20th
January Ghost riders in the sky Johnny
Cash
A good night's sleep in my sleeping bag on a sofa bed folded out in the
lounge, I was up early and having written up my birding notes and having been
given some breakfast by Dave, we were off together, each on our bikes to Green
Bird Elmley RSPB Reserve. The cycling was easy paced due to the flat
nature of the grassland roads. Elmley was only six miles away and after having
gone over the old bridge overlooked by the high arched new road bridge, which
recently had failed to let cars get across because of thick ice and snow, we
entered the reserve via the dirt track over the marshes. We met Steve Garden,
the manager of the Elmley Conservation Trust by the RSPB reserve sign. He
talked of discord between themselves and the RSPB and the possibility that the
RSPB's lease would not be renewed in a few years time. He also told of the
reserve's size; 3,000 acres of which seven hundred were under the stewardship
of the RSPB. Breeding bird numbers in 2009 had included a huge 250 to 300 pairs
of Lapwing, 180 to 200 pairs of Redshank, eighty pairs of Yellow Wagtail and a
few pairs of Grey Partridge. Steve had originally been a shepherd here but now
there were mostly cattle.
Dave and I cycled down to the RSPB reserve boundary and chained our
bikes to the fence. Hazy sunshine with no wind, we walked the sea wall to the
far end of the reserve, going into the hides along the way and again on the
return journey. A flock of thirty three Barnacle Geese [104] were
feeding with a sizeable number of Greylag, together with a few Brent Geese.
This was the area where on a ridiculously hot sunny summer's day many years
before, back in the '80s, the lads, Alex, Jason and Richard and I had had our
first Great Reed Warbler. We had been able to hear the bird from near the
entrance despite its raucous song being almost drowned out by the singing marsh
frogs.
It was also the area where Steven Allcott, a member of the T.I.T.S, The
Terpsichorean Inspired Twitcher Society, and another ex-pupil of Coppice High
School, had relocated the American Wigeon back in 1991. Well found, Steve!
Now there is a story of yet another rare bird we saw at Elmley. In 1991
my car was an old, an incredibly old Mark whatever Ford Escort. It was a pale
blue wreck of a car and Ian Crutchley and Steven Allcott and I had made our way
down from Wolverhampton to Elmley in order to see and tick off a Marsh
Sandpiper. Unfortunately, the banging, smoking car decided to it was time to
meet its maker when the sump blew off with a large bang, whilst driving along
the A2 near the aptly named Gravesend. With a long oil slick on the road and a defunct
car, we were dragged to the nearby famous café where we awaited rescue in the
form of my former girlfriend, Diane. Diane was then a Senior Sister at the private
Portland Hospital in London and, bless her little cotton socks, she came and
not only picked us up but took us on to Elmley RSPB reserve to ensure that we
all got our Marsh Sand'.
Two things died that day; the car, which was towed away for fifty quid
and my Swift Audubon binoculars. These had seen many better days and had been
with me for over ten years. Sand had got in them the year before when I had
been sleeping on the sand dunes of the Camargue in Southern France and they
were now almost useless with misaligned prisms and knackered focussing rings. I
left them in the departing car.
Even today Diane is mentioned by the lads on our birding trips, fondly
remembered with manic laughter, mixed with terror as we recall another time
Diane came birding with we three. On the way to Cornwall, this time to see an American
Red-eyed Vireo in Cot Valley, Cornwall, Diane was driving at speed, too fast
for her skills anyway and way too fast to try to go up an exit road suddenly on
her own whim, whilst we were going down the M5 south of Bristol. The sound of
the screeching tyres was drowned out by the terrified screeching from we men!
Shaking still, we got to a café where Diane could not explain why she had
suddenly decided to leave the motorway at eighty miles an hour.
This is the time to remember other death-defying feats during excursions
in the car with Diane driving, like the time she almost went up the backside of
an obvious police car whilst travelling way over the speed limit in the middle
lane of the M6 near to Carlisle. The police car pulled inside, allowed Diane to
overtake and calmly pulled her over to the hard shoulder. Now maybe it was
Diane's beautiful pale blue eyes that caught his attention as the police
officer asked her what speed she was doing or was it the large cleavage that Diane
possessed. Anyway she received no more than a cautionary “don't do it again,”
and no caution. There will be more tales to tell of Dynamic Diane when I reach
John O' Groats but that is a long way off.
At Elmley RSPB Reserve, into the first hide we went, Dave and I but
there weren’t many birds; most of them having gone over to the continent to
avoid the harsh winter weather. Along the sea wall on the way were six Marsh
Harriers [105] quartering along each dyke and over areas of saltmarsh and
reed. Two of them had come out of the Great Reed Warbler reed bed and were remarkably
close. What fabulous birds.
Into the Swale Hide overlooking the Swale with the tide out and large
areas of exposed mud. Over three hundred Black-tailed Godwits, eighteen Grey
Plover, over six hundred Oystercatchers, twelve Avocet, over three hundred
Shelduck, one Little Egret, three Turnstone, nine Great Crested Grebes, around
two hundred Dunlin and about five hundred Lapwing all present and correct. Lots
of birds then, I can remember reading Bill Oddie saying that he always felt
that he needed to count every bird in front of him. Well he could have tried
here but the distant flocks of thousands of what we thought were Wigeon and
Teal would have defeated him as they defeated us too. Great to see so many
birds though.
The final walk along the base of the sea wall to the final hide of the
reserve, Spit End, was muddy and progress was slow. On reaching a hide there
and looking out through the windows, there was a remarkably close female Hen
Harrier [106], a ringtail, which was sitting on a post preening. Also seen
form here were eleven Bar-tailed Godwits [107] and a passing Common
Seal.
Dave saw a Short-eared Owl in the distance but I could not make it out
before it disappeared into the grass. It would take me many months to catch up
with one. Walking back, we met a young man doing a survey of wintering Green
Sandpipers for a wind turbine company. The unwelcome news for the company was
that there were high numbers of the sandpipers, good news for birders.
Back at the Swale Hide again and this time all changed as the tide had
come in, with ducks replacing the waders. Still there were eight Ringed Plover
on the last bit of exposed mud. Over the far side I could make out a Red-necked
Grebe [108] and it swam down the river as Dave got onto it too.
A car reversed to meet us as we approached a hide in the middle of the
reserve and so we met Gordon the Warden. A friendly man who said he had been
looking out for us. Back at the RSPB office buildings, the notice board told us
that there were 6,000 Wigeon on the reserve, along with 1,600 Teal and 775
Shelduck; also ten plus Marsh Harriers were in the area. As we were reading a Barn Owl
passed by and we followed it along a track which gave views of Lapwings, winter
thrushes and ten Golden Plover [109]. We then met a London cabbie down
birding for the day in his London Hanson cab, photographing from his open
window. He talked about his remission from cancer just as another barn owl flew
past. As soon as we left the reserve Dave had a puncture and as we had no
repair kit, we walked the six miles back to his home, after stopping at the
Bobbing Apple yet again for another meal.
18.58 miles 376 feet elevation up and down
