Northern Experience Wildlife Tours

Author: martin

  • Masters of all we survey?

    I’ve just finished my 3rd consecutive day of survey work (ok, today was just a couple of hours around dawn, but you get the idea).

    Friday and Saturday saw me up to 20 miles offshore, leading a survey team of Alan Tilmouth, Ross Ahmed, Allan Skinner (our boat skipper) and Jimmy (erstwhile SarahJFK crew member and very diligent data-recorder).  Friday didn’t look promising as we drove to Royal Quays in thick fog, and the marina was mired in the gloom as well as we met up with Tom Brereton from Marinelife.  However, once out of the Tyne we quickly passed out of the fog bank and into some stunning weather.

    Martin and Tom scanning for cetaceans
    Martin and Tom scanning for cetaceans
    Ross, Alan and Tom observing and recording seabird distribution and abundance
    Ross, Alan and Tom observing and recording seabird distribution and abundance
     On the return there was a superb sunset but the fog had extended to almost 6 miles offshore and we had one of those real pelagic experiences.
    Tom scanning ahead of the SarahJFK for cetaceans
    Tom scanning ahead of the SarahJFK for cetaceans
    Ross still recording, Alan looking cheerful as we approach a fog bank
    Ross and Alan still recording as we approach the fog bank that ended Friday's survey
    Tom, Martin, Ross and Alan heading home
    Tom, Martin, Ross and Alan heading home

    Yesterday had overall better visibility but slighty lumpier seas, as we covered the area from Blyth to Druridge Bay.  Having completed about 80 miles of transect surveys in 2 days we’ve already gathered a lot of seabird data.  The North Sea (which is relatively small) seems pretty big when you’re far enough offshore to not be able to see any land.  When 3 experienced seawatchers look around and say “we don’t really have a clue what’s out here do we?” then it hammers home the importance of what we’re doing.  Having found Puffins on both surveys so far, and five Little Gulls on Saturday, we’re all eagerly anticipating the rest of our winter surveys.  We’ve got a few spaces on most of the survey trips (which will run when the weather allows us the opportunity) which are available for a contribution of £20/person/trip (a much lower rate than our commercial pelagics trips in July-September).  Give us a call, wrap up warm and join us on a journey into the unknown.

    On dry (well, drier) land, Sarah and myself set out this morning for the December Icelandic Goose Census.Two Barn Owls were a bonus in the bone-chilling temperatures.  Last month I drew a blank with our goose monitoring and this month was hardly any better; just 3 Greylag Geese at the roost site that is designated as part of the census.  Looks like we’ll be out again at dusk, trying to locate the birds as they fly to roost.

  • Natural therapy

    This morning dawned clear and bright and my original plan had been to take the camera and head up the coast to shoot some of our stunning landscapes at sunrise and then use the available light and switch to a 500mm lens for some wildlife shots.  As it was I reluctantly decided against that option, mainly because I’ve got 6 stitches in my back and I’m going out as photographer on a survey boat tomorrow so didn’t want to put that in jeopardy (although let’s be honest – it’s a pelagic trip, so it would take a lot to keep me on dry land).  A couple more days will see the wound healing nicely and the forecast wintry weather should bring more photo opportunities next week.  I’m giving a lecture on December 27th so I’ve set myself the task of shooting at least 50% of the images for that in the next two weeks.  Hopefully starting with White-beaked Dolphin tomorrow.

    This afternoon I left the office and went for a walk around Choppington Woods, describing the reserve, it’s management and our plans for the future with the man who has the unenviable task of trying to do something similar with a somewhat less attractive bit of woodland elsewhere in southeast Northumberland.  As we stood on the boardwalk a Moorhen swam by and a flock of Siskins landed in the top of a bare Larch.  Always enjoyable to watch, they swirled around like a swarm of bees.  Redwings called overhead as they began dropping into the dense hawthorns where they roost and a Blackbird burst from a hedge in alarm as we startled it.  And there it was, the disappointment of the morning washed away by just getting outside and enjoying our local woodland.  Some of our clients have commented how incredibly relaxing they find our tours.  Perhaps there’s an escape for all of us (even if only briefly) from this modern, stressful world that we inhabit?

  • Waiting room

    Yesterday started with a bit of a surprise – 12 Greenfinches in the garden.  They’ve been scarce so far this autumn/winter and other observers in Northumberland have noticed the same lack of birds.  The worry is that many of our local birds may have fallen victim to trichomoniasis, so it was good to see, and hear, this small flock.

    Most of the rest of the day was spent in a waiting room at our local hospital.  I’m not generally good with hospitals/needles etc so after arriving at my scheduled appointment time (11:30) I had nearly 4 hours to contemplate the forthcoming minor op, before finally being taken to theatre at 3:15pm.  There weren’t even any birds visible from the windows of the waiting room so I had to amuse myself reading Fowler and Cohen’s ‘Statistics for Ornithologists’ (see, I thought there might have been a bit of a wait so I went prepared).  The hospital were very kind and provided a light lunch.  However, given the number of posters about healthy diet etc that plaster the hospital walls you have to wonder about the contents of the lunch; a packet of crisps, a cheese savoury sandwich (note to anyone not from this part of the world – cheese savoury is grated cheese in mayonnaise, you could probably use it to fill cracks in walls) made with sliced white bread and a chocolate cupcake.  You couldn’t make it up.

    By the time I was discharged it was dark outside so no chance of birdwatching.  And today my birding will be mainly from the office window again as I’ve got no less than 5 meetings to attend; 2 as Chair of Governors at our local school, 1 as Chair of the Friends of Choppington Woods and 2 as Secretary of Outdoors Northumberland.  Then there were another 2 meetings that I’ve had to give my apologies for.  At least tomorrow should be back to ‘normal’…

  • Classic arrival conditions?

    After the Seal and Seaduck Special on Saturday, we opted for a birdwatching walk on Sunday.  The original plan was to leave my car at Alnmouth, drive to Craster in Sarah’s car and then walk the coastal path between the two villages.  As we set off from Craster it looked good for our walk, but within 15 minutes we were caught up in a howling southerly and driving icy rain.  Eventually, after slightly less than half of our planned route we admitted defeat and returned to Craster harbour.  Then the weather improved…sitting and enjoying our picnic at the harbourside, watching Turnstones, Redshanks and Oystercatchers, we were alerted to the presence of a dumpy brown bird coming ‘in-off’ as everything scattered from the harbour wall.  Thoughts of Little Owl, or something rarer, quickly vanished as the bird’s very long bill became evident.  Now, mid-October in a howling northeasterly is the time we would expect to find Woodcock arriving on the coast, but early December in a 25mph southerly?  It landed just a few feet from us, in the middle of the track, and sat for about 20 seconds before flying low up the road out of the village.

    After 2 days out and about, the payback was a day of housework/admin on Monday.  So, I decided to ‘sort out’ our bookshelves.  Always a bad idea as I’m easily distracted, and re-arranging our books invariably leads to “hmm, I haven’t looked at that for a while”…

  • Time flies…

    Yesterday was split between the office and a very entertaining business meeting at the Black Olive Cafe at Lee Moor Farm.  An exciting new product will be the eventual outcome of the discussions started yesterday, but a more immediate agreement was to hold a New Year’s Eve walk around Lee Moor.

    The drive up the A1 was stunning; clean, crisp air, blue skies and a distant view of The Cheviot covered in snow.  Days like this are still, for me, amongst the best that Northumberland has and make winter birdwatching so enjoyable.  Kestrels were hovering along the roadside, Common Buzzards were soaring and Roe Deer were venturing out from plantation edges.  The journey back home was equally stunning; as light levels fell, but the air was still clean and bright, the aforementioned Buzzards were perched in bare trees almost directly below where they’d been soaring a few hours earlier.  Rooks and Jackdaws were sitting around in that sinister way that they have and Blackbirds continually flirted with danger as they crossed the A1 at windscreeen height.

    Then, back at the office, my task was to deal with the latest batch of Gift Voucher orders.  Each order is packaged with a greetings card with artwork by an excellent local artist, and we always try to speak to each person who has placed an order as well.  It makes December one of our busiest times of the year.  It’s hard to believe that it’s over 2 years since I left teaching, and rapidly approaching 2 years since we led our first NEWT Safari.

  • I’m lichen it

    If there’s a prize for worst blogpost title then I must be in the running with this one.  What makes it even worse is that I thought of it on Friday night last week and have only just got round to using it now.  Perhaps my subconscious was suppressing it?

    Anyhow, last Friday I attended one of the Natural History Society of Northumbria’s indoor meetings.  The speaker for the evening was Janet Simkin, a lichenologist.  Now that’s quite a thing…lichens are widespread, they can be studied all year round and they are fascinating indicators of the cleanliness, or otherwise, of the air around us, yet some of my clients who have deep interests in many branches of natural history have always issued dire warnings about lichenologists; “they’re a bit strange”, “if you have one on one of your trips, you’ll be lucky if they leave the carpark”, “they move in a geological timeframe” are some of the kinder words spoken.

    So why am I blogging about lichens?  Well, a few weeks ago I was visiting an elderly friend, who has a remarkable personal library, and we were looking through his collection of books on lower plants.  Tucked in amongst them was a guide to identifying lichens, which he removed from the shelf, handed to me and said “here, life’s too short…if I’d started 50 years ago this may have been some use”.  I’d started to take notice of the lichens report in the excellent British Wildlife as well, some mouth-watering images and tales of rare and remote species stimulating my interest.

    Dr Simkin’s talk was fascinating , detailing how lichen species have appeared and then vanished with changes in air quality.  There was then a short presentation by Katy Barnard about the OPAL Air Survey. Now this is a bit of fieldwork/research that anyone can participate in.  The results can be viewed online, and it gives you an excuse to get outdoors and get some fresh air (assuming that’s what the lichens you find indicate…)

  • Out with the old…

    OK, it isn’t 2010 just yet but the NEWT website has been replaced by a new(er) one.

    The only big cosmetic change is the blog.  We’ve opted for a contemporary look, and it adds a lot of functionality that we didn’t have access to previously.  Embedding images and video clips is just one of those functions, so we’re going to make the most of that whenever the opportunity arises.

    Much of the last few weeks has been spent at my desk, writing content for the website and checking links etc whenever Daniel has uploaded a new set of changes. 

    The NEWT office window bird
    The NEWT office window bird

    This means that most of my birdwatching has been focussed on one small section of southeast Northumberland; our back garden with it’s apple and ash trees, tangles of bramble, ‘wild’ allotment and ever-growing selection of bird feeders.  Jays, Great Spotted Woodpeckers, Bullfinches, Willow Tits, Redwings and Fieldfares have all visited in the last few days and the cold spell we’re in currently is accelerating the bird visits to the garden.  I still keep having this dream about Siberian Accentor…

  • A harrowing story…

    of suffering and depravation. That’s the ongoing tale of heroics, kelp crisps and seal milk over on the Farne Islands blog. I’ve always been impressed by the majesty of the North Sea, particularly when it’s crashing against the east coast in the early winter. It can’t be much fun for the lads out on the Farnes though, with food supplies almost exhausted and beer just a distant memory…

    I was once asked to list my top 5 birdwatching experiences and the Farne Islands are right near the top of that list. The islands feature regularly on the NEWT itinerary; between April-October we run Seal Safaris, from May-July we include landing trips, and in November and December we have our exclusive ‘Tystie Trek’ and ‘Seal and Seaduck Special’ cruises.

    A seabird colony at the height of the breeding season is a thing of great wonder. One of our trips this year was for a journalist from Coast magazine, who we took across to the islands to give her the experience of our beginners birdwatching courses and we arranged an interview with the Head Warden, David Steel, for her as well. At this time of year the birds (well most of them anyway) may be gone but the seals are there. There can’t be many creatures more resilient…but the Farne islands wardens are giving it a go.

  • Desolate

    The wind is whipping around my ears, bitingly cold. A real multi-sensory experience, with an eerie whistling as it carves through the dark towers of a nearby stand of pines. Against the inky blackness of the night sky a myriad of stars are twinkling and the moonlight is diffused through a thin halo of cloud. Birdwatching in the dark is an endeavour of surprises. The thin, high calls of Redwings carry on the wind; stragglers from the daylight feeding foray into the hinterland of Blyth and Newbiggin, the coastal towns of southeast Northumberland. Immersion in the darkness is always an exciting experience. Stripped of much of the visual world around us, other senses come to prominence; the scent of leaf-mould and fungi, the quavering hoots and sharp ‘kewicks’ of Tawny Owls, barking Foxes and rustling rodents, the tactile sensation of twigs and branches brushing against your face as you pick your way down a familiar footpath. Without the visual clues that usually lead you down the route, it’s like a whole new world waiting to be explored.

  • Going Wild and Taking Stock

    Yesterday saw me doing a lot of travelling in some pretty dire weather (although thankfully not as awful as the events in Cumbria). First was a long journey up to Perth to attend the Wild Scotland annual conference. Luckily I was able to travel up to the conference with someone who was travelling even further to get there. The presentations on Scottish Wildcats, Deer-watching and a Tourism Survey in Scotland were all very interesting, but personally I thought the best part of the day was when the delegates were separated out into focus groups. Now, this isn’t usually something I would find too thrilling but, with wildlife tourism being a fairly well developed industry in Scotland it was an opportunity to hear the thoughts of the people that are at the sharp-end of it. The networking opportunities presented by attending the conference were a real bonus as well, and our ongoing planning for 2010 has been informed (for the better, we hope!) by some of the discussions I was involved in.

    After Perth we had to negotiate the frustration that is the A720 at rush-hour…

    Eventually, and just in the nick of time, we arrived at The Maltings theatre in Berwick for a presentation by Laurie Campbell, entitled ‘Taking Stock’. It was enthralling to sit and listen to a professional wildlife photographer describing how certain images were obtained…while projected on to the screen were some mouth-watering examples of his art. A very nice glass of red wine during the interval (ok, it was a plastic tumbler but that’s the only way they’ll allow you to take liquids back into the auditorium) was enjoyed while chatting with several friends, mainly wildlife and birdwatching photographers from various areas of Northumberland and the Borders.

    I like days where everything is thought-provoking and inspirational.