Shetland Day 6: 4th October 2018

It was a foul morning and there was a certain recalcitrance about setting forth into yet another day of howling westerly wind and rain and thus a fry up was called for followed by yet more tea and chimping of cameras and mobile devices.

We eventually decided that the rain was now lighter and so reluctantly ventured outside with a trip to Bressay to look for the showy Citrine Wagtail and to have an explore on this island that I do not think anyone other than Bradders had visited before.

We made it to the ferry quay in Lerwick and had just managed about three snaps of some lovely Tysties when news broke of a Lanceolated Warbler in – please don’t be Quendale, please don’t Quendale... DOH!

Tystie

And this last Tystie by Peter Moore

With Pete needing this most difficult of quarry we headed speedily that way and decamped into the driving rain and wind. Now, the Quendale irises may not be quite as intimidating as those at, say, Isbister, but they are no fun to work and often the views of what may be lurking in them are poor to say the least.

The idea of uncovering a mouse sized brown, ground loving warbler that behaves like an.. erm... mouse was somewhat daunting but we gave it our best shot. No one from the original sighting was still present and the news vague. A systematic sweep was organised but nothing was doing until a shout went up about 50 yards in front. 

What followed was a farcical chase the small wet bird situation with at least a two bird theory by the end of play.  What I can be sure of is that the bird everyone got excited by and fluttered right past me was a nice plain olive brown Wetchaff or Chiffolated Warbler if you prefer. 

The weather was foul and I was fed up and so squelched my way back towards the car and the shelter of the nice warm Mill shop.   The rain let up momentarily and I wandered further down the road and saw the first Swallows of the trip with a few hawking close to the last farm building while up above another 33 spiralled their way south. 

Bay of Quendale

Thankfully the others were in concurrence with my view of things and we soon gathered ourselves up and headed back towards Lerwick but with a slight diversion through North Voxter where a Little Egret was added to the Shetland list.

Little Egret

This is still a very scarce bird up here – we were almost as excited about finding another Moorhen...

The Tysties were not really playing ball this time and the seven minute crossing to Bressay was uneventful. The Citrine Wagtail was to befound around the ground of the big manse, Gardie House, with a walled garden not far from the quay and we initially mistakenly parked in the grounds, thinking it was part of the approach road.

Amazingly as we got out of the car the wagtail dropped in behind us and started feeding in the verge. It was at this point that the homeowner appeared and politely told us of our error and the four cars all backed out and parked up the road.

Citrine Wagtail

In the meantime I had re-found the bird alongside the wall and over the next twenty minutes we all enjoyed point blank views as it preened at just a few yards range.

It was a very instructive bird after the Eastern Yellow of yesterday. Plumage aside, it felt smaller and more compact with a finer bill.  The call was noticeably different and was short and buzzy with perhaps and upwards inflection at the end where as the EYW was harder and longer with more Ds in front if that makes sense.

Citrine Wagtail- Peter Moore

 

Showing well

Once it had finished its ablutions and had been thoroughly papped it moved off into the gardens so we set off exploring the island on a whistle stop tour of quite literally every road.

We were looking for a flock of Golden Plover and associated AmGoPlo but the small group I had seen while wag watching could not be seen and the scant highlights of our search were a single Bar-tailed Godwit with some Curlew and a lone Wheatear.

Skylark

However the views were superb and it was the first time I had seen Noss close up. Time and the weather saw us curtail our visit and the seven minute journey back was enlivened by yet more epic rainbow action.

Noss

 

The lighthouse at Kirabister Ness

On arriving home we were already prepared for the delivery of some mussels from the property owner’s farm and thus ensued a ballet of culinary proportions with Pete and Bob preparing and steamed the moules mariniere while I cooked the pomme frits, saucisses et haricots cuits au four for Dave and I.

Throw in some Aunt Bessie’s Yorkshire Puds and a bottle of Banrock Cabernet Sauvignon Blanc and Bob’s my Uncle - although actually he isn’t...