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"
