The Big Picture on the Inner Thames

In cold weather, London birders seem to gravitate towards the river. It is usually even colder by the river, but there is a chance of good birds and that is why we do it. I had five layers on today at West Thurrock, which was just about sufficient. I don't know how cold it was, but my right little finger was the worst affected. I think I need to fatten it up.

As the snow was pretty extreme (by wussy London standards) I took the good ship Eco One, though in the event I reckon even a Honda Jazz could have made it - the problems may come later when a partial daytime thaw then gets frozen again overnight. Still, it was pretty fun to slip into low ratio and power down Coldharbour Lane at 20mph in fifth.

I picked up Nick from outside my house, which was extremely convenient, and then a short hop north for Bradders and we were on our way - destination the picturesque riverside at West Thurrock where we were taking part in a coordinated Inner Thames high tide wader count - basically checking all the known roosts to see "the big picture". I don't have the full results yet, but it seems that everyone got out despite the weather, so we will indeed know "the big picture". I have no idea if "the big picture" has any scientific merit, but it has been well over a year since I have been able to say "the big picture" quite so often in such a short space of time, and as I may be heading down that route again I thought I should start practising.

Highlights at West Thurrock were two female Scaup, and a flock of 59 Avocets that may or may not represent a record count for London. I'm reasonably interested to know if it is, but not so fascinated that I am going to wade (da-dah!) through a century of LBRs. They were all bunched up on the river and surprisingly difficult to count, and our multiple attempts ranged from 56 through to 62. We arrived at 59 three times when they were a little bit more strung out, so are calling it that. Bird recording is all about accuracy.

After getting properly cold we returned to the car, and this being West Thurrock, were pleased to see it still had all four wheels and a complete set of windows. A quick stop for heated comestibles was much needed, and we roared into Rainham at around 2ish hoping to connect with the three Smew that Kev had first seen from Crayford early morning, and that had then been seen from various locations on the north side. There was no sign, in fact the river was pretty dead, gulls notwithstanding. After about thirty minutes we were just about to pack it in when Nick exclaimed "There they are!", and sure enough, there they were. Three redhead Smew, drifting down on the falling tide. I managed one predictably awesome phone-scoped shot, and then they flew east down the river, appearing to drop down near the RSPB Visitor Centre, though it was rather murky and we could not relocate them. A superb Rainham ever tick, and my 163rd for the year, they were on view for all of about a minute. Jam jam jam.



I'm back home now after six and a half hours outdoors on the coldest day of the year. I've had two cups of tea and some noodle soup stuff (cheap oriental cuppasoup equivalent, six for a quid), and am feeling much better. The temperature is predicted to drop to minus eight tonight, and remain below freezing all of tomorrow. I think the children and I will stay home, play games, and watch DVDs.  Unless someone turns up a monster seabird, in which case I will drag them kicking and screaming to see it.

Sea-watch South-East

Whilst the good folk at Sea-watch South-west might fall over laughing at our "haul" yesterday, in a local context the river was phenomenal. And I missed half the birds and still thought it was amazing!

Thoughtful parent that I am, I considered that a visit to Rainham where I sat on the balcony and looked at the river for several hours would perhaps not appeal to the children. This ridiculous behaviour cost me 4 Sandwich Terns, 3 Little Terns, 4 Black Terns, a Great Skua and a Common Scoter. As soon as the 3 Little Terns came up mid-morning, that was it. I bundled the children into the car and off we went, hoping that I hadn't missed the action. The filthy weather was clearing; I figured I had probably buggered it up.

I needn't have worried. The tide was still rising and the passage of sea-birds still strong. I guess the theory is that provided the wind is right and the weather murky, the birds will be forced into the estuary at that point, and even it clears up later, once they're in, they're in, and struggle to reorient themselves eastwards. I cannot remember seeing so many Common Terns at Rainham before, probably my personal tally was around 200, and Dom, who had been there since the start, had more like 300.

Likewise I had seen a grand total of 2 Sandwich Terns in London ever, and saw a further 9 or so go past, and missed about 6 more. Bird of the day from my perspective was a superb juvenile Kittiwake that went by at around midday. An immense London bird by all accounts, and certainly a tick for me, and not one I had expected to get any time soon.

And the children I hear you ask? Well they were OK. Who I am kidding? They were brilliant, stunning children. We were there for five hours and only in the final hour did the cries of "when can we go home?" start to appear. I was helped by the fact that there is a small playground directly in front of the balcony, and and the ready availability of sausage rolls in the cafe. Nonetheless they were fantastically well behaved, hardly any disputes, and just played for five hours straight. The previous four days had been more or less constant rain, so perhaps they were just pleased to finally be outside and running around? They are now having a beach weekend on the Isle of Wight, which should heal the scars.

Meanwhile I have been birding. All day. A funny old day spent dashing between Rainham and various other Thames estuary sites, but ended up with two year ticks, two Essex ticks, and a bvd on my list converted to a seen properly. This latter bird was a very nice female Kentish Plover at East Tilbury. The only other I had ever seen was a distant dot off Canvey that perhaps I should not have counted, though it was the correct dot. I feel much better now.

There was also a juvenile Red-necked Phalarope conveniently at Vange, and I finished the day at Wakering Stairs where for the past week there has, and continues to be, an Osprey sat on a post. Despite lugging round a large and heavy camera for the entire day, I didn't use it once. Instead I am treating you to phone-scoping. Rarely will you see a better photograph of an Osprey I'll wager.