Is seawatching a shore bet?

It’s always a gamble.

Deciding the day before about where to go bird-watching is a bit like putting your house on a horse. You can check previous days activity via websites etc. You can try to be all meteorological about it and check wind directions, the chance of fog, rain, low or high pressures over Scandinavia, blah, blah, blah. Or, if you’re like me, you hedge your bets.

lady luck for me takes the shape of North Norfolk. The North Norfolk coast can kiss my dice anytime. You just have to never expect to win the jackpot.

Holme NOA Nature Reserve

I placed my first bet on Holme-next-the Sea. The reserve is a maze of dunes with a belt of pines that faces the North Sea and a magnet for migrants. A 50/50 bet was the Pallas’ Warbler that had made itself at home in the buckthorn for a couple of days. The early morning fog hung low over the sea and dunes and a fine mist dampened the skin but it was unseasonably mild and still. A few early birders were looking for the 'Sibe' but hadn’t had a sight or sound of this eastern gem by 7am.

I politely looked for it for 30 minutes, seeing only a small group of Pink-footed Geese before deciding to move from an obviously 'crap' table, to a safer, more spreadable bet that was the sea. Bingo. ( I don’t use exclamation marks.)

Pink-footed Geese

Maybe not rare birds but Razorbills, Guillemots, Red-breasted Mergansers, Fulmars, Kittiwakes and Gannets were wonderful to watch. Alas, there were no Skuas or Shearwaters about but I hasd already got a return on my investment from a couple of hours sea-watching.

Fulmar, Old Hunstanton, April 2009

A few Red-throated Divers and one Black-throated Diver flew east as the weather started to improve. Eventually, the sun broke through and I figured it was time to change locations and head just down the road to Titchwell.

Titchwell

Popular place, Titchwell. By the time I’d arrived, there was nowhere to park. It was like Sainsburys on a Saturday. I had to drive around in circles until I found someone who looked as though they were leaving and then drive behind them really slowly only to find they were just getting a flask of coffee from the boot.  I parked in the coaches only area. Fucking rebel me.

The only table here to gamble with was a picnic one. The good news was that a Yellow-browed Warbler was frequenting the picnic area and a number of observers were busily looking for the little leaf warbler. We heard it before we saw it but see it we did. It hovered briefly under a leaf of the sycamore before zipping off with a few tits and disappearing.

Yellow-browed Warbler, courtesy of Wiki.

Well that was a good start. My plan was still to put most of my money on sea-watching so I headed towards the sea, neglecting the new, rather posh hides that have sprung up since my last visit.

Plenty of action here. A Slavonian Grebe lingered offshore for a while and a lovely pair of Eider flew west. Along the shoreline, Godwits – both Bar-tailed and Black-tailed prodded about for food. Oystercatchers, Knot, Sanderling and the odd Grey Plover patrolled the sand bar fingers that appeared as the tide withdrew. Overhead, Dunlin and Golden Plover flew in small parties and arrows of Brent Geese went back and forth seemingly unsettled by an occasional sortie by Marsh Harriers.

Sanderling

My last chance saloon would be Cley. Little Auks and Sabine’s Gulls had been observed earlier in the day so everything felt positive. The sea was very calm and visibility crystal clear. A few Common Scoter passed along with more Red-throated Divers. Fulmars, Kittiwakes and Gannets. I was getting a sense of déjà vu to be honest. I checked every Kittiwake just in case there was a Sabine’s there but there were none. As I left a fellow birder enquired if I had seen that small tern with dark wings, a White-winged Black Tern or even a Sooty Tern he amusingly suggested. 'No', I said, 'fat chance, mate'.

Truth was, I left a winner. 66 species with a couple of nice scarcities, decent weather for late October and an extra hour in bed to come.