A week of birding on Islay
Tuesday, January 09 2007Tony Wilmot recalls a big week on Islay. Published on the Islay Weblog with kind permission from the Ileach
The solitary sandwich tern had been working hard for some time when it suddenly dropped like a stone and emerged dripping yet triumphant with a small silver fish. Almost immediately a large herring gull was after it and, despite some impressive aerial gymnastics, the tern gave up, dropped the fish and went in search of another. We were watching from the quayside at Kennacraig, a party of twenty heading for a walking, birding and malt whisky appreciation October week on the Hebridean Isle of Islay. The happy group was an eclectic mix of variable vintage and birding abilities, ranging from the very capable to the extremely incapable. Islay is a wild, atmospheric place that defies the raw power of the north Atlantic. The wind blows here - big time. Next land point west is probably Cape Cod. It can be tough guy birding when it starts, but the wind blows in the birds. The sheer numbers on Islay from October are incredible. Geese by the thousand tumble in from the North, smoke trails of starlings harassed by merlin battle across the Rhinns os Islay and redwing stream in from the east. Islay is the land of the Lords of the Isles, of peaty expanse, brooding stormy skies and dancing northern lights. The birders amongst us were aiming for a hundred species during the week but a challenge was quickly laid down by one of the ladies on a Field Studies Council group who boldly predicted 105. Competition!
The two hour ferry journey was punctuated by many wonderful sights. Highlights included good views of grey and common seal, bottle nose dolphin and harbour porpoises as well as real lose ups of divers and black guillemots right next to the boat. Our base on Islay was two farm cottages on the hill above Port Charlotte, one of which had a pair of barn owls nesting in the roof, plus up to twelve choughs using the barn as a roost each evening. Farmer James Brown and his wife Sheila have rigged up webcams that they call “Owl TV” to help visitors keep tabs on the nocturnal happenings. The view from the farm was inspiring, with the atmospheric waters of Loch Indaal stretching away to the clean white buildings of Bowmore distillery on the far bank and the gorgeous Paps of Jura forming a fitting backdrop. The gabbling Greenland white fronts, yapping barnacle geese and the haunting cries of flocks of curlew provide the background music. The neighboring, friendly Bruichladdich distillery played host to us more than once during the week, and the shoreline right in front was a great place for waders, divers and seaduck including scoter. We walked the Oa, a massive bulk of heather clad headland with sheer sea cliffs on the south of the island and home to an RSPB reserve. In glorious autumn sunshine we left the minibus to be greeted by a quartering male hen harrier which attacked a redwing before disappearing over the horizon. The walk to the monument (a memorial for American soldiers shipwrecked during WWII) saw us add several species to our growing list, most notably an inquisitive raven, and three snipe that waited until the very last moment before startling some of the younger members of the party. Four hunting merlin buzzed the heather and a party of chough acrobatically performed around the monument. As we lunched on the steps a peregrine soared gracefully below us looking for unsuspecting rock doves on the cliffs while gannets dived for fish within a hundred metres. That evening in the cosy bar of the Port Charlotte Hotel we listened to the locals playing Gaelic music on fiddle and pipes whilst we contemplated the 43 birds on our list and sampled some of the 140 or so malt whiskies on offer.
On Monday we searched for and found purple sandpipers outside Bruichladdich. We added turnstone and ringed plover before diving into the distillery for a tour and a “Wee dram” offered by our lovely hostess Joanne. A stop at the end of the loch allowed us to watch the scaup flock which this year numbered some 200 birds. It was amongst these that Ben showed his expertise by pointing out five Slavonian grebes. A graceful herd of noisy whooper swans came in low looking in fine condition. Later on in the week we saw more whoopers battling in off the Atlantic with youngsters in tow. A walk in Bridgend woods produced the common woodland birds but no jays or woodpeckers, species that are rare on Islay. A nearby freshwater loch hosted a massive mixed goose flock, with tufties, scaup and goldeneye for good measure. In the evening we journeyed to Portnahaven to benefit from more Hebridean hospitality in the form of an Anglo-Ileach badminton tournament where the usual barley water between sets was replaced by a particularly fine peaty malt. A barn owl and a huge red deer stag on the way home provided another memorable encounter in the wee small hours. Tuesday found us at Loch Gruinart for more memorable ticks including Blackcap and Brambling after which we were all ready for a plate of Cullen Skink at the new Kilchoman distillery before returning to the farm and the best bird of the week.… My son Tom and I walked down to the Port Charlotte shore with four non birders in tow. We quickly spotted two pairs of eider near to the rocks below the lighthouse, but when viewed through binoculars a tiny white object seemed to be moving between the ducks. After clambering through a boggy piece of
swamp, leaving the others behind and disturbing the fifty strong curlew flock, we found ourselves on the rocks below the lighthouse with nothing to look at. But suddenly, out of nowhere, a tiny clockwork like seabird appeared no more than ten feet away. 
It was a little auk doing a figure of eight slowly in front of us and looking very tired. Two other little auks were seen on the island during the week by other birders and we were told that this is very rare - even for Islay! After a fine lunch of fresh crab soup, crab claws and malt whisky at the tiny pub in the picturesque harbour at Portnahaven with its resident seals lounging on the rocks outside we were ready for a spot of serious sea watching on Wednesday. Frenchman’s Rocks are the most Westerly part of Islay and a great place for finding sea birds. In gale force winds, driving rain and a 25
foot Atlantic swell we witnessed what must be the worlds fastest sea birds as Manx shearwater, guillemot, razorbill and (somewhat surprisingly) puffins sped past at speeds that birds were surely never designed for.
Friday saw us add only one more to the list – dunlin - at the cost of another good soaking. A final jolly night in the Port Charlotte Hotel looked after by our genial host Graham and his 140 malts saw tales of the week exchanged and exaggerated. So we declared on a total of 98 species. Soundly trounced by the Field Studies Council pensioners on 106. Beaten but not defeated. Birding on Islay turns the norm on its head. We saw merlin but no kestrel, chough but no magpie, barnacle but no Canada and Slavonian but no great crested. Islay with all its atmosphere, big weather, Hebridean hospitality and history. Where else can you enjoy such fine whisky, magnificent walks and, oh yes, birds – thousands and thousands of birds.
Tony Wilmot is a Headmaster from Lichfield, Staffs
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