Friday, October 25, 2024

A lull in the stormy autumn weather, coinciding with the Isle of Lewis standing in for the Loch Seaforth, prompted us to go for yet another pelagic. We saw a few dolphins from the observation lounge before we'd even left Ullapool. Still lingering "indoors", Greger spotted and I managed to snap through glass, seventeen whooper swans flying high on a south-easterly bearing.


Up on deck, we enjoyed as usual the sense of space and the unimpeded views you get of the sea from the old ferry. However, fewer numbers of tourists and a cold and persistent wind meant there was no competition for "rail room" anyway, while the strong vibrations (worse in some places than others) made using the camera (and even the binoculars) difficult. Greger didn't have a problem with the latter as he'd forgotten to pack his bins!

The ferry took the alternative route, and in the shelter of the Summer Isles there were suddenly loads of birds. I scanned madly but could see no shearwaters or petrels among the gulls, kittiwakes, and shags. Several pods of dolphins were seen out on the Minch, some coming very close and being easily identified as common dolphins.

The journey took almost three hours, and we'd not long disembarked before we were called to board again. We sat in the observation lounge and watched the vehicles driving on below the raised bows.


Before going back on deck, we called in at the Coffee Cabin and had a slice of their very nice raspberry and coconut cake each, Greger with his usual black coffee, me with a comforting hot chocolate. Thus fortified, we returned to the field of battle!

Greger's good as spotting things, and he would call out whenever he saw a bird; it was just unfortunate that there was nothing unusual (and very little that was usual, come to that!) to be seen. Dolphins were once again much in evidence, and I snapped away at them, although I knew the shots were rubbish and would probably all end up in the bin.

In one small pod (at 15.25 - one hour from Stornoway) the animals were extremely active, leaping and splashing at some distance to the south. I felt they were different from common dolphins, and when I had a quick look at one picture through the viewfinder, I thought I could detect a whitish flash or wavy stripe along the animal's flank. I've had this before though, where white "marks" turn out to be just foam or spray from the disturbed sea - but on the other hand, I couldn't make out the distinctive hourglass pattern of the common dolphin. I kept thinking of white-sided dolphin, but having blown up the poor pictures at home and done some research, I'm pretty confident that these were white-beaked dolphins.








This, we agreed, was to be our last pelagic of the year. Still, I s'pose we can always change our minds!    

Monday, October 14, 2024

The Met Office continues to frustrate with forecasts that promise fair, calm weather for the following day and then, on the morning of that day, change it to probable rain and strong winds. I know they often get the weather right, but just lately, for this area anyway, they're getting it wrong fairly often.

The forecast for tomorrow was also good, so should we just wait a day? But what if that, too, changed by tomorrow morning? In the end, we decided to go on the ferry as planned; and under a dark sky threatening rain I walked down to the harbour while Greger diverted to Tesco to buy a newspaper.

While still among the Summer Isles and before we reached Priest Island, I was following a gull flying up the loch when I spotted just below it a tiny bird darting about over the surface of the water. "Petrel!" Greger got onto it but we both then lost it and there was no chance of a pic. The bird had a markedly black-and-white appearance so I'll put it down as a storm petrel.

We had passed under at least two bands of slightly spitting cloud on the way out, and when we reboarded the ferry at Stornoway it was quite definitely raining - so we sat for a while in the area between the coffee shop and the children's play-room. Given the number of children on board, I think it must be half-term - and what with them, scolding parents, and two hysterically barking dogs, the noise was terrific! After a while, feeling slightly battered, I went up; and when Greger joined me later he was amused to see that I was entirely alone. Bliss.


The rain petered out and we applied ourselves once more to searching for birds that just didn't seem to be there. A few gannets, goodish numbers of kittiwakes, the odd group of guillemots, and several great black-backed gulls were all we could spot - until Greger pointed out a flock of birds flying low over the sea. They turned out to be twelve barnacle geese.


These and the storm petrel saved the day. I've been fretting that others spot petrels while I seem to miss them, so this sighting boosted my birdwatching self-confidence a bit. I just wish I'd attempted to snap it - but there wasn't time. Is there ever?          


Sunday, October 06, 2024

Greger, having received his card for ChargePlace Scotland (enabling him to use other chargers than Tesla's own), wanted to try it out at Knockan Crag. I said I'd go with him for the ride and to look for possible migrants in the trees there. Having successfully plugged in, we walked a short way up the trail and I spotted what looked like a chunky bird on a treetop in the small conifer plantation that surrounds a house down near the road. It was a male crossbill - the first crossbill I've seen here.


Leaving the crag car park we pulled into a lay-by quite close to the trees but failed to see the crossbill again. We drove home (where I discovered I'd lost a glove) and after lunch I drove back to the lay-by (where I found the glove!) and eventually a crossbill flew up to do lookout duty.


She disappeared, and quite a long time passed before a male bird briefly showed.


I wondered if they are wandering further from the coniferous plantations "east of Ledmore", that have recently been drastically harvested, in search of food - but crossbills are known to roam about, and in any case, what was a first for me is not necessarily a first for them! It was only by chance that I happened to spot one today.


Thursday, October 03, 2024

Yesterday: The ferry was late getting into Ullapool because of a medical emergency onboard; but with what seemed like less than a full load we were soon on our way. The coastguard helicopter, which had landed on the now empty camp-site, took off as we rounded the point. It was a beautiful day and the visibility was good, but we searched in vain for shearwaters. At Stornoway, a cruise liner new to us was in the dock - bit of a different design from the usual ones, and we couldn't decide if it looked old-fashioned, or futuristic.


On the way back we both spotted a pale bird as it caught up with the ferry; I thought it was an immature gull, and could manage only one shot before it disappeared behind the lifeboat.


Greger was sure it was a skua, and he was right. It's difficult to see, but it has a blue bill with a dark tip. Having done my usual research I'd say it's a juvenile Arctic. Okay, I'm posting the poor picture partly because it's the only photo I got of the only interesting bird all day - but it does show the warm tawny colouring, and I like the way the skua seems to be half-turning its head to look back at us. That was one cool bird!

There was whale activity on the return journey, but of a fragmentary nature. We saw a couple of blows, and Greger had a brief glimpse of an actual body but not enough to say what it was. A bit later I spotted some disturbance in the water not too far off, and called out, only to see two white, black-bordered flukes of a great tail rise above the surface and instantly slip down again. Greger missed it, and so did others around us. It was a super thing to see and I wish I hadn't been the only one to see it - but it happened in the blink of an eye, and the whale didn't reappear.  

There was quite a bit of dolphin activity, though I failed to get any decent shots; I include this photo because I like the texture of the water.


As with the outgoing trip, the ferry on returning took the alternative route through the Summer Isles; and a bit later we passed a small school of porpoises heading down the loch. It had been a lovely day, full of fresh air and sunshine - but I can't help thinking that this year, the Minch has been unusually quiet. It seems that the Little Minch has reported more bird life - we've been on the wrong ferry!

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Two Slavonian grebes were at Ardmair, closer to Isle Martin than to the campsite spit - although later they drifted slowly into Loch Kanaird past the fish farm.



A growing, familiar clamour made me look up - to see a skein of 47 pink-footed geese, followed soon after by a skein of 107, flying on a south-easterly bearing.

On Sunday I made a second attempt to access Tom Ban Mor via the smaller hill, Meall an Torcain. The cloud was down over the higher hills and I'd forgotten my compass! I hate to be a scaredy cat but it's easy to become confused when you can't see far all around you - and I went down again. I found myself following a rib of resistant rock, which reminded me of the day in June 2016 when, coming down from the Fannichs, Greger pointed out something similar on the Beinn Dearg group.


Both features seem to run north-west to south-east. Down on the hydro track, I heard pink-footed geese in the distance and around 130 of them flew over me - also going south-east.

A couple of days before that, a visit to Achnahaird brought nothing on beach and machair. At Badentarbat, I at least saw some distant common dolphins - a small pod of six or so individuals, far out over the sparkling sea.


A bird flying past and landing on rocks nearby didn't strike me as a curlew....


 .....and if I was in any doubt, the lovely stuttering trill as it flew off again confirmed that this was a whimbrel.

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

 ðŸŽµ "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" (U2).....

.....and it isn't for want of trying. Several times I've driven out to Achnahaird, been over east, sailed on the ferry - hoping for waders and shearwaters, in places and at times I've seen them before. Result - next to nothing. So when Greger suggested a pelagic for today I immediately agreed (surely shearwater numbers would be building by now?) and off we went.

On the trip out, Greger pointed to a flock of c25 birds flying in the distance which he thought could be Manx shearwaters. I had reservations, but I think maybe he was right. If so, they were the only shearwaters we saw. The best thing about the first leg was a number of whale blows out to the north, where the horizon was shimmering in a sort of heat haze. The blows were terrific, and we're fairly sure that one or two of them were those of fin whales.

At Stornoway, the old faithful flew in and landed on the "rigging" to check the deck below for crumbs.


Just as I was saying to Greger that it was always one bird and presumably the same one - a second hoodie did a flypast right over us. Oops.

On the return trip, an Arctic (pretty sure of this) skua flew alongside the boat.


There was a little more whale activity, with repeated blows seen far out near a fishing boat. I then saw something large closer to us which I think was a humpback (pictures too awful to post, even for me!).

Back among the Summer Isles, a man pointed out two white-tailed eagles circling above a ridge.


Last night I cheered up when I went out to look at the supermoon, although I wasn't intending to wait up for the partial eclipse; and as I stood admiring it, there came from over the back wall the lovely sound of a male tawny owl. In the ten years we've lived here, we've heard tawnies from the house on just a few occasions, usually in autumn or towards the end of the year. Then I heard a scratching sort of sound, and fetched a torch. Walking carefully round the bungalow I saw a rounded dark hump that didn't belong there, and went back inside to tell Greger we had a hedgehog which he could see from the bedroom window. This again, is by no means an annual occurrence, so we were quite excited. And as I went to close the back door, the sharp call of a female tawny came from the neighbour's garden. I stood there for a while, hoping to see one of the owls in flight - but had to give up in the end. Finally, I walked into the bathroom to see the first large spider of the autumn on the floor. He fitted neatly into the plastic beaker I keep for the purpose, and with a thin piece of cardboard slid underneath I carried him out to the porch and let him go. I suppose that's three species of wildlife for the evening - although I can't say the third one brought me the same joy as the other two!

Tuesday, September 10, 2024

Yesterday: Despite a mixed weather forecast, Greger suggested a pelagic - and in fact we had a fine day at sea, a bit windy but dry throughout and sometimes sunny. The trip out brought goodish numbers of auks and kittiwakes, quite a few fulmars, and several adult and immature gannets. A pair of buzzards circled over Rubha Thuilm (headland of the rounded hillock, I think) as we approached Stornoway harbour - where they still haven't fixed the pedestrian walkway.

Going back Greger spotted both a solitary Manx shearwater.....


 .....and a skua as it flew low over the water, converging with the ferry.



Three rubbish pics - but they'll help me remember why this was an Arctic skua. Otherwise - it was a poor trip for wildlife. Greger had a glimpse of dolphins, but neither of us spotted any whale activity, while a small passerine could not be identified (I had the feeling that we shouldn't really look at such birds through our bins, as this might deter them from making a possibly life-saving landing on the ferry). Back in Ullapool harbour, a white winger was heckled briefly by a herring gull. It might have been the usual viking - I was too tired to investigate.


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