"The Small Isles", West Scotland (incl Fort William) - 25th-29th May 2013 (29th-31st) (1 Viewer)

[Paul Collins]

"The Small Isles", West Scotland (incl Fort William) - 25th-29th May 2013 (29th-31st)

Introduction

As expedition organiser for the University of Edinburgh Photographic Society, I decided to take a small group of 7 people on a 5-day trip to "The Small Isles", a small archipelago in the Inner Hebrides, to round off our photographic season. I tied this in with a 2-night stay at the Glen Loy Wildlife Lodge in Banavie, near Fort William, which I had won for a recent success in a local wildlife photography competition.

My knowledge of the west coast is relatively young, having only led a trip to Oban and the nearby islands of Kerrera and Mull in 2010, and then to Skye in 2012, the furthest west we had managed as a society thus far. Something about the Hebrides - its remoteness, alleged inaccessibility (at least, the map on the wall in my Oban hostel succeeded in romanticising its isolation from the rest of Scotland) and wonderful wildlife, not to mention basking sharks and whales - made me consider this unrivalled region for our spring trip. So I focussed on the two less populous islands, Eigg and Canna, over the more well known Rhum and Muck, which seemed a little over-explored by the likes of the BBC Natural History Unit and the Springwatch team. I knew nothing about Eigg and Canna so started planning in December, with the aim to head out in early Summer.



I should stress that this was primarily a photography trip, not a wildlife watching trip, although wildlife photography was high on most peoples' lists and much bird-life, such as golden eagles and puffins, seeped into our day-to-day activities. My two days at Glen Loy were much more wildlife focussed, with a broad consideration of all things great and small from otters and martens to ferns and fungi. In any case, I hope this gives naturalists planning to visit the area a flavour of the kind of things that can be found with relative ease or a little luck.

Planning

TRANSPORTATION

Trains: Run daily from Edinburgh to Mallaig or Arasaig, the two ports from which ferries depart to The Small Isles, but are few in number. I got a 7am train via Glasgow Queen Street, which gets to Mallaig at 1:30 - a good hour before the ferry departs.

Caledonian MacBrayne Ferries: Service is fast and reliable, but the timetable is rather restrictive, meaning that any disruption in service can have a huge effect on your itinerary. Their website includes up-to-date service information and a timetable: http://www.calmac.co.uk/destinations/eigg.htm. I saw plenty of seabirds from the ship, and pelagic mammals and sharks can be seen occasionally as well, although I've been told the Arasaig boat service will more often make detours for this wildlife. Recent sightings here: http://www.whaledolphintrust.co.uk/sightings-recent-sightings.asp

ACCOMMODATION

Eigg: A list of various accommodation can be found here, http://www.isleofeigg.net/self_catering.html. We stayed at Eigg Yurting and Camping, http://www.eiggorganics.co.uk/, an excellent little campsite with great views of Rhum and the beaches. A relatively sheltered spot, run by lovely hosts Sue and Neil Hollands (and their dog Rosie!). Very well positioned in the north, a short walk from Laig Bay and the Singing Sands, but recommended to get a drive as it's an hour walk from the pier. The local birdwatcher Jon Chester is worth contacting.

Canna: A very small island community, Canna has one campsite and a couple of small self-catered cottages. We stayed at the camp-site, a fantastic site overlooking the entire east side of the island. Eagles and buzzards regularly flew overhead. Contact Stewart Connor, the island warden, for further information at [email protected] - he provided a useful knowledge of the wildlife of Canna and Sanday.

Glen Loy Lodge, Fort William: Located 7 miles from Fort William, with views of Ben Nevis and Aonach Mor, this hunting lodge is truly a wonderful spot. Jon Mercer is a fantastic host and guide (his wife Angela was away in the Philippines), and a very good cook as well! The main attraction, apart from the peace and quiet, is probably the resident pine marten family which comes to his terrace every evening - the mother was looking in whilst I was eating dinner! I fortunately got onto the 2 day trips for a considerable discount, but it's well worth every penny as he'll do his best to show you a good range of animal species http://www.wildlifeextra.com/go/uk/glenloy-wildlife.html#cr. He updates his blog with sightings here: http://www.glenloylodge.co.uk/jonsblog/.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 1 - Saturday 25th May - Arrival in Eigg

Train: Glasgow to Mallaig

Incredible views around Dumbarton, Glenfinnan (the site of the "Harry Potter" bridge) and in Corrour, where I saw a herd of 20-odd red deer.

Ferry: Mallaig to Eigg

I met up with the rest of the group in Mallaig and set off on the 1-hour crossing to Eigg, spending most of the time out on deck. A casual birdwatch with binoculars, and largely with the naked eye, produced rafts and fly-bys of manx shearwaters, eiders, puffins, razorbills, black guillemots and spatterings of fulmars, shags, and arctic tern. A possible common dolphin, but could easily have been something else.

Eigg Yurting & Camping

Arriving in the pier, we secured a few black guillemot, which are rather common here, some female eider with young birds, and the first of many harbour seals. Sue and Neil Hollands gave us a lift to the camp; many little birds, probably meadow pipits although I hoped I might find my first twite among them, flitted in the fields. The terrain was quite hilly on either side, the most prominent feature of the inland landscape being the dormant volcano An Sgurr, which we'd climb tomorrow.



Nearer our camp, the land opened up into impressive bays. From our site, we had excellent sightings of two cuckoos, one perched on a tree and another flying through a field. They were incredibly vocal, going on throughout the night, even when the sky had completely darkened, and by far the most 'present' bird in terms of making its presence known.



A walk along the Singing Sands, so called because of the squeaky sound that the white sands make when you walk on them, hosted oystercatchers, 1 common sandpiper, 1 shag, 2 rock pipits and a curlew. A couple of arctic terns were diving out at sea - no signs of guillemot species or divers. We got our first golden eagle soaring overhead in the northerly hills, which was a great first sighting for the other members in our group to get.



Back at camp in the evening, there were numerous pairs of song thrush and dunnock active on the rocks and fences, many hooded crows, a nice grey version of the southerly carrion crow, and a sparrowhawk high over the camp. During dinner, which we ate in an abandoned chicken coop shed, a wren flew through the broken window and briefly struggled to get back out. The cuckoo continued cuckooing long into the night.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 2 - Sunday 26th May - Exploration of Eigg

Campsite

A single buzzard, plus a fantastic male hen harrier in flight, gave us our third and fourth birds of prey for the campsite to add to our golden eagle and sparrowhawk. The cuckoo unsurprisingly hadn't stopped singing for a single second, and in our afternoon explorations we were consistently alerted to yet more cuckoos - fortunately we got to see two or three of these on the walk down to Laig Bay.

Laig Bay

We passed by Lageorna Restaurant, the only restaurant on Eigg, which overlooks part of the bay, to book dinner for the evening as a bad forecast was expected. I had the best views I've ever had of siskin feeding on the bird-feeder, and a good view too of coal tit and other more common typical garden specialities. The hillsides down to the beach were littered with rabbits and grazing sheep, whilst swallows flitted back and forth hawking for insects in the warm sunshine. The bay is impressive for its geological features, and has plenty of rock pools which hosted water hoglice and a thin, long fish species which I couldn't identify. Similar birds to yesterday with pied wagtails, 1 common sandpiper, 2 arctic terns, and 3 ringed plovers, and the abundant oystercatchers, called 'the magpies of the coast' by one local birder. My second wheatear of the year graced me with its presence, a fabulous male on the rock formations further along the bay.


Whilst we ate lunch back at the beach pathway, on the sands, I was slightly surprised to see a few sand martins, which landed on a washing line right next to us. They had made a small nesting bank just a little further along. In hindsight I'm not sure why this northerly sighting surprised me, as midges were plentiful and much more so than in southern parts of Scotland (and absent from most of the UK). It's a nice spot for birds, but far better for the rocks, sand fractals and landscapes, and a chance to rock-pool made me feel like a child again.

An Sgurr

A pleasant walk along the road to An Sgurr, the same as our drive yesterday and just a slight diversion from the pier. Near the "Swap Shop", where you can exchange old clothes, and the primary school, we took some pictures of a rode beetle crossing the road. I kept a look out for crossbills in the conifers but found none, instead getting a few siskin and two goldfinches on the pathway to An Sgurr, near the solar panels.




We had a couple more golden eagles and a buzzardalong the foot of the volcano, and a singing cuckoo which displayed well on a stone wall near a beautiful field of bluebells (made slightly less idyllic by the intrusion of nettles). Up on the mountain itself, very little except for the constantly calling you-know-what and a nice raven. Our return evening journey along the road produced peacock butterfly and a dung beetle, and otherwise little else from what we had already seen.




Evening at Camp

A very stormy evening resulted in us 'camping out' in the Lageorna Restaurant, a decent establishment with good food (although the menu is rather limited), looking optimistically out to a choppy sea. The cuckoo again, calling through the walls of our tents, but I must admit that if there's one call I could never get tired of, it's that of the cuckoo.

 

[Paul Collins]

Some images from the day - Laig Bay and its sand formations (no fractals shown here), and one of the sand martins on a clothes line.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 3 - Monday 27th May - Departure for Canna

Early Morning Walk

Heavy rain throughout the night eventually cleared for a little bit around 6:30am. The sudden silence - no rain, no wind, and even no cuckoo - seemed to have woken me up, so I decided to have a walk down to Laig Bay with the camera, to spot birds and to see what state the sea was in this morning: I feared strong stormy weather would mean a ferry cancellation, which would drastically affect our plans to go onwards to Canna.



In fact the sea looked calm and blue and, apart from the occasional drizzle, it looked like a fine day. I found siskin again by the Lageorna Restaurant, and turning down to the beach I spotted a calling sedge warbler in the neighbouring reeds. I had little time on the beach itself as I needed to get back for breakfast and pack up camp.

Walk to the Pier

Neil agreed to drive us and our bags down to the pier for our 12pm sailing, but there wasn't quite enough room for all of us so I agreed to walk on ahead and meet them there. Although someone had joked it must be nice to have an hour to myself without guiding the group around, it was pleasant strolling along without too much hurry, and in fact I left my camera in the vehicle and just took binoculars with me this time. A variety of finches - siskins, goldfinches, chaffinches, greenfinches - were prevalent along the road and the woodland edges, whilst from every bush there was at least one willow warbler or wheatearto be seen or heard. I was glad to get an astonishing view of a golden eagle flying past quite low, and a raven, slightly more distant than the one I had seen on An Sgurr, around a rusty barn. I suddenly heard a grating noise, which I would best describe as a cross between a duck quacking and someone running their finger along a comb - a corncrake? As I listened, it became obvious that it was this elusive bird and, living up to its reputation, it remained undetectable. Eiders graced the sea and, once I was into proper hill territory, it was mainly the small finches which accompanied me during the middle part of my walk.

As I came to the turn-off for An Sgurr and the pier, more spring migrants appeared in the form of a very handsome male whitethroat scratchily calling from a high perch atop the gorse. Bluebells became more common, along the stone walls and in the adjoining fields going down to the first areas of water. A spotted flycatcher on a fence post was a nice find, and even better yet was a much louder rendition of the grating noise I had heard earlier - a second corncrake! I scanned the bluebells and rock terraces for signs of the song's maker but found none. The grass and surrounding irises, not yet in full bloom, weren't quite long enough to hide a corncrake, but the bluebells and ferns were thick enough to easily conceal one. Unfortunately not a lifer that I can add yet to my list, but I could happily live with the romantic exoticism of the note made later in my birdbook: "Corncrake - heard, Isle of Eigg, Inner Hebrides - 27/05/2013".

Fortunately I was to get a lifer just around the corner: a small finch which I was surprised I hadn't yet seen here. A flock of roughly 8 twite twittered over (the OED tells me that 'to twite' is in fact a verb, meaning exactly this, to twitter or tweet). They gave a nice view near to where the corncrake was still calling, and fed on the grass with a smattering of other more common finches. Twite had eluded me in various locations - at NWT Cley and RSPB Titchwell in Norfolk, and further north at Musselburgh near Edinburgh - so I was relieved to find my first ones at long last, and a much more elegant bird than I had thought, very similar to redpolls but lacking the red head markings and quite buff and pink underneath in their summer plumage.

Pier

Because of my short diversion, I made it to the pier just a few moments after the others did. Rocky outcrops gave me a nice perch from which to observe a few black guillemot out on the water - a very nice bolder-coloured version of the common guillemot, and a bird which I had last seen in Oban 3 years ago (forgetting last Saturday of course). Eiders as well, and even a few redpoll - definitely these, for the reasons I mention above, and because Jon Chester the local bird-man confirmed that afterwards. A little walk along a path on the rocks and boggier ground gave me a very close cronking raven just before we got on the (delayed) ferry for Canna.

Ferry from Eigg to Canna

A two hour ferry which I spent largely indoors; I went out for a few minutes to look back at Eigg as we set off, and then outside again once we passed Rhum. Again, the usual fare: approximately 15 puffins, 15 manx shearwater, very elegantly gliding, 3 guillemot, and a possible common dolphin - again, I can't be certain of this as the sea wasn't quite flat enough to confirm what my eyes thought they saw among the waves. They could at least discern 2 harbour seals at very close range, bobbing up and down, which no one else on deck seemed to notice.

There were many birders, casual and more serious, on deck, and I ended up chatting to one woman who was doing an all-round boat trip from Mallaig. I pointed out the sea birds to her, but she missed the great skua which flew over the old fort of Canna as our boat drew into the pier.

Canna campsite and Sanday Island



Stewart, the island warden, met us and took our bags to the site, some 20 minutes up the road which winds alongside the inlets. The island on appearance is completely opposite to Eigg's hilly landscapes and white sand beaches - whereas Eigg, we had agreed, had felt positively Oceanic at times, its fractal sands, green velvet rocks and azure rockpools like somewhere in Australia, Canna's landscape resembled something more Nordic. Golden eagles and the smaller buzzard were common here, especially over our campsite, the eagles sporting long fringes on their wings and magnificent gold sheens. I was told there were also a couple of pairs of sea eagles around, which we'd no doubt see, but I can't be sure I actually saw these, even when we were privileged to observe a total of 8 large birds of prey, including a possible hen harrier in moult, over the site later that evening. I was glad to also see more twite in the camping field, a common sight here it seemed. Rabbits and sheep everywhere.

We were kept busy with the eagles and buzzards against the pink sunset sky until some time after 10pm, and with the sky still well lit for another two hours, we took a walk down to Sanday Island. Sanday is even more remote and quiet than Canna, and it is possible to walk across the entire island, accessible by footbridge, without seeing a single person. I quickly saw a pipistrelle bat near the water, various waders camouflaged in the pebbles, such as common sandpipers, ringed plovers and dunlin.



We tried to get into St Edward's Church (seen in the photograph, two above) but it was locked except on a couple of days a week when it was presumably open for a morning service. Just down below around the fishing boats we saw one, then two, then three harbour seals, very inquisitive as to what we were doing.



As it was still light, we continued around the island, near to Dun Beag where the puffins and guillemots nest and which we'd explore more the next day, along the coastal fringes. Most of the group bounded on ahead to photograph the cliffs in the setting sun, whilst I held back with a couple of others to watch a pair of great skuas - which, as we continued our way through their large nesting ground, promptly began to dive-bomb us! I started running, holding my hands over my head protectively, and the other two did the same, perhaps a little more fearful of their fate than was necessary, given my sudden 'Run!' reaction.



Canna south coast

As the sun properly set, we had a quick scour of the southern cliffs towards Tarbet. Just a couple of ravens, swift, wheatear, and a pied wagtail to add to what we had seen, and as we returned to camp we saw a few buzzards - including one which had a Canna woodmouse in its talons: an island endemic!
Canna camp area and Sanday

 

[Paul Collins]

Other shots from Canna:

 

[BrockwellBee]

Great report so far Paul! Beautiful landscapes and some fine birds there. Nice one!

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 4 - Tuesday 28th May - Exploring Canna

Early Start on Sanday

Glorious weather all day, so I couldn't resist a proper early morning start - I didn't quite get sunset (that would have been quite a feat considering I got to bed at 1am), but I made the kelpy beaches of Sanday by not long after. I wasn't looking for anything to photograph or watch in particular, although I hoped I might get a glimpse of the Garrisdale otters and harbour seals. I didn't venture too far into Sanday as I preferred not to have another run-in with the great skuas, so I just stuck to the beaches and community near St Edward's - although did get a glimpse of one flying low over the footbridge, harassing some common gulls.



Along the western fringe of Sanday I found 3 ringed plovers, where I had seen them the previous day, a few female eider and the odd male bird too, more oystercatcher, wheatear, rabbits, even a couple of early rising golden eagles. Swallows were starting to emerge around 6am, busily flitting around an old barn with nesting material. A starling had also taken up residence in the corrugated roof, so I spent some time photographing it coming to and fro with grubs.



Bluebell Woods

By the time I had returned to camp at 8am, everyone else was slowly getting up. Buzzards were soaring on thermals as we ate breakfast, and a pair of greylags, from a larger flock of 20 or 30 birds which congregate on Sanday, flew over the footbridge.



Our plan for the day was to visit the Northern part of the island, around the little chapel and Celtic cross, perhaps explore the woodland, and then cross over to the puffin colony at Dun Beag and Dun Mor. I shan't go into much detail on our morning activities as they mainly concerned visiting this chapel, a quite charming little stone building, and the cliffs around the fort, where we stumbled upon bluebell carpets and some very succulent mint - I made a very refreshing iced mint tea by putting a handful of these leaves in my water bottle and shaking vigorously.

The flanking woods look unassuming at first glance, but a minute's walk up the narrow trail which winds through it produced a startling display of bluebells mixed with strong smelling wild garlic. Unable to resist, I pulled up a few of the latter to eat, not quite pulling up the cloves, but the roots were tasty enough, first sharp and then with a lovely sugary after-taste.



We lunched by the idyllic self-catered cottage at the top of the hill, once you leave the forest. One of our group placed some nuts and dried fruit atop a stone wall to see if it might attract any birds (a herbivorous golden eagle perhaps, she hoped!), but in the end it wasn't such a futile idea: first a wren came along, clambering along the stones and taking a quick peek, but it didn't seem overly keen of pineapple; then a couple of bickering wheatear, one which promptly flew off, leaving the other with nothing better to do than inspect some of the nuts which had been disturbed in the process. Lunch wouldn't be complete without a cuckoo calling somewhere in the woods, and we were astonished to see a pipistrelle bat swooping around in broad daylight (Jon Mercer from the Glenloy Lodge tells me that this is quite common in the longer summer days, when small insects are also more present and bats may become disorientated).

Dun Beag and Dun Mor, Sanday

After lunch, the group split up into two groups: those who wanted to photograph the west cliffs, looking out towards Skye, and those who preferred the idea of sitting among puffins and guillemots. I took the Sanday group, keen to get myself some flight shots. It took much longer than expected to get to Dun Beag, the first and smaller offshore colony, perhaps an hour or more. Our walk there was pretty uneventful, with just lapwings wheeling most of the way, and the ubiquitous rabbits. A small patch of reedbed, surrounded by washed-up debris, hosted a redd bunting and sedge warbler, obviously making opportune use of this rarely found habitat.

Finally reaching Dun Beag around 3, we saw no puffins, but plenty of guillemots and, higher up on the cliff face, a few fulmars on nests. We spent half an hour photographing the birds flying around, spotting the occasional gannet, shag or dainty kittiwake in the corner of our viewfinder. Surprisingly in the time we were there, we only saw two razorbill and no black guillemots at all, although I suspect those are more common around the pier and inhabited areas.



Continuing a little further along to Dun Mor, a rock stack inaccessible by foot so best watched either from these cliffs or from the birdwatching rib trips, we found a few shags on the lower rocks, and finally some passage of puffins, the star attraction for those who had accompanied me here. They were nesting atop the Dun Mor stack, in their grassy burrows, a rather perfect nesting spot completely inaccessible by whatever land predators there might be. I had expected we might be able to sit among the puffins, as I had done in the past on Skomer Island in Pembrokeshire, but instead we had to do with fly-bys.

Our walk took us on a loop around the northerly slopes of Sanday, towards the lighthouse, where another pair of great skuas are reported to breed. It wasn't long until we saw these, fortunately minding their own business, the male bird strutting his stuff, wings stretched out far behind him. Nevertheless I still took caution and walked below the slope so that they wouldn't see us and take alarm. We found a good spot to sit and watch the birds from a distance, and down below there was a group of rocks which, upon further inspection, revealed 11 harbour seal sleeping peacefully. We were able to watch these for quite a while, until we realised that it was getting close to 6pm so time to start returning to camp for dinner.

Our return just got a couple of shelduck, some ringed plovers among the lapwing, another single gannet, and when taking a water break, someone found a pair of large red damselflies, very attractive insects with iridescent green heads. Pipistrelles over the bridge marked the arrival of evening - some 6 hours since we had seen the pipistrelle at lunch.

Evening on the pier

Our last evening in the Isles, so I did a final explore around the campsite. Golden eagles and buzzards overhead - I'm still not sure whether any of these were white-tailed sea eagles, but unless I get a positive photographic identification, I might just have to leave that lifer for another day - and the local party of twite, now interspersed with 2 redpoll. I got some quite nice photos of these on the stone wall along the bottom of our field, which I'll put in my next post.

A sheep had managed to break into our field, and had become separated from its lamb, so I had to head down to the pier to inform Stewart. An hour round trip gave me a couple of extra birds for the trip, a rock pipit and 2 red breasted mergansers directly in the pier. I also had good views of a harbour seal, bobbing among a ring of black guillemot and eider, from the shop cum cafe (not physically run by anyone, but instead there's an "honesty box" should you wish to purchase anything; it seemed most places, like Canna House, the small museum, and the churches were managed from afar, without any staff so to speak on site).

On my walk back to camp, I realised that for all of us Canna was a place that would be truly missed, for its unique wildlife of course but perhaps more so for the astonishing sunset which it offered us as a parting gift. The sky filled with flushes of pink, lilac, turquoise, a soft palette of creamy yellows and whites. Manx shearwaters, a bird which no longer nests on Canna due to the invasion of brown rats within the last century, called eerily from distant Rhum as the new day dawned.

 

[Paul Collins]

Pictures from the day:


A lovely twite below our campsite.


Male wheatear near camp.


Eider in pier.


Red breasted merganser.


Hooded crow near the chapel.

 

[Paul Collins]

Further pictures...:


Kittiwakes near Dun Beag.


Puffins by Dun Mor.


Fulmar in flight.


Large red damselfly on Sanday.


Amazing sunset on final evening.

 

[ClarkWGriswold]

Superb report Paul. Looking forward to the rest.

Rich

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 5 - Wednesday 29th May - Final Day in Small Isles; Heading for Glen Loy

Morning on south cliffs

A morning walk at 6am along the south cliffs produced little of note, with respect that is to what I had already seen: 1 golden eagle, the flock of twites at camp, rock pipits and pied wagtailsalong the shore, wherever there were rocks, 5 black guillemots at sea, a single gannet quite nicely interacting with arctic terns, and best of all 3 ravens. Also a few moths, which I initially thought were skippers but in hindsight I think they were probably heath moth.



Packing up tent at 9am, we found a caterpillar of some sort, a rather large queen wasp (attacking my head), and a beetle sp.



Pier

We had all morning and early afternoon to relax on the stony beach, skimming stones and "fishing" for crabs - found one with ease, and many dead ones too under our selected skimming stones. The red breasted merganser was back, nearer to shore this time, and the usual 3 ringed plovers and oystercatcher group. Just enough time to get in Canna House too (the gardens at least, not the house itself, which was closed). In the tunnel of tree overhang leading up to the house, we had a very sweet fledgling robin tweeting one step ahead of us, on the lower branches. Bluebells and wild garlic in abundance everywhere.

Ferry to Mallaig

Saying a final farewell to Canna, we boarded the 2 1/2 hour ferry crossing back to Mallaig, where we would all head our separate ways. I spent little time on deck, but was tempted to venture out when I realised how many birdwatchers there were - a good twenty or thirty - and that I might increase my chances of seeing dolphins or sharks if I did so. No luck, but got the usual tally of black guillemots, common guillemot, razorbills, puffins, manx shearwaters, harbour seal and, as we finally came into Mallaig, a couple of kittiwake among huge throngs of greater black backed and herring gull.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 5 - cont. - Arrival at Glen Loy

A stunning drive from Mallaig to Fort William, with amazing views of Ben Nevis and the Cairn Gorm range.

Arrived at the lodge around 9pm, having just missed the resident pine marten's "feeding time" and a narrow-bordered bee hawkmoth in the front flowerbed (hawkmoths being my favourite moth family, it was a shame to have missed out on this species). My room looked out towards Aonach Mor; I felt instantly at home in this hunting lodge, and spent the evening browsing moth guides and talking to David about his experience watching reptiles (he had self-found a dead puff adder and viperine snake in Epping Forest!).

 

[Paul Collins]

From this point on, given the wildlife-focussed nature of these two days, my posts will be written and split according to single sites and activities, not covering entire days. This first post will concentrate on the black grouse lek, near Fort William.

Day 6 - Thursday 30th May - Black Grouse Lek

I only caught Jon Mercer briefly last night as he was heading to bed and my friends who had given me a lift stayed around a while for drinks and to enjoy the views. He got me long enough though to ask whether I'd be interested in joining him and David, the only other guest there, for an early morning black grouse lek - of course I would, wouldn't miss it for the world, although it did mean getting up at 4am!

Not as difficult as it sounds, as sunlight poured through my room, a much nicer natural alarm than the one which my mobile phone provides. Into the minibus, we drove the 7 miles to Fort William and slightly beyond, to a quiet spot in the hills. I can't remember the name of the area, but I'm not sure I'd be able to disclose it here anyway; best contacting Jon if this is something you'd like to investigate. This was his last trip of the year, as the lek is in its final legs, although it is common to find leks elsewhere throughout the year. Looking out for deer, I picked up just a single roe deer by the River Spean.

Shortly we had found our first black grouse, three birds which as soon as Jon switched off the engine took off into the air and towards the forests. However, not to despair as three other birds were strutting in the field nearby. They were much closer than I had expected, perhaps 20 yards away and easily picked up with my long lens. I have never seen a black grouse lek (or as they're more commonly known here, blackcock), but had seen one up a tree a couple of years ago in the Galloway Night Sky Park in Dumfries and Galloway. It was fascinating to hear their bubbling call, and to see a little bit of action between the males - their white tail feathers fluffing up like a fluffy hot water bottle inflating with water; black wings and tail curving round in a coathanger kind of shape; their red 'eyebrows' very distinctive in the low light. A couple tried to charge, but unfortunately our view was obscured by a tuft of grass, and they quickly gave up. Clearly we had caught the last of the lek, as the males didn't seem particularly interested in each other.



I was curious as to why, among the 6 male birds we had seen, there were no females. Was it common to see blackcock lekking without females? Jon replied that no one really knew why - perhaps the sound of their bubbling call carried far enough to "excite" females, an "aural pheromone" so to speak in my opinion. Or perhaps it was a pre-mating ritual, a way of establishing hierarchy (who has "first dibs" on a female) prior to sexual activity. Whatever the reason, I was interested to see these males feeding in apparent harmony, only to suddenly kick up a fuss and cluck at each other, as if it was all just a bit of fun and games, rough and tumble, and not something which effectively had impact on their chances to mate.



As the lek calmed down, I glimpsed a bird of prey - a hen harrier, as my poor photo later showed - swoop between trees. A meadow pipit fearlessly approached one of the grouse. An excellent view of a calling cuckoo which flung itself across the road as we headed off was a wonderful way to end the morning.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 6 - cont. - Fort William and Glen Gyle Trail

Little did I know Jon had another surprise in store for us. By 6.30 we were back in Fort William, and rather than sticking to the main road alongside Loch Linnhe, he pulled up and parked beside a warehouse. Breaking the air of mystery, he told us we should be able to find otters on the loch and along the River Lochy, and potentially osprey here too.

Around the front of the warehouse, or shed or whatever it was, we had a good holistic view of the river: plenty of red breasted merganser with the odd flatter-headed and less pronouncedly marked goosander among them, some shelduck and mallard, a single grey heron. Very quickly we were alerted to two trails of bubbles moving at a measured speed along the water surface - no doubt otters. Dark chocolate brown heads surfaced, a couple of ears, and at one moment a paw scratching a nose. Absolutely lovely: my first otters in the UK, and a very good view, right in the middle of Fort William.





We followed the pair a little along the river, but a dog walker seemed to have disturbed them - or at least his presence distracted us long enough for us to lose sight of the otters. We continued to the head of the Glen Gyle Trail, a pathway which meanders through thin patches of woodland, grassy field, reedbed and alongside river, stream and loch. We expected many warblers, hirundines and hopefully deer. Into the forest, we found numerous willow warblers in full voice, a single blackcap on top of a birch tree, and more pleasingly a male whitethroat, also singing. From higher up in the trees, near the football fields, there were several redpolls and siskins; these proved to be generally = elusive however, so knowing their songs was advantageous.

Looking out over an open patch of longer grass, towards the housing estate, in search for a roe deer, I easily spotted a reed bunting on a telegraph wire, a nice patch tick for Jon. Seconds later, we heard a chirruping sound, a grasshopper warbler, a common enough yet excellent find here. We saw it fly off, but on such a fleeting sighting alone I wouldn't have been able to confidently confirm that ID.

On the river, plenty of nesting sand martins - again, great to think you get these right in the middle of Fort William; and furthermore, just how peaceful the trail was, even when the dog walkers started to emerge. It was time to head back for English Breakfast at the Lodge, but we had time to swing by a ring of conifers, not getting the spotted flycatcher which Jon had hoped for, but instead a nevertheless endearing treecreeper whirling up a tree.

From the car, a buzzard with some roadkill, and finally a roe deer on the rugby cum cricket pitch (there's only one, so this description isn't as vague as it sounds). Turning into the lodge, Jon sighted a male bullfinch, and during breakfast, we had a female great spotted woodpecker (without the red head) and 2 siskins (keep forgetting how small these birds are!) on the feeders.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 6 - cont. - Chia Aig and Witch's Pool, towards Clune

Next stop for the day: Chia Aig, also known locally among pteridologists (that's fern scientist to you and me) as the "Atlantic Rainforest". Not without a quick stop off at Loch Lochy's edge to look for ospreys, where we observed a female looking fantastic on her nest in the sun. The male paid a brief visit, and the female reshuffled her wings, giving us a slightly better view of her head markings. A few red breasted mergansers on the loch, and several chiffchaffs calling in the forest.

Having another scan for deer - red and roe are in the area, as are the sika deer, a common pest in these areas - Jon told us about the Kelpies, or water horses: a black mystical horse, with flaming manes and scarlet eyes, which allegedly live under water and attack passers-by. Whilst he was naturally sceptical of the credibility of recent reports (some were as recent as the last couple of years), he admitted to having thought he had seen one whilst taking some people out on a bird tour.



On to Chia Aig, a no less mystical place. The stone walls which run through this wooded area, originally a starting place for walkers heading to the Munros, host a large variety of fern and mosses, and in their own right constitute an SSSI. One of the rarer ferns, the Wilson's Filmy Fern Hymenophyllum wilsonii, can be found here, and this is what Jon wanted us to see.

Now, being primarily a birder, I've never expressed an interest in either ferns or mosses. The concept of an hour looking for ferns wouldn't usually appeal to me, yet the thought that we were going from having tracked black grouse and otters to scouring walls for "just" some ferns made me oddly keen to discover more about this science which I had thus far neglected.



The stretch of wall that we explored is known as The Dark Mile as it used to be largely under a curved overhang of trees, an area steeped in folklore. Now it is closed off to vehicles, so the area is moderately more overgrown in recent years, allowing profuse growth of these ferns. Jon identified a number of fern, none of whose names I can remember as most were in Latin, and quickly pointed out to us the one we were looking for: the Wilson's Filmy. In the long term, I don't think I'd be able to comprehend the fascination which Jon had for this plant, but I can at least admire his broad knowledge of all types of animal families - the fact he can identify mammals and birds by ear and by tracks, and even all sorts of plants, beetles and fungi with instant ease, is a pretty admirable skill which I aspire towards.



A long list of plants included: dog's mercury, a simple plant whose flowers are spiked and don't really look like flowers; dog violet, a very attractive purple flower with five rounded petals shaped like a butterfly; wood sorrel, one of my favourites from the morning, with soft green clover-like leaves and striated white petals (almost like a green-veined white butterfly); wood sage,lovely smelling and nice to taste; butterwort, like a green banana-skin, a pronounced starfish texture and shape; pickly liverwort; elegant lady's smock; and the shoots of early orchids - we were a little early to see their bloom.

Among the smock and sorrel were individuals of orange tip, peacock and small tortoiseshell butterfly, and numerous green veined whites. Two moth species, an individual speckled yellow and many common brown silverline. Finally, two of a longhorn beetle species.





A calling chiffchaff alerted me again back to my primary hobby, and I realised that in what appeared to be a prime habitat for crossbills, that I hadn't even glimpsed or heard a single 'gluup' out of one. I asked Jon whether Scottish or Parrot Crossbills were found around here; his answer was a firm no, that all were common crossbill. Scottish were more common further north, and apparently in greater abundance than previously known: an impressive 60,000 pairs. It seemed odd to me that there was no recorded hybridisation between Scottish and Common, and I began to wonder whether the habitat in Chia Aig, being so concentrated and undisturbed, might provide evolutionary opportunities for its ferns.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 6 - cont. - Allt Mhuic Butterfly Reserve

Just up the road from the fern walls is the Allt Mhuic reserve, an area of grassland, moorland and native woodland, nestling between two conifer plantations on the northern end of Loch Arkaig. Apparently this area is rated by many lepidopterists as one of the top places in the UK for butterfly watching, with rarities such as chequered skipper, pearl bordered fritillary and the argent & sable regularly appearing around this time of year. Our focus was finding the former species, a very small butterfly, about the size of a thumbnail, with brown and yellow markings and which in flight can be easily confused with a bee.



We still kept an eye and ear out for birds and other wildlife, and quickly found some singing siskin, redpoll and an elusive tree pipit calling rather plaintively. The slope near the reserve entrance was covered with a variety of "wort" plants - bogwort, milkwort, grasswort and one or two profuse butterwort. In boggier areas, we found some sweet smelling bog myrtle, which is often used for culinary and medicinal purposes, and in insect repellents; wood anemone, one of the few flowering plants that I could identify on my own; and the tiny sundew, resembling a venus-flytrap.

Soon we were stumbling upon moths too: heath moths being the most common, and easily confused in flight with our target species, the skipper. Plenty more brown silverlines and carpet mothstoo, and a single long horned moth species, with impressively long antennae for its diminutive size. Many bees, usually either white tailed bumblebee or bright orange carders, plentiful beetles, including several stunning green tiger beetles and a single pine weevil. Some iridescent lilac beetles which I failed to identify.



But no sign yet of the chequered skipper. We bumped into another lepidopterist who had had no such luck either; just a few green hairstreaks of note, a nonetheless very pretty butterfly to have on one's list. No success with fritillaries either; perhaps it was still a little early in the season, on the basis of the poor weather that we had had earlier in the year. Bluebells were still at the height of their bloom. Not losing hope, we pressed on; I thought I might have seen one, a flash of black and yellow, but nothing concrete. Our best find was a cocoon, which Jon thinks might belong to an emperor moth, a stunning moth which any lepidopterist would love to see.



At the top of the hill, the ground levelled out into a narrow road with rocky verges. David, being a keen herpetologist, started to turn over rocks in search of adders - it was a good day to look for them. I joined in the hunt, new to this kind of activity, and rather excited about finding something good. Under the first rock - nothing, just a few wood ants; no sign of a nest. I lifted the second rock, and immediately a large snaky shape slithered away into its hole! Carefully I leant in closer, and could just about discern a twitching nose and some whiskers. Immediately weasel sprung to mind, and although neither Jon nor David could make it out fully in the dark hole, they both agreed that it was the most likely candidate. A curious find!

Sloping back down along where there is a waterfall, we began to find dragonflies and other aquatic life: large red damselfly, a common frog in the boggy grass, and a couple of approachable four spotted chasers.



Finally, a more notable butterfly sighting too, in the form of a gorgeous green hairstreak, poorly captured on my camera just before it fluttered off.



We stopped for a quick scan of the hills, remembering that there might be eagles about. Soon a golden eagle revealed itself soaring on thermals along one of the hill ridges, and a second bird in the distance showed itself to be an osprey. Loch Arkaig is used as a salmon and trout fishing ground, so ospreys are becoming a more regular sight around here. Jon told me that Arkaig held the last ever "British" ospreys, just before they went extinct in the UK; now it nests 3 pairs, as well as golden and sea eagles. We finally got our tree pipit too, typically singing from atop a birch, and a stunning male whinchat in scrub - it's been a while since I've seen one of these, so its simple beauty instantly struck me.

Along the waterfall, we got a chance to observe two dippers flying back and forth from their nest, hidden somewhere behind the fall. One of my favourite mountain birds, as I've seen it often on my mountain trips around the UK (and its North American equivalent), and its ability to walk underwater is rather fascinating too.

We looped back down to our van, in the woodland area along the edge of Arkaig, for lunch, seeing another whinchat, tree pipit and two treecreepers. Willow warblers everywhere, just heard. A high pitched whistle-like sound in the bushes alerted Jon's attention, and he realised that it could only be a pair of shrew fighting. That's the kind of detail I love, the ability to identify all these sights and sounds and smells in a blink, to be able to understand the natural surroundings in such vibrancy.

In hindsight, more than the black grouse, the otters and the eagles, what I enjoyed the most from our little outing was looking at things which I had never thought of looking at, and more-so the fact that the three of us, of varying ages (with 60 years between me and David), were bounding over rocks with equal enthusiasm and expectation of what we might find - a viper, a frog, an earwig. I don't think I'll quickly forget the three of us peering down at a wood ant nest, Jon squatting down explaining their mating behaviour (he used to be a professor of animal breeding at the University of Edinburgh) whilst David prodded the nest's centre with his walking stick to prompt the release of formic acid, a childlike twinkle in his eyes.

 

[RichC]

Fascinating read. Thank you for taking the time to scribe such detail.

 

[Paul Collins]

Thank you Rich, glad you're enjoying it, although I'm sure you must get similar stuff up in Skye! The rest shall be up soon; hopefully will inspire someone else to visit these areas.

 

[Paul Collins]

Day 6 - cont. - Loch Arkaig and Loch Lochy Forest

The remainder of our day-out, which had really made me feel like a child again and yet at the same time like a maturing all-round naturalist, was concentrated around the forests of the Lochs Lochy and Arkaig. Driving back the way we came towards the fern and lichen forests, I spotted the third whinchat of the day by the roadside, and a spotted flycatcher perched on someone's chimney. It was whilst I attempted to point this out to Jon that he then saw a herd of half a dozen red deer behind said house, in good viewable range. We drove a little closer, noticing that one of them had only one antler.



Red deer apparently commonly interbreed with sikas, meaning that there are very few pure-bred reds on the mainland, and that your best chance of seeing pure-breds is on the islands, such as on Rhum. I couldn't see any noticeable difference, but perhaps the differences are only slight on a physical level.



Not much further along, we found another larger herd of 9, beyond some sheep and cattle. The road took us deep into Loch Lochy forest, a beautiful verdant area of birch and larch trees; one could almost forget that they were in Scotland, the woods being so lush and sunlit. We drove past the home of David Whitaker, wildlife photographer, whose photos are really worth a look (http://www.highlandwildlifephotography.com/index.html), and whose home sits just on the loch edge, among these beautiful trees. A perfect spot to look out for divers and martens, and we certainly hoped at least to see some of the former here today.



Really very little, as the afternoon heat made everything weary, other than two more red deer with pheasants, some red breasted mergansers on the loch, and siskins in the trees. David was a little slow behind, so Jon suggested that I walk a bit further to see what success I'd have, whilst they'd return to the van and come and meet me. The walk through sweet gorse was unproductive and rather soporific, and by the time I reached the minibus, having only seen a coal tit on lichen (and an astonishing view though, about 2 feet from me), I promptly fell asleep.