Tuesday, November 11, 2025
While scanning the tall tree at the far side of the nursing-home's garden for waxwings, I caught sight of a great spotted woodpecker - not exactly a common bird here.
The woodpecker - a male - preened a bit, and then flew off in the direction of Beinn Ghobhlach, which would take it to an area of trees and bushes by the golf course. As for waxwings, I haven't seen any since the two mentioned in my last post. They've probably moved on as most if not all the rowan trees in the village were stripped of their berries ages ago.
Tuesday, October 28, 2025
WAXIES! Two waxwings were in gardens along Old Moss Road this afternoon, seen on a walk round the village. They flew off towards the west after a bit of aggro from chaffinches.
A little light rain was falling some of the time, and the visibility was poor; I must remember to get out earlier now - there's plenty of time for doing boring domestic chores when it's dark. An otter was swimming down the river to the loch.
When I got back home the seed feeder, which has just gone back up for the winter, was a madhouse of coal tits, blue tits, goldfinches, greenfinches, chaffinches, house sparrows, one great tit, and one robin. This morning, a female blackcap was in the birch sapling which has sprung up in the garden - and which might be allowed to become a tree. We haven't decided yet.
Thursday, October 23, 2025
There was thick ice on my car's windscreen this morning as we set out to walk down to the ferry terminal. As promised by the forecast, the sun was shining from a blue sky - but also forecast were very light winds, whereas now an irritating cold breeze had sprung up, while the surface of the sea was distinctly ruffled. Oh well, you can't have everything - and spirits were high as we set sail on the Isle of Lewis, despite no great expectations as to what we might see. The top deck gives airy views with fewer obstructions than you get on the Loch Seaforth - including this one, looking forward(ish) to the Minch beyond the Summer Isles.
It was fairly quiet on the way out. Mindful that we'd seen white-beaked dolphins in October last year, I paid attention to all leaping cetaceans - but these, like others we saw, were common dolphins.
Then Greger spotted something leaping from the water as we approached Stornoway. He said it was pale, so it could have been a Risso's dolphin. Unfortunately I missed it and could only grab a shot of the splash!
Something bobbing on the waves obstinately kept its back towards us - but I'm pretty sure it was a male long-tailed duck.
On the return journey we scanned the area of the splash madly, but could see nothing. A very strong wind was now blowing; this was fun as the ship both rolled and pitched a little, but the movements, combined with the wind and the vibrations of the engines, made looking through bins difficult, never mind trying to use the camera!
There was suddenly quite a lot of bird activity, and I snapped off useless shots of c40 sooty shearwaters. About ten minutes later I spotted a pale-form skua and started to click off shots. This is the first one I took, uncropped to give an idea of distance (although I don't know if the camera was on full zoom or not).
After a while I thought I could detect something I hadn't seen before on a skua - a long, thickish tail with a blob (sometimes) at the end - and said with some excitement "I think it's a pomarine!" Greger, intently following the bird through his bins, agreed about the tail.
For the next five minutes we were accompanied by the skua powering along over the waves parallel with the ferry; I kept saying "It's a pom! I'm sure it's a pom!" while clicking off shot after shaky shot. Eventually the skua drew ahead of us and we lost it.
This was my first definite pomarine skua, watched over a thrilling five minutes that I'm glad Greger was on hand to share - he'd been about to go down for a coffee when I got onto it! It's also the sixth "first-for-the-ferry" I've had this year, along with Risso's dolphins, basking shark, Brent geese, house sparrow, and the long-tailed duck of today. Goodness knows how much I've spent on pelagics to Stornoway, particularly since Covid - but I'm not exaggerating when I say that the pom alone was worth all of it.
Monday, October 13, 2025
On a day of low cloud, light winds, and a fairly calm sea, we set off on our latest pelagic to Stornoway and back. Visibility wasn't great on the way out and the mist gave a damp feel to the air - but it brightened up later. Nothing stupendous was spotted, but it was an enjoyable trip with plenty of common dolphins on both legs.
Porpoises were also much in evidence.
There seemed to be no Manx shearwaters now but we saw possibly 100 sooties. I clicked off loads of photos but they're all rubbish. I complained that this ferry now vibrates almost as much as the old one - although I did notice the difference (a bit too late) if I didn't lean my elbows on the rail! Greger naturally had the solution - electric ferries. Wouldn't that be nice! Not only a smooth, quiet ride for us - but also less noise and pollution for the ocean.
Just before we reached Stornoway I had a glimpse of a Minke whale as it surfaced (never to be seen again) while a small passerine flying over my head and landing high on the funnel structure turned out to be a house sparrow.
I had three sightings of skuas. One, lifting from the water and then disappearing into the murk, was clearly a bonxie - while this dark form bird is probably an Arctic skua.
Most things considered (eg small head, narrowish wings), I think this is also an Arctic.
Back in Ullapool, Greger diverted to Tesco for some shopping while I went home and then drove back to pick him up. He's had a bad heel for several weeks now - painful enough to make him limp. He has a vast pack of frozen peas with which he cools his heel several times a day - as advised by the NHS website. Anyway, he probably won't be going up any hills in the near future; but I think I must try, if only to get this blog back to its original subject - walking, with birds thrown in. There's been too much "lay-by birding" lately and it won't do!
Tuesday, September 30, 2025
The Slavonian grebe was just offshore at Badentarbat, and was the best bird seen in the Coigach area today.
Six or seven dunlin were feeding with ringed plovers on the machair at Achnahaird. At home, five red admirals were nectaring desperately on the last remaining flowers of the smallest buddleia - the larger bushes having long gone to seed.
Monday, September 29, 2025
The white-tailed eagle was soaring near the road on our trip south down the coast yesterday - and for once there was a handy lay-by.
A South Uist farmer is convinced that eagles are to blame for the loss of five Shetland pony foals that disappeared from his fields between May and July. I don't know whether this is likely or not and so I keep an open mind - but it's interesting that the BBC News website has reported two similar cases this year. A Shetland foal called Lucy disappeared from Cornwall in July and was later found in Hertfordshire; and six Shetland ponies went missing from the New Forest, also in July. Apparently, two of the latter were later found in "a London borough" - although I doubt if the picture on the BBC website is of a Shetland pony - it looks more like a New Forest pony! But anyway, eagles could hardly be suspected in these cases, and pony rustling is clearly "a thing".
I've added some numbers to my last post regarding the minke whale. When I counted my (wretched) photos I was surprised to find that I'd snapped twenty-four breaches in thirty minutes.
There were a few that I missed with the camera. Also - a man who was already on site when I arrived was happy that he and his wife had had a good hour watching the whale - so goodness knows how many times it breached altogether. Just before I left, the Shearwater came down the loch heading for the spot where it had been feeding, and I felt sorry for them because I was fairly sure the whale had gone.
I was very lucky to see what I saw - and I almost didn't. After spotting it from the ferry the previous day, I'd decided to try and see the whale again: Either I would drive all the way round to Achduart, which would get me much closer, or I would walk from home along the beach to Rhue. If I had done either, I would have missed the whale.
I haven't driven to Rhue for some time because of the behaviour of a farmer there. He's a bully. I'd only just parked once when he walked over and asked if I was thinking of staying. He then got me to re-park my car, and walked away saying "after all, we must give everyone else a chance". I was fuming. If anyone is a considerate parker, I am! On another occasion when I arrived he was standing talking to a man from one of the chalets; they kept staring at me, but the farmer couldn't complain about my parking as I was the first one there. He walked off, while the other man continued to look round at me as he walked up to his chalet. I set off down to the lighthouse, and after a while I realised the chalet man was walking behind me. I turned right at the lighthouse, following the path towards Ardmair - and still the man kept coming. He was walking fairly fast. This was after lockdown but we were still supposed to be socially distancing, so I walked down towards the sea so that he could pass me. After a while I glanced to my right - but he was nowhere to be seen. I glanced to my left - ditto. I turned round - and he had stopped on the path directly behind me and was staring at me with a smirk on his face. I turned right round then to face him, presumably looking as furious as I felt, and got my camera out. He promptly turned and walked back up to the car park. So - what was all that about?
I don't usually allow men to intimidate me with regard to the great outdoors, normally going wherever I please; but I admit I stayed away from Rhue last year (although I walked there once). It was time to reassert my rights! I drove to Rhue - and I saw the whale. Job done.
Friday, September 26, 2025
Yesterday: A minke whale glimpsed among auks and gannets near the Coigach shoreline on our way back to Ullapool was the pick of the day's sightings from the ferry.
Today: I drove to Rhue and walked down to the lighthouse on the off-chance that the whale would be present again - and some significant splashes over near Achduart confirmed that it was. The whale then moved slowly across the bay, treating me and a few others present to a fine show of breaching. Over about thirty minutes I snapped the whale rising from the water twenty-four times, and there were a few breaches I didn't catch. The results are pretty awful - but then, it was quite a long way away!
It's difficult to judge distances at sea; all I can say for sure is that the skerry in this picture (Stac Mhic Aonghais) is about 14 km from Rhue. With the naked eye the whale was best located by the huge splashes as it fell back into the water.
Bird life on land was represented by a handful of rock pipits, calling sharply to each other as they foraged among the rocks.
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