1989 and all that

Twitter has recently been in full song over that Golden-winged Warbler 29 years ago. (Why so much at 29? How much will be posted on the 30th anniversary?) The largest crowds for a twitch in UK history. Ah, nostalgia. I think that back then, in my twitchy days, I went four or five times to enjoy it. And you know what, I have great difficulty recollecting it now. I close my eyes and I just can't 'see' it any more. I really can't.

The one visit to Larkfield I do remember vividly is the February trip that I cut short so I could race back to Rainham in time to carry out a Low Tide Count. I really can close my eyes and still see the Spotted Redshank I had that morning. Each to their own.

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Typing that sent me scuttling off to the shelves for the count write-up in the 1989 Kent Bird Report. The more that things change, the more they stay the same.

As well as the February count, a second was made:

"..in September 1989.. all counts took place on weekdays.. when disturbance was slight, and problems with birds moving from area to area minimal."

"It is hoped that the numbered sections here, or combinations of them, will become standard counting units.. for the benefits of those involved in conservation planning, where data may be required for small parts of the estuary under threat.."

Of course, the areas weren't promoted well enough to birders to ever become established. Still aren't. The individual sector results gained from official estuary-wide surveys aren't actively publicised; data is data after all. Thirty years ago an employee of a second charity co-ordinated local WeBS results. One counter asked them to be put in touch with the counter next door so they could chat and see how things compared. Was told, in no uncertain terms, that wouldn't be happening because of data protection, and in fact much of the data gathered actually belonged to that second charity because they cordinated it. The counter was never told who was counting next door. Needless to say, they lost that particular counter.

Back then, as in recent years, co-ordinated counts were not the norm. At least the weekend vs. weekday differences in high tide roosting behaviours had been identified and highlighted.

Back in 1989 a second need had also been identified, to try to get some decent autumn counts as well as 'winter' (October to February). To look through the monthly totals in county Bird Reports up to my return in 2013, it would seem half-decent autumn species totals on the Medway were minimal. Wrong.

Yes I bang on. Often the reply I get is 'oh you have all the answers'. I really don't. I'm just well-read. Others found and published the answers at a county level nearly three decades ago.

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Of course, there's an elephant in my 1989 memory storage room, which needs highlighting for next, and the next, and the next generation birders to learn from. Twitter might have been filled with that Golden-winged Warbler this past week, birders on the sea wall have been talking to me about that Common Yellowthroat.

"The first county record of this American landbird involved a first winter male present at Murston from January 6th to April 23rd.."

To say this bird came to polarise locals is an understatement. The fallout between 'camps' led to the eventual demise of the informal 'North Kent Birders' group. No more social meet-ups down the Hastings Arms, no more attempts by the NKB to build local coverage, through efforts such at co-ordinated searches along eastern Sheppey. 30-ish birders out, ensuring full coastline coverage, looking for autumn migrants- great stuff, never since repeated. And some birders slowly switching off, withdrawing from the 'scene'. With a turn-over/reduction of WeBS counters in the years that followed haunting this estuary for years.

That (plus subsequent downers here in the following years involving birds I'd never even seen or invited to) helped me reach a decision more than a dozen or so years ago; I would never 'see' a county scarce or rare, again.

By that I meant not only I wouldn't see other's finds, but also I would never bother 'self-finding' anything again. Sniff of a rare? Turn around and walk away. They really are just not worth it. The inflated values put on them devalue other species, ones that need greater worths recognised.

And before you ask, nope, I never saw the Yellowthroat. I suspect if I had done, it might well now be just like that Golden-winged; wiped clean from my memory banks as 'just a rare'. So many of the birds I twitched back then are gone from the memory bank.

And nope, I didn't even hear about it for ages. Was told about it in a phone conversation with one of the observers, several months after it had left. We had been talking about something completely different. At the end, they raised the subject, they felt I should know, but they were clearly still worried about reactions they were getting. So they were amazed that someone could take it well as I then did during that conversation; I just congratulated them, and stressed I had no problem over it; I could see from their perspective they had acted well within the Birdwatchers' Code of Conduct. It was just a bird.

Fast forward 29 years. One seawall conversation this past week went on about how the Yellowthroat 'killed' North Kent Birding. I can agree with that, partly. (It wasn't really the Yellowthroat's fault.)

The other comment I got was the tired old 'and I really should have been allowed to see that bird' rant. I explained that since that Yellowthroat the Hubble telescope had been launched and helped confirm the universe doesn't revolve around their life/county list (with a real life smiley face of course).

Which is why you shouldn't ever read this blog, or my tweets, hoping for rarity/scarcity news. There won't be any. I'm not doing it to wind you up, dear reader, I'm doing it to protect my own sanity. Because I know how decades-old suppressed birds just keep haters hating, on both aisles of the Broad Church of Birding.

Postscript:
Six months later, and the County newsletter is seemingly warming things up for the 30th anniversary. Oh I do love it when the author has already supplied the answer to their inferred question. (And even I wouldn't ever claim there was a 'rampage' on the streets!)

Raising the bar for Bar-taileds

Following on from the first Bar-tailed Godwit post, had a nice hour discussing Bar-tails with the Reverend. Started by confirming he'd only ever ringed a handful at Oakham over the decades. When present around the island, they would number only fours, fives, maybe up to as many as a dozen on a red-letter day, but never more than that.

What was interesting was a nice anecdote confirming their dislike of the softer, siltier mud so often found around the inner basin. When present, the birds would usually only frequent the northern shore of Oakham, where the flats were much harder. Only after really strong south-westerlies, might they appear on the south side, and only for a few weeks. The tidal action would havescoured the soft silt from the harder base below, much preferred by their prey.

On the matter of prey, The Reverend let slip the highest concentration of lugworm in the estuary was actually inside Oakham. Because he had built a sluice to allow control of water levels within the island, for much of the year, especially during the breeding season, the mud inside Oakham was under water. The lugworms, washed in as youngsters, loved such conditions. Obviously things will have changed since the Station closed, but back in the day the pool was full of lug.

Clearly I need to get the kettle on, get more biscuits in and pick the Reverend's brains some more.

Setting the bar for Bar-taileds

Gause's Law or the Competitive Exclusion Principle:  where two species compete for the same limiting resources, they cannot coexist at constant population values. When one species has even the smallest advantage over the other, they will dominate in the long term.

Odd place to start, but for the Medway, worth understanding the differences between Bar-tailed and Black-tailed Godwit.

Bills. In general, Bar-tailed is shorter, fractionally, with overlap between nominate race and islandica. But Bar-tailed also has slight upcurve, Black-tailed is straighter. Why? Well, we'll tie the legs in as well at this point, Bar-tailed also have shorter legs. So they sit closer to the ground, feed with a shorter bill with a slight sweep. They are designed to feed, ever so slightly, differently. Black-tails feed in deeper water. The creeks of an estuary are perfect. They are happy to stand up to their bellies and probe along the water edge on the more sharply-shelving edges. Bar-tails are happiest on the more open, shallower-shelving flats of open bays and shores. 'BWP' notes studies showing they seek out active lugworm casts. On the flats around the Swale, Bristleworms are taken in high numbers; these are not seen in the Medway in any number. Other studies confirm lugworm, even where not main prey, is main energy content.

Some interesting work has been done on their feeding ecology. Flock-feeding is successful- spread along shore, more shorter-billed males to the shore, more females in the water. Lone birds are poor feeders in comparison.

All this helps explain why on the Medway most Bar-taileds are seen on the eastern basin, especially between Stangate and Queenborough Spits plus, as the winter progresses, Bedlams (though this does not necessarily an influx, merely a change in area usage.

The central flats often turn up a handful of birds, as does the western basin. Hardly ever in large enough a number to suggest a regular flock. Part of the reasoning behind this will be the mudflat profiles, part may well be down to preferred prey species. Whilst needs must, and most waders will be catholic in tastes, when preferred food is available, they will take it. Lugworm is erratic and in small numbers up to Gillingham. Next most taken in studies, a type of bristleworm, is one that, for whatever reason, favours only the deep water channel- so, found in profusion near Stangate/ Queenborough. (The screengrab is from the excellent National Biodiversity Network website.)

Any double-figure count in the eastern basin is noteworthy. Holloway, summarising records for Gillingham to 1984: "a few birds spend the winter on the mud-flats each year and small parties of birds in full summer plumage are occasionally seen in late spring.." Randomly grabbing one of the Country Park reports, 1993: "two records only. Motney Hill on 17th September, two birds and a single bird at Riverside 18th November.." Small parties or lone birds. Based on feeding rates, they're probably not in optimum habitats up-estuary.

Overall, in all probability the status of the Bar-tailed Godwit on the Medway estuary has changed little since the 1990s, in line with English trends (as per the WeBS screengrab).

In recent winters three-figure counts in the western basin have not been hard to come by, though usually just below nationally important numbers (380 plus).As most data comes from the WeBS winter months, the oversummering birds are not always recorded (usually found between Ham Ooze and Queenborough) and the short-staying passage flocks get overlooked; these are usually small, not making three figures, but great to see.

One caveat- as with most species on the estuary; distance will play tricks on you. In flight, in some lights, the Black-tails will not give their white flashes up easily. If you suspect Bar-wits in number away from the regular areas, work 'em hard.

Lord of the Ringos

One Ringo to rule them all,
(one Ringo to fight him),
one roost to make all safe,
 and over high tide bind them.

(J.R.R. Thornton, 'Birds of the Mordor Estuary')

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Sometimes things just come together. Watch a behaviour, make a considered guess, then find the reference in 'Birds of The Western Palearctic', or similar. Had puzzled over this the past couple of winters, watched it play out the past week.

The Ringed Plovers are on the move. Not migrating, just displacement within the estuary. Many hold a feeding territory, and those close to the footpaths can be almost guaranteed. Right up until the time the Dunlin hordes begin to increase their feeding periods on the higher flats.

Ringos, just like many of the Plovers, feed mainly by sight, employing a watch-dash-feed technique. They can put up with some inter-species close competition, but as numbers grow, feeding disturbance grows as their prey retreats from increased vibrations from all those feet and bills.

This past week Ringo numbers around Rainham Docks East and Sharps Green Bay have dropped as Dunlin numbers have gone up. At the same time numbers have increased short distances away, at Copperhouse, Bloors and Otterham. This morning three Ringos disputed ownership of the creek right in front of the north-west corner of Bloors. After an hour or so's chasing, two held the banks, one had retreated out towards the wreck of PAS1511.

One quick read of 'Birds of the Western Palearctic' later, and things fall into place. Studies at Lindisfarne had shown this to be a routine behaviour.

WeBS in past few years has had a Medway peak in February. This could only be true if there was a regular mid-winter influx. Studying the excellent graphs available on the WeBS link (poor screengrab below), it is apparent this has not been the case at local or national level. My own records reflect a species most numerous during the passage periods with steady winter numbers, albeit slightly higher in the second half of a winter.

Now why would that be? They like sandier flats, and several of these extend out to the centre of the estuary. In better feeding weather, it could be birds can obtain enough food further out. It might be there is a slight adjustment by birds feeding on the mid-estuary flats moving shoreward. As they have to 'make do' in the face of high calidrid numbers, they might well have to take up more sub-optimal areas, and switch to closer roosts? They are certainly easier to find now during the low tide cycle, with a lot more picked up on call as they dispute new territories.

The international threshold stands at 730; the Medway numbers are nowhere near that. But with in excess of 225 present along the southern shore, from personal knowledge the actual estuary winter population routinely nears, perhaps breaks, the GB threshold of 340.

Why any counts of Ringed Plover for the various individual sites around the estuary can be really useful.

Before leaving, worth looking at Low tide counts (available from the same excellent link):

36 is an extremely low result, and in no way representative of the true numbers on the estuary that winter; even when uncounted sectors (grey) are considered, many more birds were found during the intertidal periods.

Previous results can also be seen via the webpage:
   2005/06-  30     /  17   /  0.05
   2004/05-  332  /  122  /  0.08
   1996/97-  442  /  315  /  0.05

If present counts are correct, that drop in 05/06, and the most recent partial count do not represent the population here.

For further info on the southern Medway's roosting Ringed Plovers, try my previous blogposts here (numbers) and here (disturbance).

Winter surge

A whole metre on top? At least the spring tide was a low one- 5.7 metres. And the strong winds had died down. Topping out wouldn't be too choppy, birds should behave.

Copperhouse an hour before high tide

But they didn't. Instead of ending up due north, they went west to Hoo Island. More specifically, Hoo saltings, between the island and Folly Point; Dunlin and Knot could be seen putting the air brakes on and dropping down behind Hoo Fort. The only theory I have for this is the strength of the winds during the past 24 hours, peaking at a 63 m.p.h. westerly in the wee small hours. Hoo saltings are sheltered from westerlies behind the raised land of Hoo island. Unfortunately it can only really be viewed from the north shore, so I have to presume most were on the saltings rather than the island itself. As the tides continue to rise over the years, Hoo might become the only safe roost, but for now the island is largely ignored.

Wader flightlines in the hour before high tide

The wildfowl were taking a different approach. Rather than risk time on land (which would mainly be on Ham Green) they were widely scattered over the Rainham creek waters. Clearly birds from Copperhouse and Gillingham marshes (with, perhaps, some of the Nor/Friars numbers) had swollen numbers to their highest count for Rainham this winter.

Finally, the Rock Pipit rule worked perfectly- 'peak counts on the shore on a surge'. Many of the island birds have to make for the mainland under such conditions, with double figures on Horrid. Highest counts of Reed Bunting for a while as well.

The Sharps Green Bay wrecks were not only busy, but magnetic; if any of the
birds put up, they soon returned. When the choice of safe roosts is limited, you
 don't move on.

Horrid memories of Common sights.

Trevor Hatton popped by with some old photos he thought I might appreciate. Including one of  me on Horrid Hill some thirty-odd years ago.

Waiting for the boat. Trevor and I were waiting for one of the great characters of the estuary, Chad, to bring his little boat alongside the point for a day on the water. Scrambling out over the rocks to board by an icy plank. Hours freezing on an extremely cold day on the water, so cold that Trevor and I were pushing ice out of the way with a couple of gaffs as we tried to enter Sharps Green Bay.

Trevor had forgotten the Great Skua we'd had right alongside, but remembered the same great highlight as we entered Half Acre at dusk, in a cold mist. Hundreds upon hundreds of Common Gulls roosting on the still water, staring us out, then slowly parting as we chugged our way through. Like a watery version of Hitchcock's 'The Birds'. It was years before I ever saw numbers like that again on the estuary. While in East Sussex I became used to thousands of Common Gulls passing over the cottage heading south for Rye Bay at dusk, but big numbers here only seem to happen occasionally; what conditions cause it, not sure, but always making for a great memory.

All making for a good excuse for us to go revisit Berengrave memories in the next few weeks. Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose.

Posting on the fly #3: the results are in..

The local paper has just published the fly-tipping cost totals for 2016/17 for whole of Kent:

Say what you want about Medway and Swale Councils, they are trying. 6,880 incidents in a year. £376,620 of their budgets is being spent on cleaning up after those lovely people (£1.3 million for the county as a whole.).

Funton; one village missed out on receiving
local newsletter 'The Net' in Dec' '16