Pretty Pied for a White Guy

For once the Birding Gods smiled, and a bird was found on a Saturday that remained present on a Sunday. Jupiter aligned with Mars, the weather was fine, I had a car, and Mrs L didn't have a concert on. Rumours that Hell has frozen over are being investigated. Anyway, it all turned out nicely, and after a nice little doze in bed the tweet I was secretly hoping for materialised - "Pied Wheatear still present Notts..." A Wheatear, fantastic, and only two hours away too. I made plans with the Monkey and Shaun, and met up with them near the MaccyDs on the Harlow exit. I haven't seen these guys for ages and ages, so the journey passed really quickly what with all the nattering, piss-taking, birding tales, moaning, laughing and general nonsense.

Shaun tried to string it as soon as we got there, and then I made the mistake of listening to some old dear attempting to give directions to what may or may not have been the bird. I favour the latter, as it's possible she was having trouble distinguishing between Gulls and [white...] Swans. Eventually one chap near me did get on it distantly, and gave some decent directions - Get in! Would have been disappointing had that been the only view, but the bird did the right thing and came a lot closer, at one stage parading along a relatively close shingle ridge. A lovely little bird, not as dark as I expected, I can see why Black-eared got a mention at one stage during the ID process yesterday.

Decent light, so I thought I'd whack on not one but both teleconverters, separated by the small extension tube - approx 1800mm in old money, and at f11 so not ideal but the light was good. Manual focussing, and manual exposure too as the camera only recognises one, but I'm relatively impressed given all the glass involved. It seems that the resulting images lack the usual punch and definition, but it's a potentially useable set-up for sure. Nowhere near as good as the Izzy Wheatear in Wales, but that bird was just a dream!

The drive home was punctuated by a Glossy Ibis and some Monkey-style driving which saw us briefly head towards Nottingham, but we were soon safely back in the big smoke. But what's this small yellow sticker on my windscreen? Oh you bastards. Yep, North Weald Council has decided that a convenient layby near the M11 is in fact a nice little earner, and so although I saved 30 quid in petrol by jumping in with the lads, I'm contributing 25 of that to the local firework display. Took the shine off an otherwise top day out, but I can't grumble. No idea when they changed it, but fair enough, it is signed. There's dick all reason for it to be a "30 minutes max" parking area though. Well, there is one reason.....

St Lucia Birding Trip

Soufriere

We were staying on the west side of the island between the two peaks, just south of the town of Soufriere. Before leaving London I had booked up a birding tour for both Mrs L and myself, not because we couldn't identify the birds, but because the guides always have a vehicle and are always really good at what they do, especially birding by ear, which being unfamiliar with anything other than Bananaquit I was unable to do. We used St. Lucia Birding, and our guide was a dude called Nerious who picked us up from Sugar Beach at 6am - he was surprised to be starting this late, but I guess when I told the organisers where I was staying they rightly guessed I would be in a rather relaxed frame of mind.

Nerious took us in his jeep past Soufriere and up into the central hills, where we spent the morning looking round various sites close to the village of Font St Jacques. First stop was the Edmond Forest Reserve, which lies on one of the old French colonial roads that traversed the island. It's incredibly bumpy, and should only be attempted in a 4WD, and indeed after a few miles the road has been completely washed away by a landslide and you have to continue on foot to an old citrus plantation. As expected it was great birding, though far from easy. Abandoned, the fruit trees are still there, covered in Spanish moss but still attractive to all sorts. It was here that we saw most of the endemics, including the St. Lucia Oriole and the St. Lucia Pewee. The Oriole was tough, but we eventually got the views we needed. The Pewee was a little stunner, and gave great views. I had debated leaving my camera in the car, but at the last minute had slung it over my shoulder and clipped the monopod to my waist. Good move!

St. Lucia Pewee

Lesser Antillean Saltator

This area also had Brown Thrasher, the Rufous-throated Solitaire, and was the only place we saw Purple-throated Carib. Even late morning there was quite a lot of activity, and this was easily the best birding of the entire trip, and in interesting scenery with nutmeg and all sorts of exotic stuff growing wild. A few locals were around, most gathering flowers for the hotels (they don't chop down their own!) and one guy enjoying his eighth spliff of the morning - a big Rastafari area on the island.

After spending most of the morning here, we moved higher still up onto the plateau near Mount Gimie, the highest point on the island. Here people were growing all sorts of crops including corn and tomatoes amongst the more tropical fruits and vegetables, and we stopped and chatted to a couple of Rasta guys who were busy (in the St. Lucian sense) working, i.e. chilling out and occasionally doing a bit of pottering. We were here to look for Parrots, but the weather was against us with a strong breeze building up and some squalls coming through. No matter, I can always go back! Plenty of other birds of interest though, including Grey Kingbirds, several Blackpoll Warblers, and heaps of Grackles. A superb morning, and we were back at the hotel for a late lunch and some celebratory beverages.

Missing St. Lucia

It has only taken a week of real life to push my recent holiday into the seemingly dim and distant past. A week ago today I was still there, still warm. Now repatriated to Wanstead, I'm cold and miserable. It's raining outside. Cold, miserable, dreary and above all pathetic rain. Not real rain. Real rain is tropical, real rain is intense, it properly soaks you. And real rain is warm, and tends to blow over quickly. The crappy excuse we get for rain here just sits on top of us, gently pattering away, for hours and hours until it has killed the entire day. Which is what has happened today. After a late finish yesterday I went straight to bed and slept for as long as I could. This meant I missed the semi-decent okayish weather this morning. A quick twitch for a local Glossy Ibis, and then the skies went grey and the dreariness started. There has been no let up, so now I'm starting to get through some of my St. Lucia stuff.

I don't tend to go in for proper trip reports, but rather string a whole load of blog posts together and hope they stick. So a quick run-down, a few photos and a list of birds is all you're going to get. We booked a package with Virgin Atlantic to Sugar Beach, which is the new name for the Jalousie Plantation, and when you see the photos you will most assuredly be jalous. Situated between the iconic Pitons, it was absurdly luxurious, easily one of the nicest places I have ever stayed. I get plenty of jokes about butlers, but this time I actually had one. We managed to get upgraded without even asking to a nicer room, one with its own roof terrace and plunge pool, and hippo-like this allowed me to spend many happy hours sploshing and lolling with a fabulous view. And as we were up one storey, I could also see into the tops of nearby trees, which tended to be filled with Bananaquits and other nice things. In fact the tree next to our roof terrace was the only place that I saw Grey Trembler the whole week, as it took shelter during a bout of rain and started singing.

It got light every day around six, and dark by half five. As the light fell, so the zeets of Bananaquits were replaced by the chirping of insects and frogs. There were huge toads around the little pools (not the swimming pool), tree frogs and geckos everywhere, and some gigantic moths. This is one of the things I love about the tropics, the noise at night - it's superb. A highlight was watching a small frog climb up one of the windows from the inside. Every day we nothing to do, and quickly developed a routine. Breakfast, after which Mrs L would tinkle on her flute while I went off and took photos. The rest of the day was on the terrace chilling, or on the beach swimming, snorkelling, sleeping and reading, with occasional forays for Hummingbirds. A quick freshen up, rum and beers on the terrace before dinner on the beach. Fantastic, would that I could go every year, but I fear 2014 is so full already that I won't be seeing the Caribbean for a long time.

The resort is set on quite a lot of land, but doesn't have intensive accommodation - rather little pockets of dwellings, so you get a sense of isolation. Apart from when the guy comes to sweep the terrace, another bloke turns up with fresh ice, another to turn the bed down, another to......in other words lots of people being lovely and helpful, but also not leaving you alone, which when all I wanted to do was wallow.

There was a fabulous beach, a great pool, and a few bars and restaurants, all set in lovely gardens. No Hummingbird feeders, but plenty of flowers. There was a really cool but bird-free rainforest walk, and an amazing spa that we couldn't afford to use. All in all it was very conducive to relaxation, and bar a morning out with a bird guide, there was no compelling reason to leave the hotel grounds, and so didn't. I found a slightly less beautiful bit of the grounds that was quite birdy, and so spent a bit of time there, but compared to the Blue Waters Inn on Tobago it was a lot more manicured and thus there were fewer birds around. Given that this wasn't a birding trip, I saw no problem with that. By far the most common bird was the Carib Grackle, followed probably by Lesser Antillean Bullfinch, Bananaquit, Antillean Crested Hummingbird, and Zenaida Dove. Brown Booby, Spotted Sandpiper and Little Blue Heron were seen daily down at the beach, and the little pool near our room had a resident but shy Green Heron.

St. Lucia race of Lesser Antillean Bullfinch, sat on St. Lucia race of beer, Piton.

Here's the list - if a bird was only seen on the trip into the centre of the island, it's in italics, otherwise they were all in the hotel gounds. A meagre 38 species, but I assure you I wasn't even trying. I even missed the St. Lucia Parrot and did nothing about it, too happy in my little pool.

Brown Booby
Magnificent Frigatebird
Royal Tern
Little Blue Heron
Yellow-crowned Night-Heron
Green Heron
Cattle Egret
Spotted Sandpiper
American Kestrel
Broad-winged Hawk
Common Ground Dove
Zenaida Dove
Mangrove Cuckoo
Lesser Antillean Swift
Antillean Crested Hummingbird
Purple-throated Carib
Green-throated Carib
Lesser Antillean Flycatcher
Grey Kingbird
Caribbean Elaenia
St. Lucia Pewee
Grey Trembler
Brown Trembler
Tropical Mockingbird
Scaly-breasted Thrasher
Pearly-eyed Thrasher
Rufous-throated Solitaire
Black-whiskered Vireo
Blackpoll Warbler
St. Lucia Warbler
Antillean Euphonia
Bananaquit
St. Lucia Oriole
Carib Grackle
Lesser Antillean Saltator
Black-faced Grassquit
St. Lucia Black Finch
Lesser Antillean Bullfinch

My old life

I was reminded today of my previous life, the one where I was happy and carefree, and struggled with basic things like shopping for food, and keeping children fed and happy. And dusting. I didn't work for over two years, and as anyone will tell you, not needing to work is completely amazing. The freedom, the deep breath and exhalation of air in the knowledge that the world (within 20 miles) was your oyster and that you could do anything you wanted (after you'd picked up all the Lego from the floor and done four loads of washing). We had to tighten our belts a bit, but I stretched it out for a good long time, a time that was in retrospect perfect in terms of where the kids were at. Obviously all good things have to come to an end, and when my youngest started school, that was my cue, as I couldn't be allowed to slob around with just a couple of school runs to do. I had a job within a month - in hindsight I should have attempted to fail the interview in order to eke out a bit more time. That was now over two years ago, how time flies, and I am well and truly back in the thick of it, and believe me when I say that it's like I never left.

Occasionally though, just occasionally, I hark back to that magical time and remember not only how utterly incompetent I was, but how pleasant it was. Plenty of people in this country are stay at home parents, and whilst it isn't all plain sailing, it is extremely worthwhile and rewarding. The flip side is a certain degree of poverty, for instance not shopping at Waitrose, and holidays lacking in Caribbean flavour, but I survived these minor inconveniences before getting back into the job market. Some time after I went back to work, Tony B also got the heave-ho and a cardboard box with his things in it. Having been through it myself, I knew that it wouldn't be easy - a dent in confidence, a blow to the ego, and then the worries that come with being unemployed - but I also knew that like me, he would cope admirably. He too had small children, and they would see him through it. And he enjoyed himself thoroughly, including poaching many birds on the Flats while I was at work. You will note the use of the past tense. Yup, sadly for Tony it's all over, and he's back to work as well. I'm disappointed that he hasn't been able to spin it out for as long as I did, but I guess he probably isn't quite as feckless and lazy as I am. I hope he finds it easy to transition back into it, back into the relentless world of working to other peoples' deadlines. But that's life, that's work for you. We all know there's no such thing as a free lunch.

I'd get up relatively early, and potter in the kitchen. I'd help the kids out with breakfast, and then turn into a Sergeant-Major in order to ensure we got to school on time. And then, well at least until three or so, the day was MINE! I had Pudding, and mostly we did very little, but on occasion we did some outrageous trips - she has a great little list of rare birds - seeing Great Spotted Cuckoo on her second birthday will presumably always remain a highlight for her. We spent a lot of time in the garden, and a fair amount of time on Wanstead Flats, where the reward of a playground was never too far away. In between times I learned a great deal about cleaning products, washing, shopping, even a little cooking. Nobody died. Let no man say it isn't hard work, certainly not until they've tried it. I even had to take on potty training, something I never thought would come my way. And come my way it frequently did.....

I'm back at work now, and this idyllic period seems a very long time ago. It was bloody brilliant and I cannot recommend it highly enough, especially if you have young kids. But actually, even if you don't have kids it would still be amazing. Free time. Nothing to do. Just imagine that. Wonderful.

Blasphemy

I am considering not doing a patch year list next year.

Bad, huh? I mean, could this in fact be blasphemy? Is Lee going to issue a fatwa, especially as I'm not even second division in that other facet of birding, twitching? It's not that I am bored of the patch, not at all. I love it, but I simply cannot do it justice, and it really annoys me that I can't get out there anywhere near as much as it needs. Time is at a premium, work is ridiculous, I travel a little bit, and the bottom line is that I don't have time. Can a patch be done just at weekends? I don't think it can. Although this year has been a record-breaking year for me, actually mostly other people have found the birds and I have simply popped out to see them. Counting them up, of the 17 what I would consider less-than-annual birds on my list for 2013, I've found just six of them and twitched the rest. Maybe this isn't so bad in the grand scheme of things, a relatively lively ratio in fact considering how little I went out there in comparison to some of the others. Nonetheless it still irritates me, and my response is to maybe give up. Now that I put it like that, sounds pretty crap. Oh dear.

Maybe it's all Nick's fault? He is fortunate enough to be able to do the patch all morning every day. This means that I have lost count of the number of times that I've had to leave to go to work, and he has turned up something good either as I've been on a train, or at my desk. As you can imagine, this is very painful. Once, fine. Twice, OK, I'll cope. All the bloody time? Gah! Especially when the bird in question was probably there the whole time, but as is the habit with small birds, inactive/still asleep when I went through early on my way to Canary Wharf.

But that's not the sum of it. Far from it. The patch is way too busy, even early in the morning. The seemingly exponential increase in usage from all quarters is driving me insane. Stunningly arrogant and loud dog-walkers, all out at the crack of dawn. The litter left everywhere, from innumerable all-night drinking clubs, from the mass scattering of water and sports drink bottles after football, the devotions of rice and so on left on the edges of ponds, to the absurd quantities of rotting bread left out for birds. The joggers who run in front of my lens, the man who listens to air traffic control from the Wheatear log of all places, the radio-controlled planes that ruin weekend afternoons. And of course the gay cruisers that hang around Long Wood, and what they leave behind. The fact anybody finds any birds at all is astonishing, and the overall effect is spoiling it for me. The dog walkers are the worst of course, but quite a few of the others aren't all that far behind. Mind you, I'm rather tense at the moment, and it takes ever smaller indiscretions to annoy the crap out of me.

So what to do? Not bother? Seems weak, but it may be the answer. If I can't go round it very often, and when I do I can't move for other people and half the birds are asleep, then it lessens the pleasure I get from it. And that is if course the whole point. But is being miserable about not doing the patch worse than a lesser amount of happiness, and fair amount of annoyance, from doing it a small amount with a lot of disturbance? One to ponder. I would definitely miss it, but equally maybe a rest from it would refresh it for me? Then again, what would I do instead if birding was restricted to the weekend only, as seems likely. Would I be desperate to get out there, or would I be keener to go further afield?

Back on home turf

Very sadly I'm back home. Well, a bit sadly. If I travelled all the time it would get boring, so it is good to be back. Chateau L is intact, the storms failed to make a dent, and the various guard crocs, deadly crossbow traps etc were similarly untouched. I Always feel mildly nervous about blogging from abroad, but what's the worst that can happen? I've got most of my camera stuff with me, and if somebody has a go and doesn't succumb to the wild beasts, then I guess I get a pile of shiny new stuff via the insurance. Hassle factor I suppose, but that's about it. Anyway, I'm rarely away so it's a moot point.

Unpacking is largely complete, and the final images are downloading on to the computer. My laptop has colours that I largely don't trust, so I'm going to go and have a look in a sec to see if what I uploaded from abroad looks any good on a real screen. I did check on my phone, which stupidly enough has a better screen with better colour rendition that the laptop, and they looked OK there, in so much as you can check anything with any certainty on a 4 inch screen.

Whilst I am genuinely pleased to be back (it is after all still Sunday), the first thing to note is that I am cold. I left St Lucia very warm, and now am cold, and Chateau L seems like a tomb. The second thing to note is the singular lack of Hummingbirds of any description. I've been scanning the garden over cups of tea, and there has been no activity whatsoever, which as you can imagine is highly disappointing. And thirdly, it appears to have been a quiet week bird-wise.......oh dear.

Actually, whatever. The risk of going away and missing rare birds is not something that concerns me greatly. I am not a big filthy twitcher, or at least, not so filthy as to be in Shetland one day, Cornwall the next, and the Hebrides the day after. Which is basically what would have been required, and I reconcile myself to not having seen all these biggies by realising that even if I had been here, I would not have gone for any of them. For starters I would have been at work, and work and twitching like a nutter are largely incompatible. And not forgetting, of course, that my view every day for a week was this....

Another tough day

The most demanding bit of today was probably having to go back to the room to source some music and earphones to drown out the sound of some immensely loud American tourists who had been ferried in to my beach - the cheek of it. As you know, I don't watch a lot of TV, but these were the people on whom Family Guy was modelled. I hate to say it, but New York and Boston featured heavily. But not for long, as they were replaced by Townes Van Zandt, who I believe was from Texas, and though you might think that would be even worse, in fact he is a highly intelligent man with many sensible things to say. And not incredibly loudly and mildly drunkenly whilst slobbing around in my water. I digress, and happily they were shipped out pretty quickly, though the beach remained pretty busy for most of the day with various parties coming in to take advantage of the fabulous snorkelling.

I spent most of the day flopped on a very comfortable lounger doing my best impression of a slowly reddening whale, listening to my usual mix of eclectic music, and reading The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out of his Window and Disappeared. Amazingly I drank only one beer all day, and in this manner Friday passed very satisfactorily. When I got too hot I had a quick dip in the Caribbean Sea, and then returned to my book. When I got hungry I ordered some Tuna. And when I finished my book I went off to chase Hummingbirds again, once more with limited success. I've got one more chance tomorrow, and then that's it for at least another year, unless I win the lottery.

 

As I suspected before I left the UK, my trip list is desultory. I saw more birds on my first day on Shetland than I have here. The grand total is 38, unless something spectacular happens tomorrow. l'm actually quite pleased with the mediocrity of this total, as it shows very clearly that I have had a proper holiday holiday, rather than my usual hectic holiday that largely revolves around chasing after birds from dawn until dusk. Compare this trip, for instance, to my trip to Finland this summer, when I came back completely frazzled and not quite sure what time of the day or night it was. Or even who I was. Here on St Lucia I'm tucked up in an extremely comfortable and enormous bed by about 9pm every night, and sleep until at least 6am with not a care in the world. The biggest decision each morning is what to have for breakfast, followed by which ISO setting to use.

 

The Hummingbirds were very frustrating today - another sign that life is tough. I have a particular shot in mind that just isn't happening for me. It involves an Antillean Crested Hummer at around 45 degrees, swooping down, with the head inclined slightly towards me and the crest lit up like a Christmas Tree. I've managed a few completely out of focus ones in the general pose, but I just can't get it bang on. Perhaps I am asking too much? I did at least manage some better flight shots, and better crest shots, but there is a long way to go and time is running out. Birds are going to be so crap when I get back to Wanstead....