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

The Hunt

The RIB sped out of Victoria Harbour, skimming over the silky smooth water of the San Juan Straight. Mist, through which the sun was valiantly trying to break through, obscured the Olympic Mountains of the USA and gave a silvery quality to the ocean between. On board a small group of passengers are safely ensconced in large red survival suits. abruptly the boat does a u-turn, and speeds back towards the harbour. Ahead one or two larger boats filled with people are almost stationary, a sure sign of something being about. The RIB slows, approaching carefully. Out of the silvery grey water a tall, black fin rises, a grey saddle just behind this dorsal fin and the hint of white around the eye, as the unmistakable sleek, black body of a killer whale slices effortlessly through the water.

A Bigg's transient killer whale cruises the Victoria coastline

The boat slows almost to a stop, watching at a distance as the killer whales move steadily along the shoreline. There are five, including a large male and a small calf. But these are different to those seen from the kayak. They may be subtle differences but these whales may as well be a completely different species. They are Bigg’s transient killer whales, and rather than feeding on fish as the resident whales do, they feed on mammals. Seals, dolphins, porpoises, are all on their menu. Named after Michael Bigg, who first pioneered the photo-identification of killer whales here and led the way in establishing the different types of killer whales that live off the coast of British Columbia and Washington. Bigg’s killer whales do not vocalise or echolocate as much as resident’s and that is because marine mammals can hear very well underwater. Using stealth they follow the coastline in search of prey and that is exactly what this group was doing. At times they are in water so shallow the tip of the males dorsal fin is still clear above the water.

The group’s progress up the coast slows, they seem to be stalling and then the reason why becomes apparent. A harbour seal, sat on top of a bed of kelp, dinner. The group slowly circle, spy hopping, raising their whole head above the water and taking a good look around and at the seal. Tighter and tighter the five killer whales, including the young calf, circle closer. There is thought to this process. They don’t just go barging in, they work it, thinking, almost assessing the situation, working the best way to get the seal from the kelp. The approach needs to be right, move too soon and the seal could get away. 

Searching, establishing where the seal is

Suddenly there is a splash, the seal’s hind flippers flick up into the air and it is pulled down beneath the kelp. The killer whales surface once more altogether, almost turning in on one small point between them and then it is quiet.

Having pulled the seal under, the group surfaces tight together

Five minutes later the group surfaces again, once more in searching mode as they move off along the coast again…

The passengers sit, stunned. While it is sad to know that seal has been munched, it is the most fascinating piece of behaviour I have ever witnessed. I feel privileged to have observed this part of this killer whale family’s lives. This is nature, this is survival, this is the wild beautiful natural world we live in, and what we must protect.

Dash to the coast

Across the country the nation collectively groaned as the weather forecasts came in. Summer it seems was coming to a very abrupt end with gales and heavy rain predicted from midweek and over the weekend. Only one select group of people were eyeing up the predictions with relish. Northerly, and easterly winds, even some rain, birders on the east coast were rubbing their hands together at the thought of masses of migrant, common and rare, crossing from the continent. More than one booked last minute time off work as they themselves migrated to the coast.

Ringers also pricked their ears up at the forecast, constantly monitoring the changing weekend conditions with the hope of some sort of break, or brief pause in the storm that might bring suitable conditions to try and catch some of those birds that had made it to the coast.

Saturday was looking a total wash out with heavy rain and strong wind forecast all day. Sunday though, now Sunday was looking good. It seemed a respite in the wind and rain was coming.

Friday night and the forecast although improving on Saturday afternoon was still suggesting that Sunday would be the day. Of course the British weather being the British weather meant a certain pair of ringers woke up (thankfully reasonably early) on Saturday morning to find calm overcast conditions! Perfect for ringing but we were an hour from the coast! A frantic morning of throwing everything in the car (ringing kit, camping kit, food, blankets, dogs stuff, dog!….) and we made a dash for the coast.

All ready for a weekend ringing at the coast

It was not too bad all things considered… nets were up and birds were being caught by 10:30ish. Before the rain and wind then settled in, over 110 birds were caught and ringed. Most being robins and blackcaps, all recently arrived, but a few brambling and song thrush added to the mix and a special treat of a yellow-browed warbler one of those more rarer migrants….

Large numbers of robins recently arrived on the coast

Along the coast the conditions on Sunday were challenging for birders, with squally showers and strong winds, but the odd interesting birds were turning up, not least a spattering of yellow-browed warblers and for us, a wonderful view of a great grey shrike…

Not a bad blustery weekend after all….

The stunning yellow-browed warbler