Tuesday, September 30, 2025
The Slavonian grebe was just offshore at Badentarbat, and was the best bird seen in the Coigach area today.
.jpeg)
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
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.
Tuesday, September 23, 2025
Three days ago a wheatear was on rocks between the end of West Shore Street and the camp-site.
.....along with a meadow pipit. Two reed buntings were restless and vocal on the river spit; while closer to home, a chiffchaff sang from trees near the medical centre.
Friday, September 19, 2025
Yesterday: At Alturlie on the shores of the Moray Firth, six golden plover flew around before landing - no doubt relieved to be down out of the mad wind.
This morning we picked up the car, and it was nice to know that one of the "advisories" from last year's MOT had been fixed before this year's test in November. I still expect it to fail, but I'll deal with that when the time comes. Then - Greger noticed as he followed me out to Alturlie that my nearside brake light wasn't working. My heart sank. This bulb has failed twice before, many years ago, and I found that it was not easy to replace it. We went back to Ford and bought a new bulb, but the service people couldn't do it there and then; so we drove home - with a stop at Glascarnoch dam for a very short walk. There were a few meadow pipits around and another small flock of birds which, landing briefly on the wall, proved to be redpolls.
The problem I had all those years ago with the brake light was that I found it impossible to remove the casing. The Ford handbook states that "the required tool for this procedure is a Phillips screwdriver". No it isn't. The screws are star-shaped, not cross-shaped, and the "required tool" is a Torx screwdriver - which we didn't have. Now, however, a better-equipped Greger applied himself to what still seemed to be a mammoth task - and eventually we replaced the bulb, and he put it all together again. We tried the brakes - and to our dismay, none of the nearside rear lights came on! It must be the wiring, and we can't do that.
The car is now booked in again for Tuesday!
Tuesday, September 16, 2025
A raft of sooty shearwaters was seen ahead of the ferry as I stood at the rail of the upper seating deck.
Splashes in the ferry's wake suggested two animals present, and a very poor photo shows something that might be a light grey dorsal fin - maybe Risso's dolphins, maybe not. Another poor pic at least proves that an Arctic skua spotted chasing a kittiwake succeeded in nicking its meal.
Thursday, September 11, 2025
On a day when rain was expected, wind gusts were forecast to reach 42mph, and the ferry remained in Ullapool, I decided to go out to Achnahaird. There were few other vehicles in the car park and I had the machair to myself!
The first birds (apart from five or six curlew) were a ruff and a golden plover. (The plover promptly disappeared and I've scrutinised the one poor photo I got carefully in case it was a "special". I don't think it is.)
There were four bar-tailed godwits and one black-tailed; I saw no godwits at all last year, and I'd forgotten how leggy black-tailed appear when in the company of bar-tailed.
.jpeg)
At one point the waders went up in a panic, and looking up, I spotted a solitary goose flying over. The waders soon returned to earth. As I made my way towards the beach and the sea, I hoped to see the goose again - and at last there it was, a Brent goose picking at the grass in a half-hearted sort of way. It gave me a steady look as I clicked off a shot, but didn't fly.
I continued up onto the cliffs, noting six or seven sanderling on the way - and then the rain came down. By the time I reached the car my legs and the rucksack were soaked - but my Jack Wolfskin jacket kept my top half dry. The outing was probably not wise given that I'm still prone to a bit of coughing and sneezing - but I enjoyed the walk and the birds and I didn't get near anyone. Job done.
Monday, September 08, 2025
Surely the windy weather we've been having lately would have dropped some waders at Achnahaird? I set off through the dunes, and had the machair to myself apart from half a dozen curlews, until "Is that a ruff?!" In fact, there were two.
.....until this flew over, when it disappeared!
Oh well. Other waders also took to the air, but after a zoom round, these landed pretty much where they'd been feeding before. There were knot, turnstone, sanderling, ringed plover, and a handful of dunlin.
It seemed that the machair was the place to be, because as I plodded across the wet sand towards the sea I saw nothing. Reaching the low cliffs I paused at the top to look back across the great expanse of sand uncovered by the falling tide.....
.....and noticed, through the bins, that three waders had landed to the right of the people walking at the water's edge. They were clearly godwits, and given the extent of the red underparts I think they have to be bar-tailed godwits. I was too tired to go back (still not completely recovered from that blasted virus), and this hugely cropped photo will have to do.
Returning to Ullapool, I parked on West Terrace and looked out over the loch. I was watching dolphins leaping near the far shore when all the gulls on the golf-course spit went up with shrieks of protest - and there, directly above me, were two adult white-tailed eagles.
I enjoyed my day - as did Greger. He went to Inverness to do some shopping, but the important thing for him is having a long drive alone during which he can listen to his latest Spanish audiobook. He's having a rest from crime and has turned to horror - El Silencio de los Corderos!
Saturday, September 06, 2025
Day 21 of the flu for me, which makes it seven days longer than the usual dose. Greger wanted to go on the ferry and I'm probably no longer contagious, so off we went. The weather was bright and warm as we left Ullapool and we had high hopes. 50 minutes in, Greger pointed to three birds flying south-east and I clicked off a couple of pictures. I had to wait until I'd uploaded the photos at home before I could brighten them and confirm that these were Brent geese.
There were a few pods of common dolphins around and I saw my first porpoises of the year. As we approached Stornoway the wind got up and there were a couple of showers of rain. We'd forgotten that on Saturday there's a longer turnaround time, and as I didn't feel like walking, we sat in the terminal until reloading. The return trip was colder but slightly less grudging with its sightings, and yielded up a Minke whale, more common dolphins, two or three probable Arctic skuas chasing kittiwakes, several bonxies, and two Manx shearwaters. The Brent geese were a first for the ferry; they were the third first this year after the Risso's dolphins and the basking shark - so they're in good company!
