Its not just about wildlife

Ringing expeditions are not just an opportunity to see, handle and learn about new species of birds. They are an opportunity to meet new people, to learn about new cultures and immerse yourself in the local landscape and community. And in many cases it is an opportunity to give something back. In The Gambia, the Kartong Bird Observatory not only aims to study bird populations and migration but to raise community awareness and understanding of the environment and the economic benefits of biodiversity conservation.

Through strong community links the observatory team sponsors local students and a football team. Each year three or four lads help with the ringing course, carrying kit, helping to cut net lines and setting nets. At the same time the boys are taught about ringing, birds and conservation.

Teaching Ernest and Alieu about birds and bird ringing

For me nothing means getting involved with the local community than visiting the school. Each time I have visited Kartong as part of the ringing team, I have taken time out to go and visit the local school, and nothing beats it. The first year I visited we were surrounded by smiling faces in the playground.  

Surrounded by smiling faces (well mostly!) at the school (Photo: Laura Blackburn)

This year they were all in class, one of which we were invited to sit in on. What a memory, 20 or so little people all clamouring for us to sit next to them, then singing, clapping and dancing their way through the alphabet. It was a privilege and honour to join in watching their little eager faces as they worked their way through a song associated with each letter.

Singing in class!

I left that classroom feeling elated, what an incredible experience and something I will remember just as much as ringing a vulture, pied kingfisher or any other bird. 

The Western P's

The Western Palaearctic, part of the Palaearctic ecozone, one of eight zones that divide this planet’s surface. The Western Palaearctic encompasses Europe, North Africa, the northern and central parts of the Arabian Peninsula and a small part of Asia to the Ural Mountains. Here many birds are resident, sticking year round in the same place or undertaking short distance movements in search of food or to escape inclement weather. Some undertake migrations of reasonable distances, in Britain our winter landscape often becomes dominated with thrushes like redwings and fieldfares that head over from Scandinavia. Even common birds we think of as being here year round, blackbirds and starlings for example are bolstered by continental counterparts.

The Western Palaearctic - Wikipedia

Then there are birds that migrate long distances, not just heading for the Mediterranean but continuing down into Africa, crossing one of the largest and hottest deserts in the world to reach central Africa and beyond. It is truly incredible to think that such tiny, seemingly delicate birds such as the willow warbler, chiffchaff, whitethroat and barn swallow are making such treacherous journeys.

There are other birds also, that you may not automatically think of as migrants, waders including turnstone, sanderling, bar-tailed godwits, whimbrels, common sandpipers… all birds we associate perhaps with winter in Britain but all birds that have populations that will also migrate further to Africa. Not to mention the terns and other seabirds which breed around our coast and then migrate and winter off the coast of Africa.

Many of the migrant birds that call the Western Palaearctic home for at least some of the year are declining. The reasons are numerous and complex, an interaction of events and habits both on their breeding grounds, winter grounds and anywhere in between. We are now realising we need to find out where these birds are going and what is happening to them when they leave our temperate shores.

Where do these birds go exactly to winter? Do they return to the same places year after year? Which routes do they take when they migrate? Do different populations go to different places or the same? Do they move around when on their wintering grounds? What kind of threats do they face while there?

Just one of the ways these questions are being answered is by ringing in Africa, and this is one of the key objectives of the Kartong Bird Observatory in The Gambia.

So while out there our team targeted as much habitat for Western Palaearctic birds, including reed beds and scrub, as well as attempts for terns and waders. The effort of slogging through knee deep water, cutting rides through reed beds, getting scratched by Acacia trees quickly paid off; 280 Western P’s as we affectionately called them were caught and processed. Some had already been ringed before; including a reed warbler with a Spanish ring on it.

Intrepid ways of getting nets into reed beds - using a boat!

From species we know from home like sedge and reed warblers to whitethroats, to those that maybe more unusual in Britain but are common throughout the Mediterranean including Bonnelli’s and Melodious warblers. Waders like common and wood sandpipers, and snipe, lots and lots of snipe.

But certainly the stars of the Western P show were the blue-cheeked bee-eaters. When you think of Western P’s you don’t automatically think of these, but they do in fact breed along the north coast of Africa and parts of the Middle East, before migrating south to central and southern Africa.

The usual view of blue-cheeked bee-eaters

In The Gambia we watch them from the middle of the morning to mid-afternoon, swooping and circling in large flocks. We see them sit on the branches of trees before taking off with a flick of the wings, soaring again through a brilliant blue sky. In the past we watched with wonder, these are not the type of bird to blunder into most nets as they keep to the skies and tops of trees. They the emblem of the Kartong Bird Observatory, and it was an emotional day when in 2011 we caught the very first one. Since then the odd one has been caught on the odd occasion.

That was until one hot day in January 2014. As the morning progressed a huge flock of 400 bee-eaters began circling overhead, dipping down to take insects off the glittering surface. And here we spotted an opportunity. Until now the birds had not responded to a tape playing their calls, but with so many birds calling to each other, and the presence of food this time it just might work. So with two nets open and a tape playing between we sat back to watch and wait. Minutes later the crackled message came back over the radio at base. Bee-eaters in the net, not one or two, but loads. It had worked!

Collecting blue-cheeked bee-eaters from the net

And so like a well-oiled machine, the team worked together to remove birds from the net, ferry them back to base and to ring and process them. In total 70 birds were caught giving us an opportunity to get some good data on moult and aging with some many birds to compare. And with the technique for catching them seemingly sussed who knows how many more we may catch in future and what we may learn….

For now lets stick with piccies of Western P's from The Gambia 2014:

Photo Gallery by QuickGallery.com

African Adventure

Standing in a reed bed, knee deep in water, gazing up at a starry sky while setting a long line of mist nets. Wading across flooded pools, past lily pads with startling white flowers while keeping a wary eye out for crocodiles and deep wells. Waiting for sunrise and the bats to disappear to roost, with whistling ducks calling in long skeins over head. Setting nets through spiky bushes and finding the gaps between thorny Acacia trees. Sitting on a hot beach, a blue green sea twinkling beyond the white sand, gulls flying overhead and the constant melee of a busy fishing village, waiting for a canon net to fire. Treading carefully through the dark, scanning with a torch looking out for the reflected glint of light in a nightjar’s eye. Waiting hidden in the cool shade, watching vultures land on bait, then running, a quick dash over shifting sand to stop any bird escaping from the net fired over the top of them. This is ringing, Gambian style. 

White-faced Whistling Ducks 

Twelve wonderful, hot, sunny, tiring, hard working days of ringing at the Kartong Bird Observatory, The Gambia.

In the reeds and across the pools, we caught waders from Senegal thicknees, to snipe, African jacanas to spur wing plovers. Pied kingfishers, while occasionally teasing us and perching on top of the poles, were also caught in good numbers. Great reed warbler, painted snipe, malachite kingfishers, black faced quailfinch to name but a few of the colourful birds Africa had to offer. In the spiky scrub a whole different suite of birds, from northern red and yellow fronted bishops, red billed quelea and oriole warblers to lavender waxbills and red cheeked cordon bleus. Bold and brash, red crowed gonaleks let everyone know of their presence, while black crowned tchagra (a kind of shrike) garnered a high level of respect so as to avoid that hooked bill! Grey, cardinal and golden tailed woodpeckers provide an extra treat, while more unusual birds (in terms of catching) include lesser and greater honeyguide, Diedrick and Klaas's cuckoo.

Yellow-crowned Gonalek

And everywhere and anywhere; weavers. Bitey, scatchy and all looking similar they are some ringers nightmare. And while yes they can prove a challenge, not only in identifying but in managing a catch of them – very often you can approach a single net with 50-60 weavers in it - they are also pretty cool in this ringers opinion. Village, yellow backed and Heuglins masked weaver formed the bulk of the catches. But a few little weavers and stunning (even in non breeding plumage) black-necked weavers also added to the mix. 

Black-necked Weavers -
far left adult female, middle juvenile, far right adult male

Then on the beach, the smell of smoking fish strong in the air, the sound of hundreds of local people bringing in the wooden fishing boats, transferring and gutting fish, fixing nets and building new boats. Amongst it all a bang that either brings them over or at least makes them look up from their work. A canon net, fired over a group of grey headed gulls. Surrounded by a crowd of interest the birds are gathered and ringed. While on team works through the gulls, another is catching red chested swallows that are swooping in and out of the buildings. More locals look on rather bemused, or come over to see what we are doing. Flick netting, a simple technique of basically a mobile mist net, carried by two people and hoisted up in different locations as the bird passes by. Simple, yet effective for species like swallows. 

Grey-headed Gull

Then, and not for those with a sensitive disposition, there are the vultures. Thinking about what vultures eat it is not surprising or hard to imagine what they smell like! In a word - disgusting. Yet it is worth the effort. Vultures worldwide are experiencing dramatic declines. Here in Gambia the numbers of hooded vultures seems pretty good, but there is loads we can learn about them through ringing and tagging. For this species in addition to the metal ring, we added a large colour ring to the leg and a tag on the wing. This means re-sightings data can be more easily obtained without having to capture these smelly birds again. 

Ringing and tagging Hooded Vultures

And so to the stealth of catching a nightjar…. The beam of a torch light slices through the pitch black, illuminating bushes, rocks and dusty roads. Under a bush or out in the open, the reflective glint of two eyes shines back. Slowly, carefully, quietly we approach, net at the ready. It takes team work to approach close enough and to then to catch the bird. It is worth it; here we are gaining exceptional data on long-tailed nightjar moult and aging. 

Long-tailed Nightjar

And this is all just the African species… part of the focus of the ringing out here is to catch Western Palearctic (i.e. Europe, North Africa and parts of the Arabian peninsula) species that migrate to and from central and southern Africa. Well that’s a whole other story…..

But before that...more pretty pictures!

Photo Gallery by QuickGallery.com

Return of the bramblings

Another Christmas was over, full of delicious food, fabulous presents and wonderful family. Of course the first thing we do once the family has returned to the mother-land (in this case Wales) is to get up before dawn (not too much of an issue at this time of year) and head out ringing. Sunshine and breezey, not the best combination for ringing but good enough to see what the Farm has to offer. 

Turns out that finally the bramblings have returned to the feeders. With the mild winter thus far many of the finches that make this such a special site have stayed away, feeding in the wider landscape of the forest. With food finally starting to dwindle large numbers had returned to the feeders in the garden of the Farm, with the walk in trap in particular working effectively to catch these beautiful birds. 

We know bramblings breed in Scandinavia and Northern Russia, and then migrate south to the UK and southern Europe for winter. We have even caught a bird in the past with a Norwegian ring on it... But when they migrate which routes do they take? Do birds coming to the UK, and our Farm in particular, cross over to Scotland and then south? Or do they fly down through Europe before heading over the North Sea? And once again, ringing is helping to solve the puzzle. 

Male brambling originally ringed in Helgoland, Germany

Today among the 15 or so bramblings we caught, one, just one had a ring on that read Helgoland. Helgoland, a small group of islands located off the coast of Germany with their own ringing scheme. At some point in the recent past (OK I sound like a Doctor Who episode now!) someone on that group of islands caught a male brambling, either on its way south for the winter or returning north to breed. Now, on a mild, breezey, sunny winters day that very bird was caught in our trap in a Suffolk garden!

Night Visitor

Night had fallen on the fields and woodland, the deepest and darkest black of the trees silhouetted against the inky black of the night sky where stars twinkled only briefly from behind the breaks in cloud cover. The only sound was the soft snorting of a horse from the nearby paddock, the gentle swish of sheep moving through the grass of the next field and the soft low murmurs of two people standing by the hedge waiting. Out of the darkness comes a loud, almost harsh ‘hoouh…ho ho ho hoouhhh’ the song of a tawny owl. The harshness comes from the tape, it is a little unnatural, but it has the desired effect.

In the near distance, from unseen trees beyond the fields comes the slightly softer, more natural song of a real tawny owl. Responding to the tape as a threat to establishing its breeding territory the vocal battle rages. But the owl comes no closer, content to keep its distance and keep hooting in response, waiting to see whether this intruder will enter its territory. In the trees nearby there is a single hoot and then….nothing. The distant owl continues to hoot and keep its distance.

The ringers decide to try their luck elsewhere, not wanting to upset this one owl too much. Silently they walk back to the top of the field and out of the darkness the outline of the poles, guy strings and very faintly the net, comes into focus. But there is something else there too. Hanging, quite still, is a roundish shape that was not there before. It is not until the ringers are right up to the net that the shape takes form, it is an owl! Careful to avoid strong talons and beak, the owl is removed to some choice words to the effect of ‘oh we seem to have caught one!’

Oh what a bird. Beautiful streaked and mottled feathers of innumerable shades of brown to grey, so soft to the touch. Tiny white feathers cover the legs all the way to the gripping talons. A wide round face split by a narrow dark wedge that reaches the curved bill; with mysterious black eyes like two deep unending pools. It is sturdy yet light; it does not fight but holds itself proud and upright. Its eyes close at the inevitable light needed for processing but it is magnificent. Such grace and silent stealth encompassed in one beautiful bird. Closer examination reveals a comb-like leading edge to the flight feathers which breaks down the turbulence created as the wing moves through the air, muffling the sound and creating silent flight.

Oh the magnificent tawny owl

With the ringing process complete we turn off all lights allowing the bird to regain its night vision. On releasing it, the owl seems to pause for a second before leaning forward, opening its beautiful rounded wings and disappearing into the black of the night.

Coming so close to such wild natural beauty, glimpsing its secrets even for only an instant, sends a shiver down my back….

Catch of the Day

Dawn breaks over the cold beach at Great Yarmouth. The sun’s rays splintering between broken clouds, the lights of the sea front buildings twinkle in the remaining darkness that slowly fills with diffuse morning light. The sand shifts under foot as the group makes its way, laden with gear, to the tide line. Warm breath steaming in the cold air, slowly a large net is stretched out and then furled into a shallow trench in the sand. Canons are buried and the net attached. A long blue cable is wheeled out to a safe distance where a box with switches and buttons reminiscent of a space station sits in the sand. The group disperses to wait. Bait in the form of soaked bread is scattered into the catching area, with dry bits flung into the air in order to attract our quarry. Gulls. But not just any gulls, Mediterranean Gulls.

A beautiful adult Mediterranean Gull

Back in August 2012 a Wild Barley post called The Med in Norfolk discussed the sighting of colour ringed Mediterranean Gulls sighted from this very beach in Great Yarmouth. From such sightings we know that birds ringed in Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany regularly cross the North Sea and spend the winter on our shores. But not all birds on the beach are colour ringed. What about the others? Are they all coming from these countries or from other locations throughout Europe? Do all the birds wintering in Great Yarmouth return to the same places? Now a group of ringers, and birders who regularly come to Great Yarmouth to read the rings of gulls on the beach, are embarking on a new project in order to find out.

The morning progresses; the sea front comes to life with dog walkers and workers making their way to offices, shops, cafes and bars throughout the town which at this time of year is sleepy and quiet. The birds sit in groups away down the beach, occasionally one shows a brief interest in our offering. We wait, and wait. Catching birds in this way, using a canon to fire a net over the top of the birds is not undertaken lightly. Ringers undergo rigorous and lengthy training in order to obtain this licence.

Suddenly there is a loud ‘bang’ and without even looking up the team starts sprinting across the sand to the birds now trapped under the net. Legs pumping, straining against the sand, the runners arrive (yes definitely out of breath) at the net, preventing birds from escaping and starting to remove them from beneath the mesh.

The canon net fires over the group of gulls trapping them beneath © David Pelling

Each bird is bagged, and then ringed with a uniquely numbered metal ring as well as a plastic alpha-numeric colour ring. The birds are aged, their wings measured and they are weighed before being released back along the beach.

A success! The catch has 13 new Mediterranean Gulls with a variety of different aged birds; adults with their clean grey backs, brilliant white wings, deep red bill and legs and smudge of black around the head; a second year bird with remnants of black in the wing feathers; and first year birds, those that have been born this year, with brown feathers scattered amongst the grey of the wings and back.

The three ages of Mediterranean Gull;
first year, second year and adult (left to right) © David Pelling

In addition to these there are three birds with rings on already, all of which herald from Belgium.

Once all the birds are processed and released, the net is set again, and after a cup of steaming hot chocolate to warm the cockles and the fingers, the wait begins again in the hope of a second catch. Almost at the point of accepting one catch for the day, the net is once again fired and once again the team races across the sand to collect the birds. A smaller catch this time, but still another two Mediterranean Gulls ringed and added to the total for this, the projects inaugural catch. 

A Wild Whale Chase

It’s not every day your colleague comes into work and says he has seen a humpback whale from his sofa! And living in Norfolk this absolutely never happens as this whale has never been recorded here, that is until now! 

Humpback whales are widely distributed throughout the world's oceans, undertaking long distance migrations between winter tropical breeding grounds and high latitude feeding grounds during the summer. Over the last 10 years or so their numbers worldwide have also been increasing. Good news as they recover from commercial hunting.

The unmistakable humpback whale (not the Norfolk whale but a humpy non the less)

In British waters the humpback whale is an unusual sight, although the number of sightings is increasing and it is now regularly recorded along the western coasts of Britain, from Shetland, the north Irish Sea and the western approaches to the Channel. These individuals are likely to be part of the population that migrates from the west coast of Africa, north to off the coast of Iceland and Norway (Sea Watch Foundation, 2012). There are also more and more reports of whales from the northern and central North Sea.

One of the great things about working for a department filled with marine wildlife enthusiasts is that we are all in the same ‘boat’ so to speak...we love watching whales and dolphins and when something like this turns up on your doorstep we have the flexibility to just go! Well I was going at any rate!

Stormy clouds and rain did not deter us as we wound our way along the narrow roads of the Norfolk coast. Reports of the whale were still coming in; it seemed to be feeding a short distance from the shore, slowly moving northwards. By the time we pulled up in the small village of Sea Palling the sun had broken loose, driving the cloud and rain away. Climbing up the sand dunes we were met with people carrying scopes, heading the other way. ‘It’s moved further north’ were the words, with which we did an about turn and headed back to the car. More winding roads and one diversion later we pulled into the windswept car park of Happisburgh and were greeted by a small crowd of people and their scopes. Surely a good sign.

Standing there at the top of a dune, gazing out at a murky North Sea, the sun casting various shades of blue across the choppy surface, and the guy standing next to me, his eye glued to his scope, finally shouts ‘there it is!’. Me with my binoculars scanning however could see nothing but waves, occasional spray and gannets. It was moving offshore, its blow merging with the white caps and without a scope there was not much hope. Maybe, for me, it was not meant to be.

Turns out this whale found the food and water off the Norfolk coast rather appealing. The next morning it was seen again, following the same route and pattern; close to shore moving northwards. We may miss it; it may be far offshore again by the time we get there; but if you never try, you never know; you can guarantee you won't see it sat at your desk. Such words swirl round my head as we drive back along the winding roads, this time to Horsey. Climbing the dunes once more and gazing out at a calm blue sea, we are greeted by the unmistakable blow, back and hump of a humpback whale! Taking no chances this time I have borrowed a telescope, and while at first it is close enough to see with the naked eye, gradually the whale moves further offshore and the scope lets me follow it....

Scoping out a humpback whale from the North Norfolk Coast