My car's standing useless on the drive; for the third time since we moved here, the front suspension spring has broken and the bumper is almost resting on the ground. It's booked in for repair next week at the local garage (which doesn't fill me with confidence, given that last time my car was there someone drove into it and it required a new bonnet).
To cheer myself up, I went on yet another pelagic - and got a seat in the front row of the indoor observation deck. It was nice to sit comfortably in the quiet for a change and watch the scenery as we moved down the loch.
I can see that great views must be had if seabirds are crossing the bows, but I found the tinted glass a mite depressing. If you look out through the clear side glass, it's as if you're looking into a different country; you suddenly realise that the sun is shining! In any case I had no intention of staying here, and once past the Summer Isles I went up onto the open decks, opting once more for the higher one where I had the short rail more or less to myself.
Trouble was, I saw very little of interest. No petrels or shearwaters - and only a couple of distant skuas. I spotted this one through the bins as it harassed a kittiwake; it soon gave up and I somehow got the camera onto it as it flew low over the waves. I couldn't possibly see enough details to identify it, so I'm glad I got the pics, poor though they are.
The trouble is, after hours of reading up on skuas in my bird books and looking at photos and articles by experts on the internet, I still don't know what it is! I lean towards Pomarine - the bluish bill appears to have a fairly small black tip, and the body perhaps has the deep chest and belly of a pom, while the middle pic seems to suggest a bit of a non-pointed extension to the tail: but then again, is the head large enough, the bill long and strong enough? When Greger asked if I'd come to any conclusions I said I hadn't - but that at least I knew a bit more about skuas now. "Ah," he said, "you're still confused then - but you're confused on a higher level." On a quick search I couldn't find who originally came up with this quote - but it certainly describes my present state of mind.
On the other hand, so does "Aaaarrrrgh!!!!"
Greger was off to Inverness to get the Toyota serviced, and I asked if he minded my doing a pelagic without him. He said he didn't, but added that he always gets nervous when I go on the ferry alone. "Just stay calm and don't let people bother you," was his advice. I promised to pat every dog I encountered and to tell those who asked about whales and dolphins to go and relax in the lounge and I would run down and let them know if I saw any.
Dark clouds above threatened rain as the ferry set off but we left these behind and enjoyed the bright weather that had been forecast - even if it was a trifle windier.
For a change, I stood at the short rail in front of the funnel on the upper deck; three male birders were also there. Two stood to my left, leaning over the rail and facing mostly forward, while the one to my right was taller than me - with the result that they saw most birds before I did and, because they were together, called everything out. And they had a perfect right to of course, but it was a mite frustrating. The one bird I found for myself was a distant skua harassing a kittiwake; I couldn't tell what it was at the time, but from the poor picture I got it appears that the skua is maybe towing behind it a little too much baggage (both lengthways and widthways) for great, Arctic, or long-tailed; so maybe it was a pomarine skua.
The most productive patch of the Minch yielded a high number of sooty shearwaters; they were sitting in groups near the path of the ferry and took off as it passed. I failed to get any decent shots but it was exciting just to see so many. One of the male birders called out a great shearwater but it was apparently always flying away from the ship and I didn't even try to get onto it. Eventually I realised that I was blooming cold and went down to the main seating deck, where, away from the wind, I basked in the sun. When we reached Stornoway, my hands were still tingling from the blood flowing back.
I stayed on the main deck for the return trip. Almost half an hour out from Stornoway I spotted my only Manx shearwater of the day, and then a very distant skua behind us - which I think is an Arctic skua.
Also far out but to the north, a couple of whales were spouting, their blows hanging in the air like ghosts. Once I did catch sight of the creature itself, though not well enough to identify it. But I'd learnt from one of the male birders of the morning that whales can be identified by their blows; and from wwhandbook.iwc.int that the correct term is blow since the exhalation is of moist air, not water.
This skua deserves a mention for once, as avian flu has probably killed many bonxies.
A welcome sighting as they've been absent lately, was that of a white-tailed sea eagle on the ridge of Priest Island - which almost immediately took flight.
A distant splash seen several times behind the ferry was possibly a dolphin rather than a whale's blow; it might even have been a gannet - except that I don't remember seeing any gannets around at the time.
It had been an enjoyable day and this was my last significant sighting. And what of Greger's fears that I might start a mass brawl on the ferry? Well, I admit that I'm a bit antisocial and of an irritable temperament, and that I seem to be getting worse. It wasn't always so. When the Jubilee River on the Bucks/Berks border opened to the public and was, for a while, a great birding spot, many people would come up to me and ask what I was doing (I stood around quite a lot in those days with my 'scope and tripod, thus unwittingly attracting attention). I used to answer politely (even when those people were not themselves polite) and generally wouldn't say boo to a goose; on the ferry I've become a curmudgeon, short and brusque in my answers or worse, snapping at people.
But, although I feel a bit ashamed afterwards, I think I've got a point. I like dolphins and whales, but above all I like birds - and birding on the ferry isn't easy. The boat's moving fast, and the birds I want to see are for the most part slender and swift. They're hard to locate and even harder to stay on. Become distracted for a second - and you can lose the bird. Why is it that, when I'm clearly very intently looking through my bins, or hoisting my camera awkwardly above the rail and pointing it at the sea, someone inevitably comes up and starts to question me? And they're not curious about the birds - not one in ten is interested - they just want dolphins and whales. And while they're going on about dolphins or whales, my delectable shearwater/petrel/skua/tern is dwindling into the hazy distance, never to be seen again.
I think this is a fairly mild rant. I'm too exhausted for anything else.
