Back to Earth

A lot has happened since my last post, much of it worthy of a page or two, but Hanna and I finally had a full day out together, which was a real tonic and inspired me to write again.

Norfolk 18/9/18

Holme-Next-the-Sea.

We have never been to the Norfolk coast and had a bad day. True, we have almost been snowed in during March, and we have had gales and heavy rain before, but it was always an adventure.

Beachcombing.

The very first time we visited was when we came down from Scotland to speak to the members of the Wildfowl Trust at Peakirk in Lincolnshire, probably in about 1985. The talk was on a Friday night so we had the whole of Saturday to explore the area with the warden Tony Cook and his partner Ann. We visited the Borough Fen Duck Decoy where Tony was also the decoy-man. The decoy is a star shaped pond, hidden  in a wooded copse. Each arm of the star has hoops over it which are covered in netting which tapers to a funnel at the end for trapping ducks.

You might think that the best way to get the ducks in the funnel would be to scatter food in the pond and then frighten the ducks up the nearest tunnel, but that's not clever enough. All you need is a small, red, fox-like dog to show itself repeatedly from behind specially constructed hurdles. Tony used his dog "Piper"to demonstrate.  The ducks swam after it, mobbing it in the way starlings do to a sparrow-hawk. At the last minute Don leaped out waving his arms behind the ducks and panicked them into the trap. In the old days when the decoy was built, the ducks were trapped for the market but in Don's time it was all done for science. The birds were measured and ringed, then released to be trapped again who knows where? The shelves in the old ringing hut were filled with reports and diaries with rusting staples. Just think of the history contained in those. All those famous ornithologists from the second half of the 20th Century were there, starting with Peter Scott.

Teal

On that visit, Tony took us to the royal park at Sandringham first because the chaffinches, tits and nuthatches had become used to feeding around the cars. Visitors brought bird food specially. We found bramblings (pretty Scandinavian finches related to chaffinches) there I think. Then we drove on to the coast.

I'm not sure where we were but I remember a light powdering of snow and ice at the sea edge holding the stones, shells and weed together. It was probably Cley because I remember stopping off in the village near the windmill to visit the top British tearoom that specially catered for birders. It has gone now but, in the days before mobile phones, pagers and Birdline, Nancy's Café was a Mecca for anyone who wanted to network with other birders or just find out what was about.  There was a payphone on the wall that rang all the time as people called in to ask "What's about?" or to  log a sighting. Anyone who picked up the phone was expected to check the daily log and add any information that came in. The extreme cold weather had driven a lot of us off the beach and into the café so it was jammed with beardy men (it was almost all men in those days) in bulky sweaters who worked up a steamy fug that misted the windows.

I supposed that Tony had milked the crowd for information as well as checking the log because he soon has us on the move. We slipped and tripped our way eastwards along the shingle against the bitter wind, doubled up with eyes watering and scarves around our mouths. As we worked the strand line, a flock of snow buntings fluttered just ahead of us. I have never had better views of them before or since. Every bird in the flock seemed to have a different pattern of black, white and rust colours.

Curlew sandpiper (probably!)

Thankfully, a tiny wedge shaped hut loomed ahead of us and we ducked inside to warm up. It was even more packed that Nancy's with people jammed against the window slits while others waited their turn by huddling on the floor behind.  The shed was used for sea-watching, which is elf explanatory really. You sat in the shed and watched the sea until your eyeballs froze or the people behind you made impatient noises at you. I'm guessing we set a world record for the largest number of chunky men ever to fit in a garden shed without being stacked on top of each other.

The shed is long gone now, but the Norfolk Wildlife Trust has a smart visitor centre above the marsh where there are hides and good paths for visitors. The beach, though, is still as wild as ever.

Redshank.

This week's visit was totally different. We checked the internet to see the weather forecast and to find out what birds were about. These days you there are reports form the the RSPB, the Norfolk Wildlife Trust, National Trust and the Norfolk Ornithologists Association (NOA), and from their various reserves along the coast. We like to use Penny's Hot Birding and Life daily blog as a one-stop-shop. As it turned out the omens were not good; rubbish weather and not many birds. However, despite low clouds and high winds, we decided to keep our allotted slot for taking off for the day. "Carpe Diem" they say; so we did.

Our route to the coast took us across the Fens via March where blue patches where starting to show  in the big fenland sky. The road crosses the Great Ouse near the big sugar-beet facility at King's Lynn. The water under the bridge was churned up by the wind into a cappuccino brown boiling mess with standing waves caused by wind-against-tide pressure.  The wind was stronger than we expected and we wondered what lay ahead. We decided to have lunch and then play it by ear from there.

A birdwatching hide at Titchwell.

It would be a waste of a journey to drive all that way just to sit inside a dingy pub eating fish and chips, so we took the long gravel track to Holme Bird observatory where the Wildlife Trust has toilets and a friendly cafe where you can sit outside and birdwatch. There is a little pool off to the side of the track that never seems to dry up and always holds a few birds. We pulled up and immediately spotted a very white gull on the bank that got me all excited until I put the scope on it. It was very white because it was upside down and definitely dead; a black headed gull without a head! ("Told you so!" said Hanna.) Next to it was a dozing redshank that looked too pale for this time of year but it refused to wake up and give us a good view. Luckily two more active birds appeared and they were definitely spotted redshanks, which are black in summer and practically white in winter. These are very fine billed, long legged waders; totally elegant and not very common. That was a good start.

Curlew in saltmarsh.

It's a bit of a funny set up at Holme with the NOA observatory sitting back-to-back with the Wildlife Trust's centre. If you are not a member, you have to pay admission to both separately if you want to be sure you don't miss something. It is worth it though. On a good day when migration really kicks off the ringing station can be alive with small birds and the shore can be filled with waders too, with seabirds swarming about behind. Mostly it's not quite that good though. 

There was a red-necked grebe on the sea but the strong wind made it difficult to stand still. We saw small groups of terns winging past, some scoters, a gannet and a few waders. There were no small birds about at all. We enjoyed our walk and an hour's beach-combing before heading off to Titchwell.

Hanna at Thornham

Most of the North Norfolk coast is composed of nature reserves but Cley and Titchwell are proper world-class bird reserves, each worth a whole day for a visit. At Titchwell we logged in and decided to take the main drag that overlooks the lagoons on the way to the beach. Because of the high wind and low water level we didn't connect with many birds until the first wooden hide with it's grass roof. Teal poddled about in the mud close by with a hotch-potch of ruff's behind them. Ruffs are waders a bit like redshank, but with orange legs and small heads. The males are much bigger than the females which as called reeves and their moulting patterns are quite individual to each bird. A young ringed plover joined them as well as a few small "peeps", which is what you call waders that you can't identify or can't be bothered to try on account of their annoying habit of all looking the same. Mostly they are dunlin, but not always. One of them was a juvenile curlew sandpiper that was tricky to pick out. Hanna found a few avocets further away but, compared to summer or late autumn, it was very quiet on the lagoons. All the same, there was plenty to see and the two RSPB volunteers in the hide were very helpful. We saw our first pink-feet of the winter; just two of them, but the pathfinders for many more to come down from Iceland next month. We usually find that geese that haven't bred are the first to migrate.

Birdwatching is tiring on the legs and even more so on the eyes. We took a break back at the cafe only to find we had lost Hanna's purse. After a worrying few minutes we found out that it had been found in the hide and was with the warden on his rounds. We compensated ourselves for the stress with a large slab of cake. Without the wallet, we didn't have enough cash for two. 

Thornham Creek.

We have a favourite stop-off at Thornham Creek where you can birdwatch from the car if need-be or you can take the footpath to Holme along the sea-wall and the top of the dunes. In search of wading birds, we explored the creeks and pools that run through the salt marsh and found a few curlews, redshanks and a single godwit but our attention was caught by the plants, the changing light and the curious holes in the mud that we hadn't seen before; too big for beak marks. We think they must be made by Chinese mitten crabs, though we didn't actually see any. Next time I will take a spade and we will try and dig one up. These things can increase the rate of coastal erosion massively. We found the yellow dandelion-like flowers in the marsh a bit of a puzzle too, until we spotted a few of them with purple petals hanging on around the yellow stamens. These were sea asters going to seed. 

The golden glow of the falling light made for the best photo opportunities of the day and we hung around the old brick-and-flint coal bunker building and the boats in the creek until the sun set. 

At the Gin Trap Inn.

After a long day weathering sun and wind, the drive home can take the edge off the day, so we stopped off at Ringstead for a pint and a meal while we reviewed our day from start to finish. The low black-beamed bar inside the Gin Trap Inn seemed pitch-dark at first and we had to wait for our eyes to adjust before being able to order drinks or read a menu, but we had a tasty meal and set off again for home feeling tired but contented. 

Days like this remind both of us that we are still fundamentally the same people as we always were, just a bit older with a bit less stamina. Theres nothing we love more than a day out.