Cossack Chiffy and more birds in poverty.

Whilst on a Welsh foray recently, helping our local infiltrator of the RSPB deal with an elderly scratchcard addict, I was fortunate to witness the following possible Russian oligarch flitting around looking for insects in the coastal spa resort of Merthyr Mawr. These bully boys often over winter here with a few of the greener local ladies and we did witness some of their brash nature as they expelled a hungry Firecrest for wearing too much eye make up! Unfortunately this guy was saying nothing so we couldn't get total confirmation of his origins (so we had a bloody good guess from his outfit).

Merthyr is a remote place and is hidden in secluded sand dunes, in fact, we had to ask some locals how to find it after we had become disorientated by the sunshine (yes real sunshine). Once we got the dudatronometer set correctly we found the correct area and crossed the small bridge (trip trot, trip trot) avoiding all trolls (luckily Rooney was on his way to Wembley) and went about our business scanning bushes for signs of the spa residents. This guy plays it carefully and sent out a forward party of long tailed tits to check us out but eventually he let us near enough to get this rare photo.

Vlad (not his real name else the birding mafia will have me!)

A warning, to those of us with dodgy ankles, all the paths at Merthyr are hard work. They consist of deep sand and consequently it took us an age to cross 1.5km to the spa entrance. By the time I returned to my car I was in agony. Luckily the RSPB train their staff for such eventualities and pain relieving gel and a support bandage were applied by this trusty cohort (the things some birders will do to get out of paying petrol money eh!?). Oh by the way, he did meet his quarry, Glen a local aged RSPB follower appeared out of nowhere once we reached the spa.

Once recovered news came out of the elusive yank duck at Cosmeston. Well it's elusive to me but not to any of the locals. Sure enough after a great search it was found not to be there. It only took me 1000 attempts to see it last year too!

More disturbingly the recession has hit this site too with scenes like the one below becoming common. These birds were taking food from any passer by and often squabbles broke out as the hunger just overcame these sorry individuals.

Begging is common in this Welsh community.

SPAT Back at Ya!

OK, After much deliberation (and pestering from birding cohorts) the SPAT blog is up and running once more after some well earned rest (mainly pie eating and ale drinking) from the rat race.

New additions to our blogging arsenal are Dudecam ,this mainly is used for taking high quality images of birds but also has a tendency to bring to light "Dudes in Action" (a little bit like "world in action" but taking Dude politics very seriously) and also we now have penetrated the heart of the Robin Stroking Pensioners Bingo club (society of sorts) by sending in our Welsh "spy in the pie" birding scratchcard sales man, LEEMEE, to sort 'em out and feedback on their freemason like rituals and ways.

So to start us off I thought I would produce an iconic image of Britain in recession.....



A destitute Robin begs for food at a well known wetlands centre.

Poor-tland Riots!

Our adventure had been booked for months, the weather was looking promising and on Friday 15th May the Spatwagon rolled out of Shrewsbury with high hopes amongst its passengers 4 Spats + a Shat (namely Yoda, The Dudekeeper, Dave "smiler" Weston and my good self + Alan "I only tick other peoples birds" Northern.

En route we decided to meet Matt "Twat" Meehan at Gordano services but the heavy rain put him off and as we waited he had zoomed past to Sedgmoor Services. Eventually we got to Sedgmoor only to view Matt looking at a Gingsters pasty lorry longingly. We called him up and said "Get us a pasty mate!" Eventually he saw us and we trundled off toward Dawlish Warren as a Kentish Plover had been reported from here, over the past 2 days, and we all pretty much needed it as a life tick. We also all knew what little buggers they are to see, so many fingers were crossed and no mention of the D word, or the birds name or anything relating to our success was uttered. Superstitious lot that we are!

At Dawlish much hiking, fence hopping, beach combing and bird debating took place but alas once more we were to dip another Kentish Plover!! Oh and in the process we all got soaked for good measure. Not even the much debated western/ semi-p sand showed for us (but i did spend an awful long time trying to turn an odd looking Dunlin into it LOL).

After re-energising ourselves with a pie we trundled off to Portland and to our new homestead the Obs.

The Obs.

Room allocation was as follows:

Meehan - "I don't do squalor" had the penthouse flat.

Yoda and Vernalobos - "Put the snorers together" - we were half way up so we could warn ships of imminent risks in heavy fog.

The others - "lets all share this room near the front door" - this was Alan's idea as it allowed him quicker access to get out and tick other peoples birds!

After a brief seawatch where 3 of us managed to convert Arctic Skua into Pom and then back again, we decided we all needed beer and so an inferior Portwagon took us off to a local alehouse that Yoda had chosen out of the real ale guide six months previous. We walked in and it was empty with a small smattering of yokels to keep us company. At approx 8.30pm a group of rapscallions arrived in funny jumpers and hats, one was smoking a pipe and another looking like a new age pirate, yes the band had arrived! At about 9.30pm (4th pint by then i reckon) the musicians started to stir and a crowd of varying ages (including Charlie Watts and Alice Cooper) whooped with joy and began to drink copious amounts of Cider (8%). 10.30pm and we had established that this was indeed the Punk Wurzels! They rocked and we asked the landlord what they were called? He cried "whose the beard!" (later to be discovered they were called "whose afeared"). Their set comprised of rock covers involving lyrics about cider and badgers. They liked Badgers a lot and the lead singer even dressed up as one for the second half! By Midnight the crowd had caught their quarry and waved it aloft.

"Where's me Badger!"

This was the point that me and Yoda decided to join in and try the cider. Well to cut a long story short (mainly cause I don't remember getting back to the obs) we both ended up gurning and trying to eat Matts Welsh pie (that somehow he still managed to cook in the oven on our return), funnily I remember the pie and spilling it on my boots but I sure as hell don't remember the rest! (A joint snoring video exists somewhere LOL)

The next day commenced later than planned and as I remember it was a painful start but we still all made it for
another seawatch but at 10am we all dived into the Lobster Pot Cafe (tourist trap) for a fry-up, except at £8 a pop for a poor quality version of English breakfast, I opted for a pot of "real" tea (real=tealeaves) which sorted me out good and proper. The toast wasn't bad though.

OK the weather was wrong, we had to accept that, so we me, Matt, Damon and Dave decided to search for the long lost Serin and potential migrants whilst Yoda decided not to bother and Alan well we thought he had given up too as he was beginning to chunter about all the action in Kent he was missing out on. Later on though, after much slogging we were rewarded with a spotted flycatcher and also with an even rarer view of Mr Northern actually bothering to look for birds, unheard of!

L to R: Alan Northern, Matt Meehan, Dave Weston and Damon Howells.

Notice the glare off Alan and Damons heads!

At this point Alan decided to twitch our spot fly, which, in true style, he hadn't bothered to find himself, whilst the rest of us headed up the coastal path to look for Puffin for the year. We eventually reached the high cliff edge and eagle eyed Dave spotted a Puffin flying into the cliff face. Matt was so excited he virtually hurled himself over the cliff until I did my "Shropshire dad" bit and warned him of the perils of over enthusiasm on cliff edges. Once i got my view of Puffin I decided to try and get a shot of one of my fave seabirds, the Fulmar. The result is below and I'm pleased as punch with this shot.

Fulmar.

Our now happy throng walked down toward the obelisk where we thought Yoda would be, however we found him begging for change nearby whilst looking out to sea simultaneously. Who said birders cannot multitask!

Yoda: He's got begging nailed.

We went back to the Obs for a rest and then later me and Matt decided to do yet another seawatch. The wind had picked up massively now and the waves were totally impressive.

This didn't really help us except for one thing, it did push in a storm petrel for us to view which was one more year tick bagged. Later, at the Obs, Yoda decided he would seawatch from the patio and he also managed to get onto some stormies, everyone was excited but once more Matt got over excited and kicked the tripod (whoops!) so no one else got on them. As you can imagine much piss taking followed but we've all made that mistake at sometime in our birding careers, this time it was Matt's turn.

Action Matt, check his lightweight tripod.

Afterwards it was decided to opt for a quiet night in with Pizza, Pies and Wine. This actually ended up in a heated debate about flushing and was followed on by a desperate attempt by Mr Northern to hijack Matt's car so he could go and twitch other peoples birds in Kent! I opted for an early night.

The following morning I went out on a solo hunt for the Serin and once more didn't see it. When I got back to the obs the heavens opened and the rain came down very hard. Matt was all for heading home there and then when he arose but suddenly the sky cleared and we felt it was worth getting out there once more.

Me and Dave went down to the obelisk, where most of the seawatching was done from, and on arrival I noted the hardened locals were excited about something, I got my scope straight into the direction they were looking and picked out 2 Pomarine Skuas! Another year tick bagged.

The Obelisk: Note a disgruntled birder protesting at no being in Kent.

Following on from this Me, Dave and Damon decided to go for yet another look for the Serin and failed once more. Dave at this point began to cry.

Dave Crying.

So back to the Obs and a quick purchase at the fantastic bookshop they have there and we all decided enough was enough and headed home. Some of us were contented, others still wanted a moan about what could have been, but overall it was a good weekend with good mates and what more can you want.

There's always one though.......

This rare photo depicts Alan Northern asleep whilst birding. Here he dreams as follows:

"If only I'd been awake for the blue cheeked bee-eater"

followed closely by:

"Oh you naughty Pratincoles"

2 x SPAT + SHAT + TWAT = 11

Friday 8th May and the SPATwagon was once more rolling down south for some more birding exploits. With me today were Damon (The Dudekeeper), Matt Meehan (of The Welsh Association of Technobirders) and Alan Northern (Staffs Hoteliers Association of Twitchers aka SHAT).

Originally this trip was to go and look at the Savi's warbler in Essex but seeing as none of us tick on call alone this was not worth the effort as the bird was not really showing itself to the masses. Instead we opted to go for some classic year ticks in Cambs, Suffolk and Norfolk making sure we were in the right place if a mega occurred.

Little Paxton was our first stop. Arriving at 5am we got onto Nightingale immediately and very quickly found out the place was stiff with them. Their song was fantastic but they are skulky LBJ's and it took much patience to locate each bird but once on them we got some fantastic views even close enough to see leg rings on one of them. Both Matt and Damon were happy as this was a lifer for them both. We checked out the pits and got common terns but not the black tern that had been reported the evening before which had obviously cleared out.

Happy Campers after bagging Nightingale.

Celebratory Sausage Rollz

(LtoR: Damon, Alan and Matt)

So where to now, well the Lakenheath area was chosen and about 1hr later we rolled up to a well known site for Stone Curlew which, once one of us was bothered to get a scope out the boot, we locked onto. Another lifer for Matt!

This was beginning to look a bit like ticking by numbers and we jumped back into the wagon and headed to RSPB Lakenheath to try for a fave of mine the Golden Oriole. In the past I have been used to early mornings at Lakenheath being glorious still sunny affairs with views of barn owl and gropper and hobbies,etc. This morning was different, it was blowing a gale and we were all a little bit concerned as to whether we would see anything let alone hear the lovely flutey call of an Oriole. So once I had managed to get all my gear ready (much hilarity was had as the gang watched me try and put my camera bag around my waist and fail over 3 times!) we made our way up onto the main path that runs between the fen and the woodland. OMG!! The winds were fierce, this was not at all good, how on earth were we going to get on any birds? We plodded on and caught up with a very pleasant old chap from Berkshire and he joined us in our romp up to the last plantation where we knew there had been reported 2 male birds. On the way we were lucky to get good views of Hobby, Sparrowhawk, Marsh Harrier, Common Tern and many other marshland species. We walked right to the end of the last plantation and didn't hear a call at all. However, at this point the wind seemed to change direction and blow through the forest towards us. If we were to hear a call now would be best as the wind would blow it to us. After about 10 minutes of intense listening we heard the unmistakable haunting flutey call of a Golden Oriole and it was close by. I pretty much thought I knew the vicinity of where it was coming from and started scanning the trees. As I did so I noticed the smallest fleck of yellow amongst the green poplar leaves. I got my scope out and scanned the area and sure enough this speck of yellow turned out to be a stunning Male Golden Oriole!! Everyone got a look through my scope and then tried themselves to get on it. It took most of the throng a good 5 minutes more to locate the bird in their own scopes but this they did and we were all treated to this bird for over 30 minutes as it sat still keeping out of the wind. This was yet another lifer for Matt and what a way to get one of these!

Can you see it yet? - Look Closer.

So elated we went back to the SPATwagon and had a celebration pork pie each. We checked the bird news and as luck would have it 3 Dotterel had appeared just east of Ringstead so off we sped (via the Wolferton triangle for a fruitless attempt at golden pheasant!) we got to our destination (after a triple by-pass of Ringstead culminating in asking a local posh lady for directions) and subsequently sighted 3 female Dots thus and yet another lifer for Matt!

Remember Spot the ball? This is spot the Dotterel!

On the way back to the car we got on another bird for Matt, a Cornbastard was singing in a nearby hedgerow.

Now for Monty's, we got to the site and found a throng of retried raptor watchers reminiscing and having a picnic whilst vaguely waiting for the Monty's to show. Reliably they informed us of a Male and Female bird. "The female is up in the filed somewhere" and the male "off hunting over the road. So we set up camp. Matt needed something out of the car so off he popped, I piped up "you watch it'll show now" and sure enough the farmer appeared on his quadbike, zoomed up the track and flushed the female who showed for about a minute and went out of sight over the ridge. An agitated Matt then reappeared LOL! Eventually he was put out of his misery and chalked up yet another lifer as the female reappeared and gave us prolonged views.

All these ticks were making us hungry so with Dudewell very nearby we opted for here as our final destination. We headed straight for the tea shop and had a posh sandwich each followed by tea and cake. Then a yomp to the sea and back produced only a few year ticks including Ruff and Eider.

We headed back to the car and then as if by magic the dudekeeper appeared to feed the Robins in the car park.

The Dudekeeper!

So that was that, 11 year ticks, now for the long drive home and a curry for dinner. Oh yes some of us were hardy and stayed the course, others were less hardy:

Who is the hooded dude?

Why it is Friar Matt (TWAT)! - with his liccle cushion LOL

Swift as Sh*t! - tales from the SPATcave.

Sunday afternoon (3rd May) and there I was washing the SPATwagon when an image of a pie shone out in the afternoon sky. The SPATphone rang, it was Yoda, with news of a SPAT emergency. The Pallid swift had been sighted once more at Crosby, the twitch was on (well after I'd cleared it with my wife obviously). 

We sped up to Crosby and was lucky to find a parking space in the rammed car park at the marine park. Immediately we got out the car and The Doc (Mr Brewster of Focalpoint) was there to put us on another lifer (my 3rd that weekend!) and then Malc Curtin arrived to put it in perspective and duely called it a tarts tick lol. Pallid Swift, just like a normal swift but in milk chocolate instead of plain (what do you expect it has just been easter!) For most of the time we followed it well when it went over the distant flats, the light was good here and this allowed us to distinguish the paler bird in the throng. Jizz wise it seemed to soar more than the other swifts and would often hang still catching updraughts. However, once it came directly over our heads and allowed me with my 200mm lens to get a half decent shot (ok my lens ain't big yet but give me my due) the result of which is below.

  Pallid Swift - Oh yes look at my chinny chin chin.

So now we could relax and just as we did we started to enjoy ourselves. We noticed our good friend Archy Archer in full swing, a true professional look at his style in the picture below.

    Archy Archer - On the left - check his technique!

Then suddenly the Dude-atronometer sounded and got to level 9 (OMG!!!!) and panic ensued to get the camera out in time. But luckily I did get a picture of a good reason to buy a bino-arm (see previous post), this guy certainly needed one.

           Captain, I've lost my U-boat!

Then out of the corner of our eyes a car sped into the car park and out shot this young fellow below, all in a panic, was it still here, LOL! Alan of course it was, you never dip ;)

Mr Northern - we can rebuild him - bionic birder.

So another fine twitch, we all got back in the SPATwagon and rounded the bend only to smell something funny. I knew this smell and afterall we had been in dogwalker central on this twitch. Yes I had turned into my alter ego Shitty Shoe Man! It was rank but then with my superbrain and the help of some locals I came up with a plan.......

                                    Can you give them a good clean please mate LOL

Much laughter was heard in the background and these guys wouldn't even take payment, bless them. Don't knock it till you try it ;) 

Dungee Jumping and Portland Peeking - havin a lark on the fly.

Excitement was in the air as the SPATwagon left Shrewsbury at 1 a.m on Friday 1st May. News of a Crested Lark at Dungeness had got us salivating with the thought of a lifer but not only that I personally had the thought of 2 lifers as a Collared Flycatcher was also a possibility in Portland! I needed to be back by 4.30pm to be babysitter so a tight schedule was going to have to be stuck to.

Our good Cheshire friend, Phil Woollen, was my next pick up at 1.30 by the end of the M54. He hopped in and lifted all our spirits with his never ending enthusiasm. Now for the 3.5 hour drive. SatNav had us arriving at 5.10am but we made good time, helped along the way by our fave Pork and Stilton pies, and arrived at Dungemess at 5 with only one other car of birders present.

It was a very misty morning and all you could hear was the glorious sound of the Skylark, but you couldn't see a bloomin thing so essentiallyh we all hads to wait for the sun to come up and start to burn off the mist. Malc Curtin had joined us, he had slept overnight in his motor and was creaking a bit when we met him but once he'd woken up off he went hunting for the lark.

A misty Dungee sunrise.

The local warden showed his face and told us that the Crested Lark seemed to prefer to feed on and around a small "disused" railtrack. It was still misty at this point but several birders went for a look at this track. I had sloped off for a pee in the mist and whilst in full throw thought I could hear a train. I later learned that the disused track was in fact used and several birders , including Malc, had almost been hit by a train!

Eventually the mist cleared and the call went out. Malc had the bird fly over his head and was on it. A sprint over shingle (not nice and knackering) ended with a very good scope view of my first Crested Lark. We were ecstatic and me and Yoda did our customary tick sound in celebration.

The bird was flighty and kept a good distance from the crowd but showed well enough for us all to see its key features. I checked the time, it was 7 ish and I knew it was a 4hr drive to Portland. I was thinking out loud when both Malc and Phil just said "You've got to go for the flycatcher!!!". This made my decision so I rounded up Yoda and Rob and off we went on our next quest!

Twitching has gone off the rails.

It was at this point when our spirits were on a high that we developed a new system for measuring levels of Dudeness. The Dude-atronometer allows birders to now put a value on types of Dude (See example below which shows you possibly the highest level!). We will now be looking at using this device at every twitch and will report back our findings in subsequent posts.

This scores a 10 on the Dude-atronometer!

So Red Bull in hand we motored off toward Portland. Were we going to make it in time for me to then get back to Shrewsbury by 4.30. Portland to Shrewsbury is just over 4 hours, we arrived in Portland at approx 11.40. This gave me about 20 minutes to see the flycatcher. My cohorts had already seen this bird a few days before but had kindly allowed my little indulgence. The crowd were looking expectant, the bird had been seen but not that often and essentially there was only a very narrow viewing angle of the apple trees the bird was using. Approx 50 birders were stood in front of a bungalow looking left into a back garden 2 doors away. The owner of the bungalow was not happy and came out to protest at us "Saddo's". Most of us ignored her, keeping our eye on the prize, I was in a panic by now as the clock in my head was ticking away but luckily for me suddenly the Collared Flycatcher flitted into the top right area of the main apple tree. It then slowly dropped downwards enough to give me a very clear view of its key ID points to be happy with what I'd seen. I turned, fled to the car and set off for home. After 698 miles we rolled up outside my house exactly at 4.29pm. My mission was complete. What a day, 2 Mega's in the bag, 2 lifers each!

However, it could've been 3 if I hadn't been limited on time as on our way back an Eastern Bonelli's Warbler was discovered on Portland Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!! so frustrating.

PIE REVIEW- Grub- Pork,Chicken and Apricot 7/10

As anyone knows, who has ever been birding with the SPAT team, pies play a key part  in any twitch. In the course of this blog we hope to review many pies and offer a comprehensive guide on what to look for in a good one. So here goes, the first review of a pie I found in of all places Waitrose, Sandbach.

Grub are a company whose packaging is obviously aimed to  make you think you are buying into something wholesome  made from good ingredients. For once the claims seem to be true!

This pie oozed quality. Proper chicken, pork and apricot chunks, nice and moist and seasoned well. The pastry was crisp and was made from wholemeal flour which added a nice twist to things. On the top were toasted sunflower seeds (which have the added bonus that they could be used to tempt a rarity to stick if you leave them on site). Also size wise it seemed  slightly larger than the normal hand grenades we are used to. Only one let down, and this is why it only got a 7, there was a large amount of side VAG (Visual Air Gap) where quite frankly there should have been jelly. Maybe one day they will address this and make this pie into the best you can buy from a supermarket.

Even still, it didn't touch the sides and tasted great!