Meeting a Legend - Sir David Attenborough!

I am sitting on a wooden bench over looking the grassy field and pools of Cranwich. The wind roars through the leaves of the trees and the reeds at the edge of the pools, the sound rising and falling in intensity like a crowd at a football match cheering when their favourite player gets the ball. Overhead, against a sky various shades of grey, swifts swoop and dive. Despite the unsettled weather there is an air of excitement about the site as we wait for a very special guest to arrive. 

Ask anyone who they most admire in the world of Natural History and documentaries, and there is just one name on their lips. Sir David Attenborough. For over 60 years he has been the face and voice of British natural history programmes, giving us some of the most memorable television moments. For me the moment a blue whale surfaced right next to Sir David as he sat in a small boat is one of the most inspiring pieces of footage. The look on his face and the excitement in his voice, mirrors what I feel when I get up close to those magnificent creatures (http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p004t035).

So for him to come to our little patch of reeds in the middle of the Norfolk countryside to do some filming is a dream come true. It was not only the chance to meet him, it was the opportunity to watch him work. 

Having a chat about reed warblers, cuckoos and all sorts (Photo Kate Risely)

The filming for the series Natural Curiosities focused reed warblers and cuckoos, discussing the evoluntionary 'arms race' between the reed warbler host and the cuckoo parasite. From mimicking the egg to mimicking the sound of a whole brood of chicks, the cuckoo aims to trick the reed warbler into raising its offspring for it. The reed warbler responds by guarding the nest mobbing any cuckoo if it gets too close. 

As the morning progressed we watched as David and the team worked, being on hand to offer any advice or help that was required. It was privilege to watch him work, to hear that voice offer explanations for one of natures most curious relationships. 

Sir David at work

and I now have my own most memorable David Attenborough moment, beyond meeting him... 

during one break as we all sat in the long grass keeping out of the reflection in the window of the small hut in front of which they were filming, sitting on the bench where just hours before we had waited in anticipation, David looked at us and said 'you remind me of a pride of lions watching me'

oh to be compared to a pride of lions by the man himself....

Happy Team! (Photo Kate Risely)

The World Cetacean Alliance

Today (8^th June) is World’s Ocean Day, a chance to celebrate the ocean and all the creatures that live within it. This year also sees the launch of the World Cetacean Alliance, a new partnership of businesses, charities and individuals dedicated to whales and dolphins. The aim is to create a network to represent these beautiful creatures and bring together all those who fight to protect them. It is only by working together that we stand a chance of saving these amazing animals.

Led by Honorary President Jean-Michel Cousteau, the partners come from all over the world, made up of experts, charities and whale watch businesses and ME! Yes the little girl who met a dolphin, fell in love and has followed her heart ever since. From whale watch guide, to researcher, to marine mammal observer, now a partner in the World Cetacean Alliance. 

Rachael Barber - proud partner of the World Cetacean Alliance

I may be just one individual with a passion for whales and dolphins, but that’s the point - everyone has the right to have their say in the important decisions affecting whales and dolphins, the more people stand up and shout for whales and dolphins, the more likely we are to be heard.

The World Cetacean Alliance is the next step from the Save The Whales Reloaded campaign that was launched at WhaleFest in 2012. The partners will continue to work alongside supporters in order to unite all the people, organisations, charities and businesses who are working for cetaceans worldwide.

The founding partners of the World Cetacean Alliance from around the world

Our first aim is to identify Areas of Concern for whales and dolphins; by using a free online survey and mapping tool we want to encourage everyone, the general public, marine users, conservationists, scientists to identify an area, species, or issue that is of concern to them.

At the launch of the Save The Whales Reloaded campaign three critical issues have already been identified;

- Saving the critically endangered Maui’s dolphin in New Zealand

- Releasing the wild orca Morgan from Loro Parque in Teneriefe

- Protecting the Southern Ocean/Ross Sea from whaling and other destructive practices

Only 55 Maui's dolphin remain - just one of the first three critical issues identifiedã Steve Dawson NABU International

Focusing on these three issues the World Cetacean Alliance intends to raise further awareness in the international community, to identify stakeholders prepared to assist us in finding solutions and to submit more evidence to the relevant authorities of the widespread concern for these.

I am so proud to be involved with the World Cetacean Alliance – I am standing side by side with people who are as passionate about whales and dolphins as I am, and who are willing to stand up and do something about it.

To find out more please visit the Save The Whales Reloaded website, here you can also take the survey and map your Area of Concern.

We can all make a difference, we just need to make our voices heard, the World Cetacean Alliance is the tool to make that happen.   

Friend or foe

The garden in Wales is bulging with life, the hedgerow bristles with tiny green leaves, dunnocks and house sparrows scurry through its maze of branches. The borders brim with flowers and leaves of every colour. Grasses sway in the gentle breeze. It may have been a slow start but it seems spring really was in full swing. The grass in the fields beyond was thick, lush and green, scattered with brilliant yellow dandelions and delicate white daisies. Swallows dip low over the tops of the flowers and grass catching insects on the wing. The trees, bushes and air were alive with bird song. Close at hand great tit, chaffinch and robin sing from the garden, across the fields the distinctive song of a chiffchaff floats across the sunny sky.

The garden in full bloom, mist nets at the ready!

House sparrows continually flit back and forth from the nest boxes on the side of the house, stopping only briefly to feed their chicks before darting away to find more food. At the other end of the house in another box, a blue tit is snuggled into her nest of moss and feathers, warming her clutch of eggs. The calm before the frenzied storm of feeding nine tiny mouths.

While the number of birds coming to the feeders is a lot lower compared with winter, they still come to find food for themselves and for the hungry mouths of their broods.

Another bird visits the garden for the same reason, although this one may not be as popular due to its choice of dinner. It is a sparrowhawk. With a silent rush of wind and wing the hawk swoops over the fence, springing its attack on the small birds in the garden. Alarm calls replace the bird song. In many cases the sparrowhawk is unsuccessful, perching on a branch surveying the now empty garden with golden eyes, before heading off to search some other haunt. In some cases, of course, it is successful. It may be hard to take, but there is another set of mouths to feed.

A female sparrowhawk takes stock

To catch a sparrowhawk takes a lot of luck, and speed. The bird, so focused on catching dinner, does not usually notice a net, but often bounces out before you can get there, running like a loony down the garden with only one shoe on. Sometimes however the bird sticks long enough for you to get there.

Once you have a sparrowhawk in the hand you can only marvel at its beauty and design. Short, rounded wings and a long square-ended tail, designed for manoeuvring through confined spaces, perfect for chasing small birds through woodlands and gardens. Graceful long legs, that stretch from a tiny body, to grasp its prey with long, sharp talons. Today we caught a male. Small compared to the female, its bluish-grey back and wings only showing the faint reminders of a young bird in the brownish fringes to a few feathers. Its breast is barred with fine orangey-brown streaks. Its orange yellow eye watching your every move. It is simply a stunning bird.

The simply stunning male sparrowhawk

The recovery of sparrowhawk population and its preference for hunting small birds in gardens may not be welcomed by everyone. It is distressing to see a robin, goldfinch or even blackbird killed by a sparrowhawk but to me it is all a part of nature. Just as a blue tit will kill a caterpillar to feed its young, a sparrowhawk must kill a small bird in order to feed its own.

The Peewit

The sun drops over the lakes at the Nunnery Reserve, turning the calm waters the colour of molten larva. Ripples created by the resident ducks and geese spread out in ever increasing circles, rolling gently onto the tree lined banks or melting, disappearing into the smooth surface once more. The banks merge into rough grass, undulating up toward the track and fence marking the boundary of the reserve. Dotted around are dark green prickly gorse bushes, blooming with brilliant yellow flowers. 

The cutest of the cute - a peewit chick

Across the washed out pale blue sky comes a sound reminiscent of a 1980s space game. The sound dips and weaves until the source comes into view. Two lapwing, otherwise known as peewits, chase each other across the sky on rounded wings, twisting, turning and rolling, before one disappears and the other charges off chasing another bird, this time the black shadow of a crow. On the ground another lapwing stands erect, keeping one eye on what is going on above and the other seemingly at the ground around her. Her dark green and purple iridescent back shimmers in contrast to the brilliant white of her belly. The white of her cheeks stands out against the black of her face and neck, and her crest points skywards, although not as smart as her mate who valiantly chases all comers across the sky, she is still a picture to behold.

Beneath her are huddled four chicks, little speckled brown and white balls of fluff on spindly legs. Unlike song birds, waders such as lapwing don’t really build a nest. Their eggs are laid in a small scrape on the ground, whether it be on moorland, estuaries or farmland. Also unlike song birds, wader chicks hatch ‘fully clothed’ so to speak. Covered in down the chicks are able to walk about and feed within a few hours.

All blinged up 

Our chicks will have been hatched on the farmland over the fence, the parents then leading them onto the grassland of the reserve to feed. If you can spot them it is the perfect time to ring them. Despite more growing to be done, not only in size but with proper feathers, their legs don’t grow any fatter meaning you can fit a ring that will last all its adult life on a chick that is a couple of hours old.

The trick is spotting them amongst the tussocks, one warning from mum or dad and they can disappear right before your eyes, their plumage and small size enabling them to blend in with the background. If you can find them, they are the best. The cutest balls of down that one can handle. A privilege that I never grow tired of. No pecking or scratching, just a wee bit wriggly. No wonder I always look stupidly happy when I have these little dudes in my hands. 

Me and my peewit chicks

Redgrave and Lopham Fen

We are up before dawn, which at this time of year is early, too early some might say. A sliver of a crescent moon greets us as we drive east, shining in a velvety black, clear sky that is slowly turning an inky blue. The car park at Redgrave and Lopham Fen National Nature Reserve is, to no one's surprise, empty as we pull in to await the rest of the ringing team. 

As the shadows of the surrounding trees slowly come into focus the dawn chorus begins, the song of robins, blackbirds, song thrush, blackcap and many more break the quiet. 

Dawn light filters across the landscape of pasture, woodland and fen as we drive to the ringing site through gate after gate. Rabbits appear in the low lying mist, their ghostly forms appearing and then disappearing as they scamper across the fields. 

The ringing team at Redgrave & Lopham Fen NNR

The nets are set in the scrub and trees at the edge of a large reed bed, a sea of dun yellow stalks whose tops glow burnt orange as the sun finally breaks the horizon. A barn owl floats across the crests, dipping back and forth on silent wings. 

The stunning sedge warbler

The ringing is good, enough to keep us ticking over, with a catch of warblers only just returned from their wintering quarters. Willow warblers, garden warbler, sedge warbler and whitethroats all fresh from Africa, blackcaps from either northern Africa or southern Europe. 

Equally stunning whitethroat

The morning develops into a warm, bright spring day. The barn owl is replaced by three hobby, also recently returned from their winter travels, circling high over head. 

A bit of variety

The clouds of varying shades of grey chased each other across the sky. The sun played hide and seek with the patches of bright blue in between. April showers swept across the trees, spiky hedges and opaque polytunnels of the farm. Finally things were starting to look green, tiny leaves covered by bare skeletal branches of the hedges, pale pink and white blossoms covered the trees. Bird song filled the air; busily they dart from hedge to grass to tree and back, disappearing into secret corners where their nests are hidden.

Dodging the showers the nets were up, but as always the question was what would we catch? This may always be the question on every ringers mind, but at this time of year for us it’s even more so. Things are in a state of flux, winter migrants are or have left for their breeding grounds, summer birds are returning but not all are back yet. Residents are spreading out through the countryside, setting up and maintaining breeding territories.

Plenty of lesser redpolls still moving through at the farm

The result? Well the star of the winter show, the brambling, seem to have left, but there are still  plenty of redpolls having their last fill before heading north. Plenty of siskins add their green and gold to the feeders, some piling on the fat reserves ready to leave, while others are already into the full swing of breeding. 

Female siskin - some had brood patches
others were piling on fat ready to leave

Female chaffinch, greenfinch, great tit, goldfinch, siskin and robin all show evidence that breeding is underway, the feathers on their breast have been dropped and the skin engorged ready for incubating eggs.

Summer migrants have also made an appearance; swallows recently returned from Africa, dip and dive over the cottage roof, while in the net we catch a female blackcap.

Female blackcap (with her brown cap!)

Added to the mix were nuthatch, coal tit, blue tit and even a female great spotted woodpecker, her all black head setting her apart from the males of the species.

As the horizon darkens ominously, promising more than a light sprinkling, it is time to close up. The nets are safely wrapped up, the kit is tidied and stowed away. As large, heavy rain drops start to patter against the roof of the polytunnel we leave the birds to find shelter for themselves and head home for a well earned bacon and egg sarnie. 

A day in the Bay of Biscay

The deep blue of the Atlantic Ocean stretched to the horizon, mirrored by a blue sky that was a just a shade lighter. The sea rolled, the occasional white cap broke the surface, small dark waves rippled. The ferry steamed ahead, leaving a path of pale turquoise and white water. Once again I am back heading across the Bay of Biscay.

After a quiet morning, with only the occasional adult gannet swooping by, finally comes the shout of dolphins. Common dolphins sweep past the vessel quickly reaching her wake. Surfing through the waves, they start to leap, clearing the waters surface by meters, as exuberant as those onboard watching.

Common dolphins 

Breach!

The wind picks up, more white horses are scattered across the deep blue. Still we stand, still we watch, we wait. Then from the depths… a tall, ephemeral jet of vapour, the telltale sign of a whale, followed by a large, dark, sleek body that slices out of the waves. Not just any whale. A fin whale. The second largest animal on the planet, a few hundred meters from the ferry. Again it surfaces, heading in the opposite direction, before after the third time it is lost from view.

Fin whale!

We resume our watching but it is not long before something else catches our eye. A dark shape beneath the waves… a huge dark shape beneath the waves, but not breaking the surface. This time it is the second largest fish on the planet, a basking shark! As the ship passes, the tip of its dorsal and tail fin breaks the surface, before it is also lost beneath the waves at the stern.

My head turns back to look ahead, and once again I see that ephemeral wisp of a whale blow. But where is the whale? It must be close…then whoosh! not one but two whales, an adult and a juvenile!

Adult and juvenile fin whale

Through the hazy cloud the Spanish coast comes into view, mountains still capped with snow, towering over the rocky coastline. Our whale watching adventure is almost over for the day, but not quite with one final sighting of long-finned pilot whale. They surface close together, a tight-knit group, black bodies gleaming in the sun and topping off yet another brilliant day in the Bay of Biscay.