Magic Moths

The black of night had settled like a velvet blanket over the gardens and houses, an occasional car or shout from a late night reveller occasionally breaking the silence. Against this blackness one garden glows, illuminated by a powerful bulb with a slightly pinkish purple hue, the leaves, flowers and fence line brilliantly defined in light. Overhead small creatures flit, mere shadows against the brilliance, some so tiny they are barely visible, the larger ones creating a buzzing noise with the flap of their wings. Moths. Circling, homing in on the light, a natural orientation reaction. Round and round they fly, until they drop into a box beneath. Here, as dawn approaches the moths head for the dark places amongst the egg boxes placed there for such a purpose.

With daylight it is time to sift through our catch, gently lifting the egg boxes out and removing our treasure into small pots, to be examined, identified and the released back into the garden.

A little worn, but still a beauty. A Buff Ermine

So often maligned as small, brown and boring, moths show a huge variety of shapes, size and colour, with even those that appear just brown having subtle patterns and beauty… if you have the patience to see it.

Occasionally amongst these subtle moths there is a beauty…like a buff ermine, or a swallow prominent, and occasionally there is a beast…like a privet hawkmoth.

May be a beast, but also a beauty. A Privet Hawkmoth

Today’s catch consisted of 68 moths of 21 different species. The most common being large yellow underwing, but interesting species included a brimstone moth, two nutmegs and a rather cool spectacle. 

A rather cool Spectacle

A Mini Roost

Dusk was falling over the reed bed at Cranwich, the sky a washed out pale blue, the hazy clouds highlighted by brilliant gold lending definition to the swirling edges. As the evening progressed the sky turned dusky pink. Once again the site is flooded, the dark water rising over the banks and creating rivers along the paths that shimmer in the evening light. 

The sun setting over Cranwich

As dusk settled around two nets cutting through the reeds a boom box played the calls of swallows. At this time of year this summer migrant starts to flock together, roosting in reed beds  getting ready for their long journey south. It is the perfect time to catch them in large numbers. 

With the nets set and the sound of swallows floating out across the reeds we retreated to wait. Around us the reed bed settled into the night shift, small birds darted between the trees looking for a safe place to slumber, jackdaws called noisily, a hobby zipped past, a mere shadow in the evening light. The bugs came out to play, buzzing around our heads, tickling arms, ears and noses. While some birds were heading for bed, others were waking up... the kewik of a male tawny owl answered by the hoouh....ho, ho ho hoooouh of the female. Silently the silhouette of an owl swoops overhead, black on dark blue...

With just enough light left to see we returned to the net, and there seemingly waiting patiently were four birds, one juvenile reed warbler and three swallows. Not a large roost catch, but a catch non the less. 

A young swallow by torch light

By the light of torches, surrounded by the blackness and stillness of the night we took a look at our catch, and we were pleased to see two young swallows along with a glorious adult female. It has been a such a poor breeding season for so many birds, with swallows one of the hardest hit as the rain deluged the country and the insect population faltered. With these two young birds comes the knowledge that at least some have managed to fledge, the prayer that they will make it back next year and the hope that next summer will be drier.... 

The Med in Norfolk

The sky beyond the houses along Great Yarmouth's seafront was dark blue grey, while above the beach the sun was playing hide and seek behind whitish clouds. As it broke out from behind the clouds its brightness and warmth spread over the yellow pebbly sand, turning the sea a deep turquoise blue. Tiny waves rolled down the strand line, white water sparkling. 

I bury my bare feet in the sand, wriggling my toes feeling the grains tickling between them. Shading my eyes from the bright glare, I can see the group of gulls gathering in front of me. Their bright white feathers and bright red legs and bills dazzle in the sunlight. The black on their heads is starting to moult creating a mottled appearance, on some only a smudge of black remains behind the eye. 

A beautiful Mediterranean gull...check out that ring!

But these are not your usual black-headed gulls, that in fact have chocolate brown heads and are so often seen along the coast and inland in parks. These are Mediterranean Gulls. This beautiful, clean looking gull is predominantly a southern European species, breeding in continental Europe and mostly wintering in the Mediterranean. Every year a few hundred breed in Britain but it is mainly a winter visitor to our shores. Absent from the beach in Great Yarmouth  through the summer, the birds have been returning over the last couple of weeks or so and will spend most of the winter here. 

On the legs of some of this group is something that provides an hint of where these birds are coming from. At least four are ringed with metal rings and two have additional colour rings which make it easier to identify individuals in the field. 

Mediterranean gull with green colour ring AJCA

The first bird has a green colour ring with white letters AJCA and the second a white colour ring with black letters 32E2. So where are they from? A simple email to the colour ring coordinator for small gulls provided some answers...

Green AJCA (blue pin) was originally ringed as a chick in 2006 on a small island in the Elbe estuary beyond Hamburg in Germany! While white 32E2 (red pin) was ringed as a chick in 2008 in Belgium! Both birds have regularly been wintering on the east coast of Britain over the last few years. Such sightings information from colour ringed birds is providing invaluable information about the movements and population dynamics of Mediterranean gulls in Europe. It is clear that the east coast of Britain is providing important wintering habitat for this expanding population...my sightings are just one more piece in this giant puzzle.

View Med Gulls in a larger map

Percy, or whatever its name is...

Herring gulls call out harshly from the roof of the buildings where they are nesting. Against the bright blue sky and blazing heat of the sun the sound is quintessential of the British seaside in summer. They are certainly not everyone’s favourite bird, stealing the ice cream or fish and chips from right under your nose, or to put it politely pooping on you when you are rushing for a doctor’s appointment…

The more typical view of a herring gull...

For me every species has its place, a part to play on this earth and every individual has a right to life even if that means getting a little help from us.

At this time of year young herring gulls, fully feathered but not quite able to fly start wandering over sand, stone or roof. Roaming, but not too far, calling whenever the adults reappear and begging for food. Sometimes these wanderings can land a youngster in trouble, especially if they become separated from the adults.

One particularly adventurous young herring gull ended up falling down between two buildings. Unable to fly up the one metre or so back to the main roof, it was not clear whether the adults were able to get down to feed the stranded youngster. After at least a day, I climbed out, scooped up the bird and popped him back up on the roof. There were adults around and a frenzy of noise greeted the young bird. However within five minutes it had fallen back down. With the weekend approaching I did not want to take the risk of leaving the bird with no source of food or water, and so took the decision to take the bird to a wildlife sanctuary. Unfortunately they could not come and collect, so I took Percy (named by one colleague to prevent anything more negative happening) or Icarus (named by another colleague for its falling ability) home until the morning when I would take it to the sanctuary.

Ten minutes into the drive home and the bird had pushed its way out of the box, and was perched on the seat watching the scenery flash by, much the amusement of the young girl in the car opposite. Alas this is not how I planned to transfer this young adventurer, not least for the sake of my car seats. Having pulled over and returned the bird to the box, placing a blanket on top to prevent any further acts of Houdini, the remainder of the journey proved uneventful with only the odd toe tapping indicating my passengers presence.

Percy or Icarus... 

An uneventful night followed with white fish providing a tasty dinner and breakfast, before we delivered this youngster to P.A.C.T wildlife sanctuary. Here the bird joined three other wayward young herring gulls, where they will stay until ready for release back at the coast…

P.A.C.T Wildlife Sanctuary near Hingham, Norfolk

Wet Suited and Booted

I am lying on one of the only patches of dry grass at Cranwich, eyes closed and listening to the sounds of the reed bed around me. The sun is warm on my face, the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and the reeds. I hear pigeons cooing in the woods behind, the rattling song of a reed warbler nearby. A dragonfly zips past me, its wings flutter with a distinctive sound, like crumpling plastic. I open my eyes as a honking group of geese whoosh overhead. I catch sight of a beautiful comma butterfly delicately perched on the head of a pale purple thistle; its wings deep orange and boldly black.

Comma butterfly enjoying the sunshine

For once I am overdressed in my waders, and I am relegated to the dwindling banks. The volume of rain this summer has finally taken its toll. The network of tracks between the pools are flooded with knee deep water and running streams. The bridges along the net rides simply float, no longer attached to the banks. Where once you could wade through the fringe of reeds in water up to your hips it was now up to your neck and wetsuits were the order of the day.

The flooded tracks

I can hear Lee and Dave in the reed bed, not wading to the nests but swimming! The water is cold, you can tell from the pitch of their voices. Searching is not easy with most of the markers under water and the whole landscape within the reeds altered. 

At the far end of the site only nests greater than 80 cm above the original water level have survived, most are below this. Submerged, the nests look ghost-like in the green water. It is sad to see them empty or worse...

But it is not all carnage and devastation as we come across some nests perilously close to the waters surface but with chicks alive inside and still with a chance of fledging...

So close to the edge...but surviving

One more brood of reed warblers successfully ringed
by the wet suited and booted Lee and Dave

Wiltshire Born and Bred

The truck roared along the country roads, weaving its way through fields of greenish yellow wheat, sandy yellow barley and deep green pastures. Heading off road and onto a muddy track  the truck effortlessly wove its way along the field margins, squelching through muddy pools. Poppy's added a splash of brilliant colour along these edges, brightening the dreary morning cast by leaden skies. Swifts swept low over the wheat, skimming the heads with the tips of their  pointed wings, skylarks fluttered up from their nests, hidden in the crops and the calls of yellow wagtail and corn bunting rang out. 

Ahead, farm buildings stand stark grey and brown against the rolling greens, browns and yellows of the fields. Here small wooden boxes line up along the side of the buildings, in the small woods nearby and on fence posts. They provide perfect nesting space for a rather special farmland bird, the tree sparrow. 

A room with a view...
Tree sparrow box overlooking the Wiltshire countryside

Opening the lid reveals a dome of grass and feathers, a small opening at the top reveals a cup within which the chicks are nestled. With a stubby little face and chocolate brown feathers starting to poke through, the chicks are some of the cutest ugly babies I have seen. Once ringed, the chicks are 'posted' back through the nest hole where they disappear into the comforting darkness.

Tree sparrow chick

A little older and almost ready to leave the nest

The long term project here aims to understand their breeding ecology. Year after year the boxes are checked, the contents recorded and the chicks ringed. It is a mammoth task, but well worth it with the data generated being used to answer numerous questions about this declining species. A huge thank you to the maestro running this project and collecting this data, Mr Matt Prior! 

Lee and Matt Prior in classic photo pose!

Stand Up For Whales

When I was five or six my mum and dad took me to Windsor Safari Park. There with my face pressed against the wooden slats of a gate I saw a mysterious creature pass by in a murky blue beyond. This was my first ever sight of a bottlenose dolphin. I don’t remember the actual display, but as I was walking out, gripping my dad’s hand and circling around the sterile blue water and harsh stone of the pool, a dolphin popped up right next to me. It felt like there was no one else around, it felt like the dolphin was saying ‘hello’ just to me. From that moment, that dolphin started a passion in me, a passion for whales, dolphins and porpoises.

A pod of Fraser's dolphin

I started to learn as much about them as possible, my six year old self even wrote a book about them. I learnt about the different types and read stories of people’s experiences. I was captivated and inspired. As I got older, I became more aware of the threats these amazing creatures face, including being kept in captivity.

My first encounter with wild dolphins was in the Moray Firth, when a pod of bottlenose dolphins came steaming along the coastline and I  bounced up and down excitedly in the hire car. From Wales, to Mull, New Zealand to Africa, to Iceland and across the Bay of Biscay, I loved watching, learning and inspiring others.

A passion that led me to guiding and inspiring others

Thirty years ago we ‘saved the whales’ when following public outcry and ‘save the whale’ campaigns, the International Whaling Commission adopted a moratorium on commercial whaling… and yet in a way we failed. Japan, Iceland and Norway continue whaling under the guise of ‘scientific research’. Even in the last few weeks South Korea has announced plans to resume ‘scientific whaling’; claiming the research is needed for proper assessment of minke whale stocks.

Many whale populations continue to decline, or show little signs of recovery. For many dolphin and whale populations we know so little they are listed as Data Deficient on the IUCN Red List. Over 1000 whales and dolphins continue to die every day, facing threats from whaling, bycatch, pollution, habitat loss and direct takes to name a few.

And yet, research continues to show that these mammals are highly intelligent, social creatures with complex behaviours and vocal communications. Creatures that show a range of emotions and self awareness, that have developed tool use, that can learn new behaviours and teach them to their young, that have culture…

How can we have claim to have saved the whales, and yet in the last few years we have even lost a species? The Yangtze river dolphin, or Baji, has gone, many others such as the Vaquita, a porpoise found only in the Sea of Cortez, is on the brink.

So what do we do? How do we ensure that our children and our children’s children have the chance to see a blue whale, the largest animal to ever live on our planet, or to see a pod of thousands of dolphins making the sea boil, or even to see a harbour porpoise roll through the waves…

The majestic blue whale

We stand up once again for whales and dolphins… 

The stage is set for a new global partnership willing to take action to protect whales and dolphins, and that stage is The World Whale Conference and WhaleFest 2012. Here Planet Whale Nation will be launched, a new global community that welcomes everybody to share their ideas for the benefit of whale and dolphins.

All of us, no matter where we live, what we do or where we come from can make a difference.

Find out more about The World Whale Conference and WhaleFest 2012, including how to volunteer, buy tickets or simply join the Planet Whale Nation Pledge at the Planet Whale website.