It's just one of those days

Had a sleep in this morning so started at 6:30. There was a faint mist over the golf course and the sea that hampered visibility quite a bit. First round was not what had been expected and with every half hour following, the day slowly progressed. A change in the weather caused the fog to thicken and spread out, pushing the migrating Blue Tits down. We hoped for some good amounts but unfortunately had to settle for a day total of 36, very disappointing. A Tree Sparrow was a nice practice on ageing though.

Absolutely no migration of Common Buzzards in the air and only 3400 Chafflings made it a very dull day. The choice was easily made to go and sleep a bit at noon, a decision I would live to regret. I was halfway down to dreamland when I heard a loud scream outside, since the people that were outside kid around a lot I didn't think that much of it at first but a split second later I heard a second thing: 'Örn'. The first thing that came to mind was that, another, Short-toed Eagle (Ormörn) was coming in from either Ljungen or Kanalen but again a split second later I realised that it was Andreas who was shouting and that the word 'Vråk' could clearly be discerned, I jumped out of my bed, grabbed scope and bins and ran down the stairs and outside the door. Uphill were a handful happy but really confused looking birders, the confirmation came, an Örnvråk had just passed. Long-legged Buzzard! I ran to my bike and started to cycle to Kolabacken, the next point in line where it'll surely pass. On the way there I was thinking that it was so weird that with so few Buzzards migrating, a large soaring bird would actually show up. This fact should've made me realize that this bird wouldn't migrate and would return inland sooner or later, but it didn't and I continued to Kolabacken. With Andre and Arvid in my wake I arrived at Kolabacken only to find Nils Kjellén shout: ''It turned back, go to the heath!!''. I threw my bike on the ground and jumped into the car with Andre and Arvid, to Ljungen! Arriving at the heath we found a completely relaxed group of birders that didn't have the slightest clue what had just passed them, a subtle shout ''Örnvråk!'' didn't do the trick so I called out the Dutch name: ''Arendbuizerd!''. Again very little response, we got desperate. A couple of thermals with raptors had zilk unusual species though there was a Black Kite (that we all realized we saw about one hour after we actually saw it) in one of the thermals. A big bird soaring solely in the distance was picked up and deemed worthy of the predicate 'probably THE bird' but vanished again behind the trees. Now finally people started to show some interest in 3 boys that were looking in a completely different direction than they were. 'Where is it?' and 'What did you say you saw?' were the two main questions, we told the story and jumped into the car again and drove to the Fågelstation. Lying on my back on the backseat of the car I had a clear view on three sides of the car and after about 700m from Ljungen I looked through the rearview window and saw 3 birds soaring, a millionth of a second later I shouted 'It's behind us, stop the car, NOW!!'. All too slow the car pulled over and Andre, Arvid and me jumped out shouting: It is it, it is it! We jumped up and down like children while grinning hysterically. A car full of birders, including David Erterius, came dashing by and saw the bird as well. We returned to Ljungen to spread the good word and found the crowd, again, not interested. Björn Malmhagen had picked up the bird as well and we could see it beautifully as it made its way north. It came back several times, soaring quite low in the thermals. After a failed attempt to pick it up on the east side of Skånör we went back to the Fågelstation where we'd enjoyed the tale of how it was seen and, especially, how it returned 3 times! Straight over the station, having the pictures in mind, we should've stayed there. Nevertheless it was a stunning 2nd calendar year bird that made us realize anything is possible, even on the days you least expect it.

A feast started with bbq-ed sausages and hamburgers for everyone, a very enjoyable evening!

Picture by David Erterius

Swewatch

Anyone who knows me only the slightest bit knows that whenever there is a seawatch at hand, I'm in. Therefore, the minute that the boys here started to get anxious about Wednesdays winds there was no doubt that I would go with. Ringing was sure to be cancelled due to winds over 13 m/s and so I found myself in the car with Kaj, Sissel and David. We picked up another birder, Mattias Ullman, in Malmö and drove to Kattvik on the southwest side of the Bay of Laholm.
Immediately it was apparent that I had miscalculated a bit. Initially I suspected the bay to be really small and hence the shearwaters and other goodies would be well visible all the time, I was wrong. Had I been looking onto a map I could've seen that the bay is in fact bigger than the whole Falsterbo peninsula! A bit of a shock. Anyhew, seawatching began and I took a view at about 11 o'clock (these digits are based on seeing yourself as the middlepoint of a clock with 12 o'clock being right ahead) like what I was used to in Holland. Strange was it then when the first bird was picked up flying to the right at about 1 o'clock, an Arctic Skua at about 4km distance. Had I missed this? It could easily be the case since it was so far away and was flying reasonably low on the surface of the water, I continued watching at 11 o'clock. About an hour later David shouted 'Mindre Lira!' (Manx Shearwater). I looked up and to my surprise saw his scope turned towards the inner parts of the bay at about 3 o'clock! What the.... The bird passed close at 700m and was visible from east to west. Getting curious about 'what the deal' was here I asked Kaj about whether you search for a bird or just keep one position in your scope. To my surprise he indeed said that you look for the birds, totally different than in Holland!

The first time I ever went seawatching, it was at Camperduin, I learned from the counter at that moment (I believe it was Maarten Platteeuw) that it was best to keep your telescope fixed on 1 particular point instead of continuously scanning the water. This technique did fine at all places I seawatched so far as long as there was even a bit of migration. As soon as there were very little birds to be found, you'd scan and find them yourself instead of letting them fly into your scope view.

At this point I knew that this wasn't going to be a 'good' day to Dutch standards but it would be hard work all day. Fulmars and Great Skuas popped up at 11 o'clock and would fly either into the bay or fast SW, other birds would appear at around 12-1 o'clock and would fly along the horizon to the east or west, coming not a hint closer. Getting up at 4:30 every morning is tiring and so I'm not really proud of my next move; I slept in the back of the car, only occasionally waking up by the loud yell of someone and then seeing the bird they were yelling about before again falling into a deep comatose sleep. To my shame in the end I actually saw all good things with 3 1cy Long-tailed Skuas and a 1cy Sabine's Gull being the best.