swift like over Treeton village, as it began to drop towards Catcliffe I was thinking it would drop on the flash, out of nowhere it was whacked by a Sparrowhawk. A sad end for a smart bird.