Saturday, September 30, 2023
Sunday, September 24, 2023
Looking across the bay from the high pull-in at Gruinard we could see at least 50 black-throated divers in a loose, loafing flock.
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The dandelion-like wildflowers were a rich golden yellow, with dense white clocks. Hawksbeard? Sow thistle? I'm still looking them up. Anyway, the wheatear cheered me, and I didn't bother too much about whether it could be a Greenlander; the criteria regarding the identification of this race seem to change with every article I read. Seven primary tips were visible, but the bird didn't strike me as being unusually large.
The return trip brought more tantalisingly brief whale sightings - I've been spoilt for evermore now, having had a minke breach right in front of my eyes! I willed it to happen again for the cetacean watchers on board, but it wasn't to be. And I failed dismally yet again to spot a petrel. Greger says I would see more if I didn't try to photograph everything and I know he's right. My camera - no, more accurately my blog, has become a tyrant.
Thursday, September 21, 2023
Yesterday: Greger was driving over to Inverness for his Spanish course, and I decided to go east as well, back to Chanonry Point on the off-chance I would see skuas or even the large shearwater again. I stopped at Avoch (pronounced, apparently, "Och") to use the loo and debated whether I should spend some time there, it was so lovely; there was no wind, it was warm, and the sea was as calm as the proverbial mill pond. But Chanonry would be busy on such a nice day and I didn't want to have to queue to park, so I carried on - and found a few spaces still free.
The shingle spit was very busy. Now, I know that this is a public beach and people are entitled to walk their dogs on it - but loads of owners were clearly here for the dolphins because they were loitering with the rest of us on the spit and gazing hopefully at the sea; so the dogs weren't exactly being walked, and as a result some were getting bored and tetchy. There was whining, there was barking, and one small dog yapped constantly until its owner got up and walked it around for a bit before sitting down again - whereupon the dog resumed its yapping. There are posts on Trip Advisor extolling the place for its peace and quiet. Hmmm.
A few Sandwich terns fished here and there. It was growing very warm, and the water was a lovely pinky-blue, making a nice background for a red-throated diver doing some preening and wing-flapping.
But there were no shearwaters for me today. I scrubbed up another shot of my putative Cory's from the last visit; this is no better than the other pic but at least it gives a different angle. There is a good shot of a Cory's here on highland birds.scot, so I'm reasonably confident I did see and snap it!
After just over three hours, the wind was getting up and I decided to leave. At Avoch, I pulled in and walked along one of the harbour walls; the sea was now wind-whipped and rough, and water splashed over the side as the waves broke. At the Tore Roundabout I turned onto the A835 and after a while I spotted a white Tesla in a lay-by. When it sped off ahead of me I guessed it was Greger and that he'd been tracking me on his Finder app - which is exactly what had happened. But he stopped at Silverbridge for the loo, so I got home first - just. Oh, and this time I didn't see any dolphins.
Sunday, September 17, 2023
The beach and the machair at Achnahaird brought a single curlew and a flock of small waders in flight - ringed plovers probably. As I walked back across the cliffs in a slight drizzle, hoping for waders to be brought in by the weather, a duck came flying into the bay and landed on the water. I cheered up when I realised it was a common scoter - probably a juvenile.
Also feeding in the bay were a black-throated diver, a cormorant, and two razorbills.
Friday, September 15, 2023
Greger fancied a trip over east, so I suggested Chanonry Point. It was coming up to high tide and there were loads of birds around; auks resting on the water, gannets cruising overhead, a few turnstones on the jetty, and common terns making fishing forays. The trouble at this lovely spot is that one is apt to be distracted by dolphins - and we both clicked away as a couple of bottlenoses rode the bow wave of a large cargo ship making its way down the Moray Firth (Fort George in the background).
It would be nice to think it was a juvenile long-tailed skua but I suppose it was more likely to have been an Arctic. The other frustrating sighting was of a bird flying away low over the water which to me looked like a shearwater - a large one. I wasn't ready, the camera was on the wrong setting, and the few pics I grabbed were mostly from the back as it headed towards Fort George. The bird must have banked in front of that headland and perhaps stayed in the area, but I obviously lost it at that point as this is the last picture I took.
Monday, September 11, 2023
The rain cleared away at midday and we enjoyed a walk along the beach and round the machair, seeing four curlews and a few ringed plover and dunlin. A wader went winging maniacally away towards the sea with a trilling call - I've no idea what it was. As we ate lunch at Badentarbat, dolphins were leaping far out towards Tanera Mor. Back at the junction lay-by I saw a redshank in the channel and some small waders on the far bank. Walking down past the rams' field I leaned on the gate and spotted two sanderling.....
Sunday, September 10, 2023
It was a monochrome sort of a day, with almost constant rain falling as we drove down the coast to Aultbea. There was nothing to see there so we started to make our way back, pausing at various lay-bys. At Mungasdale, a party of black-throated divers sailed, lounged, preened, and dived.
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The day before, my first whooper swans (two) and wigeon (4) of the autumn were on Loch Droma.
Tuesday, September 05, 2023
A minke whale breaching to the north of the ferry was the sighting of the day.
Looked much better in blue.
But the whale of course was long gone.
Friday, September 01, 2023
The ferry was busy, with clusters of people at both upper rails, so I stayed on the lower seating deck. Looking out to the north at a feeding frenzy of gulls and gannets I caught sight of a whale (11.35). It was too brief to say what it was (although probably a Minke) and it didn't reappear while I was watching. Just over an hour later (12.41), when I had moved from the side rail to the back, I realised belatedly that some excitement among other observers on the side rails had been caused not by dolphins, but by a whale - although I didn't hear anyone say which whale it was. I caught sight of blows way behind us and without much hope, leaned down slightly to aim through the top two bars of the safety rail; there appeared to be two individuals surfacing close together. I wonder if the people on the distant sailing boat saw them.
On the return journey, I spotted whale-blowing towards the Shiant Isles but it was too far away to make out anything more. However, this picture of a minke whale came as a surprise, as I don't recall seeing it (picture timed at 14.17, so just quarter of an hour out from Stornoway)!
A group of six or so people armed with various optics took up the short rail, while another group was in possession of the corner of the lower seating area on the same side of the ship. I'd thought at first the upper group were cetacean watchers by virtue of their headgear: either no hats, or brimmed ones, while the lower group, almost all of whom sported baseball caps, were probably birders. But both groups seemed entirely focused on whales and dolphins, and when a whale was spotted back towards Lewis there was much shouting between the groups, with one man on the upper deck yelling "Two of them - bulls!" Crikey, how on earth could he tell? LATER: They might have been seeing orca, in which case the males stand out by virtue of their very tall dorsal fins.
There was one amusing moment for me when I spotted an Arctic skua chasing kittiwakes over the wake of the ferry. I lost it, scanned wildly, and relocated it. At the same instant a woman to my left remarked to her companion "There it is!" and I was pleased that one person at least was interested in birds. But her next comment "Oh yes, they're much bigger than dolphins" had me scratching my head (metaphorically speaking) - until I realised that instead of referring to the skua, she'd spotted another whale. I promptly lost the skua for the second time and never did manage to see the whale! Oh well, it had been a good day.
