A ring from middle estuary, #NT70553

Although I restrict myself to the southern shore I trained as a ringer under my good friend Bill Jones out on Oakham Island, which is frustratingly mid-estuary, just north of the main channel. I hope no-one objects to my publishing an occasional map from some of his ringing recoveries over the years here on this blog for interest. Still my species of the month, yet another story of a...

Dunlin Ring no. NT70553
Ringed as an adult, 14th August 2011, Oakham.
Controlled: 9th April 2013, Vasa Sacos, Santarem, Portugal.
604 days after ringing, 1584 kilometres from ringing site.

The Rio Tejo (Tagus river to most tourists) is the longest river on the Iberian peninsula and empties into the Atlantic near Lisbon. The site is someway inland, mainly due to it being within the largest estuary in Western Europe, much of it Ramsar protected and adminstered as the Reserva Natural do Estuário do Tejo.

A bird in Portugal in April could well have spent much of the winter even further south. After refueling, most likely it would have then hugged the coastline up-Channel for the Waddenzee (or thereabouts). It might not be seen on the Medway in spring; if a 'survivor', then chances are it might well just turn up there on a future post-breeding migration. Few Dunlin pass through our estuary in April/May.

So, tomorrow is time to look at the recent counts and see if the winterers have left the Medway on cue.

A ring from middle estuary, #NT07167

Although I restrict myself to the southern shore I trained as a ringer under my good friend Bill Jones out on Oakham Island, which is frustratingly mid-estuary, just north of the main channel. I hope no-one objects to my publishing an occasional map from some of his ringing recoveries over the years here on this blog for interest. Still my species of the month, here's another story of a...

Dunlin Ring no. NT07167
Ringed 18th December 1995, Oakham.
Controlled: 12th March 1996, Castricum, Noord-Holland, The Netherlands.
Found 85 days after ringing, 302 kilometres from ringing site.

Starting the long return, stopping short of the Waddenzee. Would this have stayed at Castricum for a few weeks, or completed the short hop to the main refueling flats, before making for the breeding grounds? Hard to say for sure, but the date is about right for birds having left their wintering grounds here.

Whereas tomorrow's ringing map will hint at Dunlin on a different migration route/timing...

Reasons to love Queenborough, #1

The seawall murals. Makes Queenborough one of the few places you are guaranteed to see Kentish Plover nowadays.

Another urban legend debunked- the silence of the Jacks

The much rated Collins Bird Guide continues the Jack Snipe tradition; "flushes only when almost trodden on, flies up silently..." Well, you quickly learn to never say never in this birding game. A recent blog post by a Norfolk ringer mentioned hearing Jack Snipe when walking a site, which led to three being caught and ringed.

This was questioned on a Ringers' Forum, but several others confirmed they knew the call from their own muddy larks. I'd actually heard it just a few hours before reading the discussion, having just caught and ringed three Jack Snipe of my own (and four Common Snipe) that evening. One even made it as I released it.

And of course, the flight call could be heard all along on the xeno-canto website.  To my rusty old ear, it is lower when compared to Common Snipe. How often might a birder dismiss as just a Snipe, based on the texts? It might be we ringers hear them more because we're about in the dark, when a vocal alarm to fellow Jacks might be useful, but clearly the other blogger picked up during the day.

To many, the uber-secretive Jack Snipe is an elusive beast. Since moving back to North Kent I've found that during the winter months simply watching a saltings go under on a high spring tide means a possibility of both species having to retreat from their day roost. Others can walk the saltings to get a glimpse, but I'm quite content to sit for an hour and watch all the to-ings and fro-ings. The number of Snipe that might be hiding in one small site can be pretty impressive- first time I sussed this was when I counted nearly 50 out of Twinney saltings south of the wharf one February afternoon.

Still another week or two for the main departure, still time to keep an ear out.

A picture post, from March 2014

Above the estuary, Basser Hill

Woodland warning

Mergansers, Copperhouse

Twinney sunrise

Curlew, Funton

Raspberry Hill Rookery

Barksore

Rainham Docks

Shelduck

The Fishing Pond, Upchurch

Apple blossom, Lower Halstow

Foreshore feeding Collared Doves, Otterham

The gulleries: a fine line between love and hate

Each year around this time I blow the dust off volume XI of Bannerman and Lodge's 'The Birds of the British Isles'. Though the same age as myself, one chapter still holds good to this day, a wonderfully detailed but succinct account by Niko Tinbergen, 'An introduction to the behaviour and displays of British gulls'.

What gets me every time I revisit is the similarity between greeting ceremonies and threat postures- the fine line between aggression and bonding takes some crossing it seems. A slower repeated ritualisation of the threat display changing into an appeasement position becomes the bonding gesture. Prospective partners have to meet time and time again to allow the female to slowly overcome any 'flight' response, and at the same time ensure the male loses his initial aggressiveness. No lovey-dovey long term monogamous greeting and straight down to nesting as we've been fed over the years by the TV documentaries, even though some pairs bond for life they still have to renew their vows, carefully. Conflict, dumping, scrapping, sulking; if I ever made a show about it, I'd probably have to call it something like 'Medway Shore'.

The gradual warming over the past few days has seen more birds about in the Black-head Gull colonies, and the appearance of more nesting areas in use, especially over the high tide. What is clear is that during the low tide a good number of prospective pairs are sitting close-by, around and about the saltings. As the tide covers their mudflats, a few remain on what is now a watery 'pre-breeding territory', but others, those whose bonds are growing stronger, chance their luck within the gulleries for a couple of hours.

Long-standing pairs are usually first back on territory, but still have to allow their personal space to shrink, as they start to tolerate neighbours. Gaps start to fill.

Why do I now have images of a school disco filling up for my 'Medway Shore' docu-drama? Perhaps because a lot are hanging around the edges, shuffling their feet, too embarrassed to make their  move. Loafing areas close to shore are still in use. These birds just sit there. Wimps. A personal theory is being shot down at the moment; I had wondered whether these birds would be mainly still in 'winter plumage', but clearly not the case. Probably just young love. Things are warming up, they'll soon get all the bug- or as 'Handbook of the Birds of the World' puts it, contagious coitus.

Sharp's Green car park- a.k.a. Makeout Point

What is the Waddenzee?

Of course some of the UK favour a Brexit and have much less to do with Europe, but for birders in the south-east of England the Waddenzee should really be as well known as the Wash, and it has much more of an influence on 'our' birds here in the south-east than the likes of Morecambe Bay, but still many don't know much about it.

Looking again at the Dunlin recovery map for JN69442, the straight line I added may help lead the eye to deepest Russia, but of course the bird wouldn't have actually flown that route. Chances are it hugged the mudflats along the North Sea and through the Baltic Sea. The Waddenzee is the Dutch name for a large intertidal zone in the south-east North Sea, running from The Netherlands through Germany and on into Denmark, now added to the map in red.

I tend to use Waddenzee, the Dutch name. I just don't feel a need to Anglicise. Plus the Germans use that name. (Or at least some Germans- they also call it Wattensee, whilst the Danish say Vadehavet.) The birds don't care, they just know they have a brilliant refuelling site along the East Atlantic Flyway.

For readers who haven't come upon the Flyway concept before, migratory studies have revealed clear favoured routes for seasonal migrations between continents. The East Atlantic Flyway is the chosen route between high Arctic breeding grounds and Western Europe on into Africa.

Heading from Russia to overwinter in west/south-west Africa? No problem, skirt the edge of the Northern European Plain to the Waddenzee and beyond:

Coming down from high Arctic? No problem, drop down off of the tip of Scandinavia and refuel in the Waddenzee:

Heading for the UK? No problem. The flyway isn't really the narrow band I've added, you can take a direct flight or stopover in the Waddenzee (why some of the peaks in certain wader species aren't seen until towards the end of the winter):

For the non-/beginner birder, the image of the Waddenzee being a 'hub airport' becomes more clear when you don't just think about these flight routes, but start adding in flight times. The site is busy for a considerable part of the year. 'Our' Medway Dunlin are off transiting via the Waddenzee at the moment, and will be refuelling there for a few weeks yet. The Dunlin that moved further south as far as Africa won't be on their return flights several weeks yet.

Maps of the Waddenzee, together with detailed species accounts covering  nearly a quarter of a century, can be found in an excellent report available online- Trends of Migratory and Wintering Waterbirds in the Wadden Sea 1987/1988-2010/2011 (well worth a read, even though they only went and Anglicised the flippin' name!)

An estuary retreat

The Dunlin departure was apparent from just before mid-month. In the eastern half of the estuary, the roost numbers dropped and for the remaining birds very few now followed with the tide- it was almost as if the falling pressure of numbers allowed the smaller flocks to feed more leisurely.

This effect was the same in the western half, but not as apparent to the casual observer, as numbers loitering on the flats close to Rainham might not, at first, have seemed to have dropped. But close to this prime area, Dunlin using the flats east of Horrid Hill were greatly reduced, and fewer flocks could now be found out mid-channel. Birds that remained were not moving far. Correlations/causations- certainly the second half of the period was notable for some particularly slack neap tides, helping stop the Rainham flats from draining quickly, but it was also noticeable the birds were choosing not to roost so further away, largely giving up on Bishop and using the nearer Friar's saltings instead. Reasons can only be guessed at; e.g., could the antics of the gulls re-establishing on Bishop now be having an effect? Why risk moving a tad closer to the two young Peregrines often seen loafing on Nor? The roosting Dunlin were certainly being put to flight more often, heading south-west to Motney saltings, which they had ignored for the greater part of the winter.

Questions, questions. Including, of course, 'so how do the numbers compare?'

As before, these numbers for the south Medway are merely a representation, impossible to simply 'add up'. If I had to offer a considered opinion, I'd estimate a drop of about 50-60% between periods. Now very interested to see what changes the third period brings.

The gulleries: pairing territories

For a little while now the gulls have been reclaiming the islands. the thinly spread Herring and Lesser Black-backed Gulls had already been mooching around their sites for a couple of weeks, while in the last ten days the numbers of Black-headed Gulls taking up position on the islands has increased substantially.

As appears to be the norm, best sites are claimed first. Here on the Medway, as elsewhere, higher ground goes first. The textbooks point to experienced breeders returning early and claiming the prime sites. For somewhere like Greenborough, that means the central mounds and few of the more vegetated high spots on the seawall. For somewhere like Millfordhope, the East Enders are back, but not much activity from the lower-lying West Enders yet.

Inferior sites are also ignored in these early days; no activity yet on the barer walls of Nor, but the well-vegetated adjoining Friars nesting areas are re-occupied. Nearby Bishop is very busy as well, where the first 'dreads' are now taking place (all the birds rising silently together).

In any tidal cycle the highest seen each month are the 'springs'. We have one more set of the very high spring tides to go before breeding can get going in earnest. Although it might look like breeding is starting now, some of the texts point towards 'pairing territories' being used during this early period. Personally, I suspect we see a good deal of this here. I base this on the birds at the main colonies never being anywhere near as tightly packed as they will be once settled. Pairing territories are for displaying and bonding, and are always somewhat bigger than an actual nest territory.

So other birds set theirs up nearby; on the mud (or water), or along the shoreline (I often encounter pair displays on the Sharps Green car park beach)- By the time of the April spring tides the birds will be packing themselves in tight, but many will be washed away.

A hundred years ago the crews of the local fishing boats had a name for the time following such a spring- the weeks between the highest of the regular spring tides when much of the breeding could take place- 'Bird Tides'. This year's Bird Tides look challenging for the Medway gulls:

In the estuary a tide over about the 5.9 metre mark causes problems for any of the lower-lying nests. They can put up with some inundation, but if there are strong winds/ poor weather at this time, as in May 2015, matters will be much worse. The forecast height for this year's May springs will certainly cause quite a few problems for many nests, but gulls are a resilient bunch and relaid clutches then have a fair chance of success unless, of course, we suffer low pressure over the lower springs in June and July.

Springs always make for interesting viewing, especially with forecast heights creeping up year on year. The dates are already highlighted in my diary.

Spring tide, April 2015; prelude to the Bird Tides

Foreground- Greenborough seawalls; behind, higher land on Burntwick

During the Bird Tides:
The west end of Millfordhope, with Slayhills saltings behind,
spring tide, May 2015

A short cross-section of the Bishop colony on May springs, 2015

Probably the best guide in the world. Or on this blog at least.

The latest part of the estuary walks guide, Riverside Country Park (east), has just been uploaded. It just might not be as good as the excellent leaflets, free from the Visitor Centre...

...but I'm pretty dang confident it will probably be better than some books that have been published over the years:

Back in the 90s I knew I shouldn't have bought "The Good Birdwatchers Guide" 
just on the strength of that missing apostrophe in the title.

It got the park name wrong.
It completely ignored all the local facilities in Medway (population then c. 240,000).
It thought Medway had no beds.

It sent you miles away for tourist info.
It didn't think there was a decent pub north of the North Downs.

 It highlighted the village of Newington as nearest large conurbation (pop. c. 2,300).

Other than that, spot on...

A ring from middle estuary- #JN69442

Although I restrict myself to the southern shore I trained as a ringer under my good friend Bill Jones out on Oakham Island, which is frustratingly mid-estuary, just north of the main channel. I hope no-one objects to my publishing an occasional map from some of his ringing recoveries over the years here on this blog for interest. As I've now made them my species of the month, this story has to be of a...

Dunlin Ring no. JN69442
Ringed as a pulli, 15th July 1994, Yabari, Sabetta, Yamal Peninsula, Yamalo-Nenets, Russia.
Found: 18th February 1998, Oakham.
Found 1,314 days after ringing, 4,285 kilometres from nest site.

1998 was an interesting year for the Dunlin of the Yamal Peninsula- a paper was published in International Wader Studies confirming Siberian Dunlins calidris alpina migrate to Europe; first evidence from ringing Unfortunately JN69442 was just a little too late to feature in the article, but it surely would have made print for the rarity value of the finding circumstances:

Dead- taken by predatory bird- ring found in owl pellet

Bill has dined out on this story over the years. His then assistant, Andy, had picked up the pellet and joked that there might be a ring in it. Bill laughed and told Andy he'd checked hundreds and hundreds of pellets over the years without any luck so, if there was, Andy could keep it. The rest is history. (Bill is off to Wales to see Andy next week- I'll have to get him to ask if he still has the ring.)

For any pedant ringers/historians reading this (I cannot be the only one, surely?) the BTO notification paperwork quoted USSR:

Of course, The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics had actually been dissolved in 1991, some three years before it was ringed. With typical socialist efficiency, this bird was documented as coming from somewhere that didn't exist(!).

Of course, bird rings often avoid quoting the country name, choosing instead somewhere that might intrigue a finder: British Museum, Moscow (Paris, Oslo, Madrid, etc). Makes sense in a strange way- after all, the birds don't recognise our own silly boundaries.

Only the final odd twist in this tale was the actual address quoted on this particular ring- Gdansk. It turned out Polish ringers had mounted the expedition, and used their own scheme's rings (with permission) so as to help ensure prompt news of any birds found (avoiding that Socialist efficency). Of course, since then co-operation between schemes has got a lot better, thanks to bodies such as Euring, and results can come through quite promptly. Not yet perfect, but getting there.

More details of interesting Dunlin ringing recoveries can be found on the BTO website. (And lovers of displaced migrants, when checking the map there don't miss the single record on the extreme left, nine o'clock...)

Say hello, wave goodbye

Spring fever is upon us. Anticipation among birders for their 'firsts' of the year is now building, thanks to the odd Little Ringed Plover and Wheatear appearing in the UK. Searching for 'firsts' has always been easy. Searching for 'lasts'? Never seems to appeal as much to birders. Often you don't realise for a few days that 'x' hasn't been seen for a while. Makes getting a feel for departing common species all the harder.

Take Dunlin.

On my 'register' for waving off during March, and in line to be my 'blog bird of the month' over several coming posts.

There are three races that use the UK.The breeding population is Calidris alpina schinzii. The evidence points to them spending the winter in south-west Europe and north-west Africa and, like many British returnees, they favour a western route home to breed. Not much need to touch Kent.

C.a.arctica, from Greenland are transients, again mainly by-passing the south-east en route to and from west Africa.

Which leaves C.a.alpina. The vast majority of Dunlin in the UK for the winter are this race.

At this point I'll remind you the Medway estuary is 'inland'. C.a.alpina that have wintered at other sites around southern England and down through France will stick to the Channel in transit; why coastal sites pick up on many more spring/autumn movements than seen within the 'inland' estuary here. When I worked near Rye in East Sussex, tripped over them in September, here the Medway's first real numbers aren't until October, and spring effectively finishes in March- not many drop in.

But most breeders aren't back on territory until late April at earliest. Where do the Medway birds go in the interim?

The Waddenzee. Just as in the autumn, over on the Dutch/German border the Waddenzee is the transit hub. Leave the wintering grounds, go part-way to feed up there and await conditions for making the return at just the right time. Ringing has shown that waders in the south-east depart without putting on fat reserves. Ringing has also shown that on arrival on their breeding grounds they will be carrying additional fat, in case the weather turns nasty. Dunlin are heavier in spring than autumn. Dining out closer to the breeding grounds means they can pile it on and not waste it all on the journey. Saving nearly 600 kms off of a 4,200 km urgent flight must help.

Now here's a question I've had since I got back to the Medway three years ago. How representative are published figures to date for March Dunlin on the Medway? Taking a mix of WeBS and individual counts from the county bird reports it was clear that there perhaps wasn't as much known as we might think:

Having served a short period as North Kent recorder, I found myself reading several things into the pattern based on my own biases.

First, the large drop in numbers in recent years could well be down to incomplete WeBS coverage. Then for pre-millennium, the variance in high/low figures could be weather related- departure delays/advances are a possibility. Of course, it could still be other factors. If count dates move, then this could have a knock-on; the 10th might be a lot different to teh 20th. Individual counters covering important sectors out of synch, perhaps at later dates than a WeBS core date, might mean birds have exited in-between.

My niggle. Many 'general' birders are unaware of the importance of boundaries. Already their counts might just be noted as 'Riverside Country Park', while in reality they had only visited one part of the park. And their submissions wouldn't note time or tidal state. Really tough for any Report compiler to make use of what had been received when trying to write any meaningful account. If the boundaries aren't publicised widely, how can birders appreciate them?

At some point in March, we can reckon on numbers dropping away here. Part of why I set myself a target of getting counts for all areas on the south shore during each ten day period. First year back, 2013, I coloured me red throughout the whole of March, and April was pretty darn orange, thanks to a prolonged cold snap. In the mild March of 2015, the exodus happened right at the start of the second ten-day period. And of course, I don't count the northern shore. It seems likely the whole estuary is being under-represented. The County Society acknowledged this a few years back- "it is likely that some counts presented in the tables under-estimate the true totals" even after including all received "higher non-WeBS counts in the tables".

So, any count, any time, is of value. If you are an estuary birder reading this (any estuary), I'm sure your county Society would love you to pieces if you provided them with this sort of additional information. For the Medway I intend to complete my 'where to watch guide' on this blog by this coming autumn, including referencing all BTO WeBS/ Low Tide Count core areas.

Although I record my inter-tidal counts to a much smaller scale (I have too much time on my hands, clearly), each count is cross referenced to the relevant BTO Low Tide Count area, so I can produce comparative charts for all the more common species. The BTO map (with a north south divide in red for my purposes) of the Medway appears below:

which for my purposes becomes

so that all my counts of Dunlin during these first ten days of March this year end up looking like

And not a number in sight. Of course, my mantra is not to count for a number, but to count to understand. Besides, I've had to spread all these counts over a nine day period (I've got tomorrow off, I think I'll go birding) so there really ought to be some Dunlin duplication in there. But this of course mimics Low Tide Count methodology, setting out to show the importance of various areas during a period of the tidal cycle. Now of course I wouldn't be normal if I didn't think I have a reasonable idea of just how many are along the southern shore (it's around about orangey-red, give or take some light blue). Joking aside, my fun this month will come from comparing this map to the counts I'll be mapping out between the 11th-20th and 21st-31st. Watch this blog.

I hope that's nudging a few readers to think about ways to spice up their own 'last sightings'. All those 'first dates' can wait a bit longer(!)

A different tide

Having limited my outings the past three weeks (thanks to a pulled back, still out most days, just a couple of hours though) I felt up for an additional ebbing tide count a couple of mornings ago, as the mud at Funton would be beginning to appear about a half-hour after dawn. I was keen to see what had roosted locally, and how far birds were prepared to travel to start feeding.

I usually try to stick to covering tides, to make comparisons simpler, but I have a bit of an itch now, wondering whether to switch to ebbing tides, or even try routine 'through the tidal cycles' (a series of full counts made every hour over the tidal range- always more enticing in better weather!).

An ebb every now and then has been a real sorbet.

The shelter of the Barksore sea-wall and saltings provided the expected numbers of Avocet, Redshank, Grey Plover, Curlew and a handful of Godwit while the saltings at Bedlam held their Grey Plover and, as is often the case after an overnight rise, Dunlin.

When the mud started to appear, the expected spread of waders shuffled into position with Funton Creek attracting biggest numbers, then the Reach, and finally Bedlam's Bottom:

A fourfold reasoning for favouring the Creek:
1) Fresh water, bathing, drinking.
2) Impact of water conditions on available prey.
3) Afforded some shelter from the winds by the Barksore wall.
4) Lack of human recreational disturbance

As the tide continued to retreat, the Creek birds made for the centre of the Reach. So did any Bedlams waders excepting, for the main part, the Redshank. Derisory numbers appeared from elsewhere on the estuary, birds clearly choosing to feed close to where they had found themselves roosting the night before. On a rising tide birds would pour in, but for a dropping there really was no reason to.

For the rise that day I might have been expecting about at least twice times that number of Dunlin. A perfect example of why noting tidal condition is important. These first years back on the Medway I've deliberately stuck to rises, but am contemplating a change in emphasis for 2016-17. Watch this space

Revisiting the texts I was intrigued by references to late winter pre-departure activity including a tendency for smaller flock sizes. Research has shown a tremendous loyalty to particular flats within an estuary, so might this help mask the actual numbers present at this time? Especially if they also become more mobile? The Dunlin roost in the west is usually countable at some point over the tide, but the east can be messier from shore.

Questions. All I knew was the ebb had been enough of a change to help keep me focused on the rises.

of the North Kent Marshes

With time in the field limited to the minimum needed for counts of late (thanks to a pulled back) I've had an excuse to lose myself in a new book out this past week, 'of the North Kent Marshes', by Ian Jackson and Keith Robinson. A history of the people, places and wildlife of our marshes. For birders of a 'certain age', it throws up some wonderful reading.

On randomly opening the book I was stunned to see a 'new' essay by the late Eric Gilham- 'Birds of the North Kent Marshes, additional records of the birds seen in the period 1947 to 1952 inclusive'. Many local birders still proudly own battered copies of 'Gillham and Homes', the seminal work on the North Kent Marshes published back in 1950. The first Kent Ornithological Society report was 1952, so this update to G&H provides welcome additional historic records from these 'missing' five years.

From my perspective of the Medway's southern shore, there is plenty to enjoy in the book especially, in my opinion, the essay on 'Mr Webb's Inclosures' (Greenborough, 1883), detailing the doomed attempts to fight tides and reclaim the crumbling island (beautifully illustrated with a hand-drawn map featuring several local names in use at that time that were new to me and will be resurrected by me in due course!).

Hoo features heavily; a quarter of the 205 page book is dedicated to a series of essays brought together under the title 'The road to Egypt Bay' (again, with a lovingly drawn map of the area). My favourite tale is the detailed account of the attempted White Stork re-introduction, started in the nests of the Northward Hill heronry, then continued at White Horse Farm, Hoo (including a photograph of the young birds on 'nests' on and about White House Farm cottage, from 1936). Other 'birdy' sections along the road include 'a history of the Nordowne duck decoy' and 'living at Swigshole Cottage' by the old RSPB warden Alan Parker.

Sheppey doesn't miss out, thanks in the main to the late 18th century 'blog' of 'Stephen Rouse- the Minster Diarist'. What birder couldn't enjoy historic 'letters from Sheppey' when they read like this?

'Sunday Morning May the 6 1787 about 8 oclock laing in my Garden There can from the East 59 of the Birds called Jays, (or as we call them Joys) and stopped for a few minutes in Mr Liddles Orchad, & then proceeded forward to ye North West. As they never before frequented this Island, and are as numerous all over Kent, it may be looked upon as a very bad Omium and a forerunner of something very extraordinary. Sickness & deseases I expect.'

'The South Side of the Swale' also features, care of John Bartlett's birding memories from the 1950s onwards.

For the ornithological bibliophile there is a biography of  the Victorian naturalist Denham Jordan, the foremost author on our North Kent Marshes (under the nom de plume of 'a Son of the Marshes').

Not just birds. For instance, cetaceans get in a look in, c/o an historic account of a Sei Whale at Gillingham Reach and a more recent tale of ' how not to dispose of a Fin Whale out on Grain.

Add to this essays on the exploitation (a.k.a. 'development') of the marshes, from prehistory through to the Norman Conquest, then right up to date (including along the way 'a description of the Sea Coasts of Kent; May 1724' by one Mr. Daniel Defoe).

There are very many personal accounts of the farming, the wildfowling, the day-to-day village life on the marshes.

Art features too, with a selection of recent sketches by Billy Childish, plus poetry, including Germander Speedwell's excellent piece on birding, 'Sightings', something I fell in love with when I first read it elsewhere a year or so ago.

This book really has something for everyone. The contributing editors have done a superb job capturing the spirit of the marshes as well as they do. For someone like myself, lucky enough to experience and appreciate the Medway on a daily basis, I can honestly say I haven't felt so much for a book in a long while.

Further details on this privately published work, which is limited to a first run of just 500 copies, highlight it as being available locally via the Heritage Hub in the Sittingbourne Forum or the Fleur de Lis in Preston Street, Faversham. Sadly I have no other information for any other outlets stocking it at the present time; but if you enjoy the North Kent Marshes this book really is worth the hunting down.

Please keep a note of the Meds

Their increasingly early arrival, in increasingly larger numbers, raises interesting questions on inland Mediterranean Gulls at this time (and one poor birder in particular has been badgered a lot on the subject a lot of late, you know who you are, so sorry!). Presence inland can mean thoughts sometimes turn to potential evidence of an overland passage. When I worked in East Sussex, the thought certainly crossed my mind, when birds moved north on February/March mornings. However, my home there was on a well-used gull flightline for 000's of birds returning to roost in Rye Bay, and numbers always came back south at dusk.

Of late this birding chum has been finding up to three figure counts mid-county, around the Harrietsham area. That is just some fifteen kilometres due south of Lower Halstow as the gull flies. Studies quoted in 'B.W.P.' state this species can routinely fly 20 to 30 kilometres to feed. When I have watched 'inland' from the northern slopes of the North Downs, gull movements are routine in the hour around dawn, as many Black-headed and Herring Gulls take a flightpath south towards the Weald, with Mediterranean Gulls among them. At this time of year Med Gull foraging changes from coastal to onshore, mainly on short turf/ploughed fields for insects, so the better areas could attract routine numbers- if not yet busy nesting, why not spend time travelling that little bit further for the best feeding?

During the course of the day a steady stream of birds arrive back high at spots such as Lower Halstow. That too could fit with inland feeding, individual birds making their way once having had their fill. Of course, you could also say birds migrating overland are doing the same.

The question then is whether 'his' birds arrive from the north. So I really now need ask my chum to get up early sometime and check. I've not dared push him on that until now; sorry sir, when I mentioned recently I'd be blogging something on your Meds I bet you didn't suss a request for up and out before the crack of dawn coming(!)

What I had already suggested we both look for on mid-morning strolls was colour-ringed birds. The coastal route along the Channel is well-established thanks to colour-reading in places such as the Rye Bay area. (Details on the specific colours used on UK and continental Mediterranean Gulls can be found here.) Few colour-rings from foreign schemes get seen around the Medway. Why should birds following the coast detour through Kent into the estuary? Many are, after all, en route for continental breeding sites. Similarly few colour-rings in these growing inland flocks might just suggest these could be 'local' birds settling back into their pre-breeding behaviour. Of course, the breeding season doesn't starts for a while yet, and there is every possibility many birds in North/central Kent right now might still be moving on to breed, perhaps further north in UK, perhaps over on the continent.

Mixed Mediterranean/Black-headed Gull flock feeding inland, June 2015

So much to learn. The poor lad hadn't realised this would be turning into a mission. I think I'd better go drop him a direct message(!)