"Tom, your birding diary's pretty weird, you know. In
fact it kind of creeps me out a bit at times," people
keep saying when they see me in the/a field. Well especially
for you, here is a diary entry (or blog post, as it's known)
in the style of 99% of birding blogs.
Today we were up early and excited about going to see the
Roller in East Yorkshire near to the famous Spurn Point bird
observatory. We had recently seen Roller's on our holiday to
Lesbos*, and as they are such beauetifull birds we decided
to go and see this bird. The traffic was not to bad along
the M62, and soon we were driving through beauetifull Hull
and into the dramatic scenery of the Humber estuary.
We parked our car near to where the pager messages had been
telling us to, and soon we bumped into some other
birdwatcher's, who told us that the bird had flown off.
"Oh well," we said, "thats birdwatching for you!"
We spent a very long time standing in the sun, chatting to
some very friendly birdwatchers, I had too put on some
sunscreen to stop myself from getting burned! As we were
standing their we were entertained by some obliging Cuckoo's
which obligingly showed themselves off, and we also had
obliging views of Turtle Dove's - but no partridge in a pair
tree!
At one point someone mistook a Linnet for the Roller**, and
we all had to admit "well we've all been their and done
that ourselfs' before!!!"
The day had now gone on for some time and still we hadn't
seen the Roller. We were all getting tired and hungry. I had
only made enough sandwiches to fill 15 cubic metres of
Tupperware boxe's and our 45 gallon Thermos flask had run
dry many hours ago. Then the pager said that the Roller had
come back. But the little blighter had turned up some
distance away and we all had to drive their too see it.
Thankfully the bird stayed long enough for us all to enjoy
it sat 12 mile's away on the wires occasionally obliging us
with obliging views by catching things off the ground,
eating them and then throwing up***.
* That's not true. I've never been to Lesbos,
but everyone else in the world seems to have been.
** But, quite amazingly, that is true!
*** And that's true as well. It must have
been bulimic.
30th July, Off on us Ollydees
Which of course means that we are going on holiday. Then I'm
back for a week, when I may have some seriously astounding
news for you (or maybe not), before going on me ollydee
again, this time on me own, where I intend to
single-handedly save a species from extinction by spending
11.5 hours each day sat on the top of a cliff in Cornwall
under my Zebco-lite fishing umbrella, sheltering from
vicious howling gales/skin scorching burning sun/both, and
counting Balearic Shearwaters for the
Seawatch South West project, and hopefully not dying of
exposure whilst doing so. If you click on those blue
underlined words in the last sentence you can read all about
it.
Normal infantile shit dross pointless postings will return
shortly, only now they'll be from Glossop, not Manchester,
which will be better, trust me. Also, don't forget autumn is
just around the corner which is always good for a laugh and
means that I may have some interesting birdspotting diary
entries to write, instead of continually posting YouTube
clips to cover up the fact that I have fuck all interesting
to write about.
Well we're settling in quite nicely, it's a very friendly
area. The first person to visit us was Reverend Persuivant
from the local church of St.Wilbur (patron saint of fertile
crops), he seems like a damn
nice chap. Then later that day we had a visit from our new
neighbours the Helvellyns who brought us a freshly
slaughtered goat as a present, apparently it's a local
custom:
The Helvellyns with Lord Beaumont (back
right)
Life's certainly a lot more laid back out here in the
countryside compared to the crazy hustle and bustle of
Manchester. This is the view from our front window:
And this is the view from our back window:
Reverend Persuivant giving a sermon
Reverend Persuivant invited us to
a performance by the town's finest collection of musicians,
and oh what a tremendous night we had:
23rd July
Wahey, so I've finally moved house. It's really different
out here, well it would be seeing as I've moved to a
different continent!
That's right 'cobbers', we've moved down under! Tom
McKinney's Birding Diary 2007 will now be brought to you
from Glossop, South Australia. It was one hell of a house
move, but we're both okay, thanks for asking. I'll sure miss
Manchester, and England as a whole, it's not all that bad a
place really. So remember, that's Glossop in South
Australia, and NOT Glossop in Derbyshire which is about 18
miles away from Manchester... hmmm...
Okay, I'll admit it, you've caught me out, I haven't really
moved to Australia, but I had you going, yeah? I did, yeah?
Just for a second, right? You fell for it? Yeah? Awesome! I
fucking rule.
So yeah, here we are in Glossop, Derbyshire. Below you can
see the huge distance we moved:
I'll tell you some more about the place and
the birds shortly, but you may find it amusing to compare
Friday's frontpage headline from the South Manchester
Reporter with that of the Glossop Advertiser:
South Manchester Reporter
DAD'S GRIEF OVER BRUTAL KILLING OF CHILDREN
Glossop Advertiser
£100 FINE IF BIN LEFT ON STREET
Sorry for the lack of updates, though I'm not really very
sorry at all. Things will be back on track soon, I promise,
just stick with me. I have things to tell you, like going to
see the beautiful Roller in Yorkshire the other day, and
lots of other exciting things... well, actually that's the
most exciting. Oh, and I should probably tell you about a
really, really weird experience I had whilst having my hair
cut, not that it fits in with the theme of a birding diary,
then again not very much on this piece of shit ever seems to
fit in with the theme of a birding diary, so bollocks to it.
Anyhow, until we meet again, never forget these words:
Oh well, wherever, wherever you are,
Iron Maiden's gonna get you, no matter how far.
See the blood flow watching it shed up above my head.
Iron Maiden wants you for dead.
When I got up this morning I was tense. No, I was very
tense. Maybe even very tense, but let's not go too
far. However, I'd say I was flipping tense for a damn good
reason, after all today was day 5 of Carl's Changeable
Girlfriend in
Deidre's Video Casebook uploaded daily onto the website
of Britain's best newspaper The Sun. I'm sure you've all
been following the events of Carl and his relationship
dilemma, haven't you? Well basically (for those of you
living on the Moon that haven't been following Deidre's
Video Casebook) Carl is going out with a proper tasty
looking bird called Maria, but Maria has recently become
rather frigid, preferring to clean the kitchen than engage
in "romping", so Carl decides to phone up some saucy blonde
bit of skirt who he met in a club the other week called Joe.
Joe is well up for some "romping" so Carl does the dirty on
his bird Maria and has a "romp" with Joe. Joe is well good
at "romping" and Carl decides he's going to leave Maria for
this new bird Joe.
So that was the basic set up for the week. Now what would
happen in today's final part? Shit, I was so excited I can't
even begin to tell you, in fact so excited that I was
very tense (as you may remember reading at the top
of today's entry).
I logged on and went straight to Deidre's Video Casebook,
shaking with nervous energy - what the flip was Carl going
to do? He was in a right pickle! Well get this, Carl had
just finished "romping" with Joe when she said that he now
had to tell his bird Maria about having this affair, that
enough was enough, and besides, what on earth was he still
doing with that frigid bitch when he was having such good
"romps" with her anyway? Good question! Well, it seems as
though Maria has stopped being frigid and is back to being
well up for some "romping" again - would you believe it!?!
You'll have to watch the whole video to see Deidre's final
piece of advice on what Carl should do, but let me just say
that I never saw that coming!
Thank god that was all over, and now I could relax and get
my life back to normal, well that's until Monday and another
new casebook starts again! Anyhow, with life back to some
vestige of normality it was time for a trip out to watch
birds, a trip that failed in truly spectacular fashion as
there were no birds. Actually, there were some birds,
they just weren't very good birds: 12 Lapwings, 1 female
Tufted Duck, a load of recently fledged Greenfinch and a
striking white leucistic Black-headed Gull. Is this fucking
rain ever going to stop?
The clock is ticking, tick tock (that's the sound of
a clock), tick tock (and again), the ticking clock
counting down my final remaining days in Manchester before
we move a billion miles away to ******* (I can't say yet,
it's more than my life is worth), and my final visits to the
greatest place to watch birds in the whole world. It's kind
of sad, only sad in a way that bears absolutely no
resemblance to the definition of the word sad.
There were no less than 2 (two) Reed Warblers singing in the
reed bed (truly the most unimaginative of places for a Reed
Warbler to sing) which is quite impressive if you consider
how small the reed bed actually is. A family of Chiffchaffs
with very recently fledged young were good for a laugh,
going absolutely mental for some pishing and showing down to
literally just past the end of my nose. The young
Chiffchaffs were trying to call but only quite managing a
pathetic high pitched "honk". A young Wren nearby was also
having a go at singing but making a total fucking shambles
of it, putting the trrrrrrrrrrrrr in the wrong place
and then getting completely lost with what it was doing and
sort of going round in circles. Amusing. But the star bird
was definitely a Red-eared Terrapin sat on the algae booms,
even though it's not a bird, though it sort of is, not at
all, you know.
11th July, Holy Fuck...
This just 5 miles from Miss Cole's place of birth:
Northern Europe strikes again with a Yellow-nosed Albatross
this time in Sweden. Initially seen off Landskrona this
afternoon, it then flew south and ended up in Malmö harbour
before heading inland. Inland? Yep, inland. So hopefully the
Swedish rescue centre that picks it up will pay heed to my
advice outlined below (see 4th July). Some photos can be
found
here and
here. (links shamelessly robbed from Tommy Frandsen on
Birdforum).
So is this another bird? The same as the bird in Somerset
last week? The same as the Norwegian bird? Are there two?
Three? Well you can keep up with all the craziness here:
At the request of
Mr Schmoker (whose rather neat blog filled
with fantastic photos really should be added to your list of
favourite websites, if it isn't already)...
1) I was once set on fire on a bus in Manchester.
2) Whilst a student I was once paid by the BBC to
teach an actress how to play guitar in the nude (it's a very
special skill) for a short BBC2 film.
3) I have an allergy to mushrooms.
4) I didn't know the difference between the words lend
and borrow until I was 18.
5) I know how to say "I am going to town to buy a jigsaw
puzzle" in Swedish, but I can't write it.
6) I have slept in a bed that Mick Jagger once slept in, but
hopefully with clean sheets.
7) I was given a detention at school for getting caught
sniffing glue during a trip to a local radio station.
8) Nearly all of the maternal side of my family are German.
An amazing bird turns up knackered
in Somerset, the local rescue centre take it in and make it
all better and stuff, they release it quietly the next day
and then they post the news onto a website and upload a
couple of video clips onto YouTube. Hooray, let's celebrate
a stupid albatross totally lost in the northern hemisphere
and then watch the video and laugh at how stupid it looks
waddling about in the wind - what an amazing bird!
But no, apparently what the people
at the Secret World rescue centre did was morally
reprehensible. What they should have done is first of
all contacted someone from the rare birdspotting community
(because obviously everyone in the whole world has a
twitching contact), this person would have then liaised with
the rare birdspotting information services and organised a
controlled release in front of 2,347 twitchers (exactly that
many) for the first thing the next day. Meanwhile, overnight the
rescue centre should have contacted the BBC and the RSPB to
get them on the scene at the release which would have helped
to raise awareness for the desperate plight of albatrosses.
Then of course the local and national newspapers needed to
be contacted as well. Releasing the bird back at Brean Down
was also very stupid because they should have released the
bird from private land in order to control the number of
twitchers arriving and charge each person approximately £5
per person, this would have raised a tidy sum that could
have then either gone to the rescue centre themselves or
even been donated to the
Save the Albatross fund.
Well all of the above is just
obvious! I mean the priority of all animal rescue centres is
to do all of that, yeah? Of course their priority isn't to
concentrate on getting the bird into a fit state as fast as
possible and then release it back into the ocean (well the
Bristol Channel) without the added stress of being
photographed to near death by 2,347 twitchers. Or have I
missed something here?
A MORI poll recently came back with the top
five things you don't want to admit having done as a British
birder, but that most of us are guilty of having done at
some time or other:
1) Describing some brown/grey vagrant piece
of wind-blown dross that you saw distantly for a split
second as "stonking"
2) Doing a Google/Yahoo search for
Springwatch presenters secret gangbang watersports fisting
leaked video tape
3) Poisoning Hen Harriers and Goshawks in
Lancashire
4) Not poisoning Eagle Owls in Lancashire
5) Having been birding for 18 years and not
managing to see a Ring-necked Parakeet in Britain
I'd say I'm guilty of about four of those,
especially number 5, in fact I have absolutely no defence
whatsoever when it comes to number 5... oh dear... the
shame. That's right, I saw my first British Ring-necked
Parakeet on the 3rd July 2007, some 18 years and 4 months
after I began birding in this wind-swept, rain-soaked,
ecological desert of ours. But am I ashamed of it? Yes. Yes
I am.
To be fair, it has always been my
decision to not see Ring-necked Parakeets and nobody
else's, for a start there are a pair nesting less than two
miles away from me in Rusholme, but I always decided not to
go and see them. And why? Well because they're Parakeets and
they're flying around in Britain. Just stop and think about
that for a second: Parakeets in Britain.
Parakeets.
In.
Britain.
Hello? Is anyone there? Does nobody
else think that's
just ridiculously lame? Parakeets in India = great, fine, go
for it. But Parakeets in Britain? A sub-tropical bird flying
about and breeding in Britain? Hello? Hello? I mean if
that's what birding's about nowadays then I need a new
hobby/past-time/leisure pursuit. Because at this rate we may
as well all be going out and ticking all sorts of introduced
lameness, like Lady Amherst's Pheasants, or Ruddy Ducks,
or... Little Owls... oh shit. Little Owls? No way, they
don't count, they're like proper British birds, honorary
introductions, they're nowhere near the same as Parakeets
and Pheasants.
Actually, I really enjoyed going to see the
Ring-necked Parakeets on
Hampstead Heath with my mate Adam
(platonic mate Adam, don't jump to any stereotypical
conclusions about two
gentlemen wandering around Hampstead Heath), even though one
woman we met thought we were completely mental for bothering
to look at "those bloody awful boring noisy things." Next
stop Cambridgeshire for Muscovy Duck...
Other birding highlights in London
as we dashed through the torrential rain from one pub
to another, were a Cormorant with one wing shorter than the
other endlessly flying around in circles over the Millennium
Bridge, a few Lesser Black-backed Gulls and a
super-amplified recording of a corvid coming from near Tate
Modern, presumably to keep the pigeons away? Or was it
actually a mutant Jackdaw making all the noise?
1st July, Yellow-nosed Albatross
Absolutely fantastic!
Posted by www.burnham-on-sea.com
This very morning Somerset birders were alerted to a pretty crazy
headline on the front page of the Burnham-on-Sea local
website. Could it really be true? An Albatross on Brean
beach? Just by Weston-super-Mare? No way!
But it was, and it was a Yellow-nosed Albatross, the first
ever on Earth. The bird was picked up on Friday by the
wildlife chapter of the Salvation Army, given a good night's
sleep and a nice meal, and then released on Saturday
afternoon to go and hang about by the war memorial drinking
cider and shouting abuse at passing cars. And don't forget
that there was another (or maybe even the same?)
Yellow-nosed Albatross in Norwegian waters just last week
which you can be monstrously gripped off with
HERE.
Will it be refound? Is this going to be another Long-billed
Murrelet? If it is refound will I see it? Well no, because
I'm off to London until Wednesday - bollocks! See you
soon...
