Unbridled Relief!

I checked Birdguides to confirm the continued presence of a mega on the east coast, and without further ado, I set off towards Newcastle. Of course, it was never going to be that simple; it never is these days. I arrived to find that the bird was last seen soon after I left! There had been no sign since then, and there remained but a handful of twitchers, all looking pretty glum as they scanned its last haunt: Coquet Island, a kilometre off the coast just south of Amble. Great. I joined them half-heartedly for a few minutes only before cutting my losses and heading north for the consolation prize. At Long Nanny, just south of Holy Island, reached via the National Trust car park, I made my way north for a kilometre and soon found myself at the warden’s hut overlooking an Arctic Tern colony, which was a very pleasant surprise.

Here, amongst the many nesting Arctic Terns, themselves quite absorbing, was the rarity I had come for, and this was a cinch: American Black Tern. True, not a species in its own right (scientific name: Chlidonias niger surinamensis), but a lovely bird to see, resplendent in its immaculate summer plumage and at point-blank range in front of the viewing platform. Frustratingly it was partially obscured by vegetation, the heat haze was playing havoc with my photography and the determinedly stuck rigidly to its nest (when ideally, I wanted it in flight). Yes, its nest – not only had this avian oddity made it to Britain across the Atlantic, it had also chosen to breed with an Arctic Tern (see below)! Its chick(s) will no doubt look even odder! It was distinguished (I understand) by its more extensive glossy black plumage (rather than the more limited dull black of a European Black Tern).

A patient wait brought dividends eventually when the bird’s Arctic partner returned from a fishing trip, bumped the (apparently female) rarity of the nest and forced her into the air and off to feed. The central image above, which I’m actually rather pleased with, was taken when she at long last returned from the sea and lingered in the air briefly before returning to the nest. Once the bird had settled, I knew it would be a while before it took flight again, so I headed off, further up the beach to the Little Tern colony. But before I could get close, I stumbled across the other bird of interest here – on the beach right in front of me: a ‘European’ Black Tern!

I approached cautiously and in so doing managed to capture this beauty on digital film – easily my best shots ever of this (full) species. It was a real treat to get both sub-species of Black Tern at the same site and in such good light; you can see the differences in plumage coloration fairly easily, I think. (Note the dusky/matt black cap of the 'European' contrasting with its pale grey plumage.) Here too, were Little Terns (2) and to round of the collection, Sandwich Tern. (I’m a little annoyed I didn’t manage to add Roseates, which were a little further south…) But the best was still to come. I left both ‘Blackies’ in peace, returned to the car and checked my phone: still no sign of the mega I’d hoped for. Still, I had to head south anyway, so I thought I’d return to the original site on the off chance that the bird might return to its original haunt having spent the day out fishing. It was wishful thinking, I sensed. I arrived at the dunes overlooking Coquet Island, just south of Amble, and casually reached for my scope and camera before ambling (no pun intended) up the short path to the ‘viewing dune’. About ten other birders were scanning, occasionally muttering to themselves. They appeared to be focussing on something, but I sensed a lack of excitement. Nevertheless, I thought I’d better ask what they were looking at. Their response triggered a mixture of panic and wild excitement on my part: it was the mega I had come all this way to see! (It had been re-located moments before I arrived – how lucky was I?!) After a very stressful few minutes when I failed to pick up the bird (it was a kilometre away amongst other terns!), I eventually clapped eyes on the thing, and I could now happily put memories of missing previous individuals of its kind to bed: this was my first British Bridled Tern! This was a tough spot: we were scanning an island about 1km offshore, and the bird was swirling around with hundreds of other terns and gulls, but my patience paid off, and before too long I had nailed it, certain at last of the grey upper-parts, thick dark trailing edge on the underwing contrasting with the bright white underparts, and the dark cap. That was about all I could pick out from this distance, but it was enough. Clambering down the dunes onto the rocks and walking out a little further, I managed to get just a little closer and got some record shots – nothing to write home about but enough to clinch the ID. Most of the time it wheeled around in front of the solar panels on Coquet Island, occasionally drifting further south over the rocks. Despite the distance, I was thrilled to pin this mega down, especially having thought this morning that I was too late, and the bird had gone. So, with the views getting no better, I decided to call it a day; this has been a pretty good day all in all: Bridled, American Black, European Black, Little, Sandwich, Arctic Tern…I’m just a tad annoyed I didn’t have time to get over to Newbiggin to pick up Roseate (and Common). Anyway, it was easy to focus on the positives this time (having almost dipped on that mega), and I drove home with a big smile on my face.