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‘Fingers crossed for easterly winds….’ said the advert for the trip to Holy Island and all the auspices looked promising: northeasterly winds on the Thursday prior to the trip had deposited Richard’s Pipits (plural), Barred Warbler, Siberian Stonechat, Yellow-browed Warbler and Wryneck; on the following day a Common Rosefinch was added to the list; and the morning forecast was for fog which would hopefully keep the migrants grounded. Holy Island’s warden, Phil Davey, met us at The Snook to lead us to the tree where the Common Rosefinch was sitting. Unfortunately, Snook Cottage’s holiday residents had turned up and the kids had already been up the tree, the skies had cleared and the light wind had taken a northwesterly direction. Despite these setbacks we searched the other trees round the cottage just in case and found a Blackcap, a Spotted Flycatcher, a Robin and two Goldcrests. Someone suggested that the trees in the distance could have been where the Rosefinch had fled to, so – risking the dangerously-clinging Pirri Pirri burs – we went cross-country to investigate. The warden pointed out pretty pink Seaside Centaury flowers, stands of white Grass of Parnassus, purple Viper’s Bugloss and Scarlet Pimpernel on the way. Suddenly Tommy, the trip photographer, veered towards a lone bush so, thinking he was aiming his lens at the Rosefinch, all remaining 19 of us homed in on the same bush. A Willow Warbler popped out; Tommy remained steadfast. After some time the only thing moving near the bush was Tommy breathing in and out so the group drifted off to other possible bushes and trees among the dunes. It was only much later that we found out that Tommy had, in fact, been photographing a flower! The search went on and the first autumn Redwing was seen, then a Wheatear. The Meadow Pipits and Linnets showed well but there was no sign of the Rosefinch. We resorted to comfort-eating, seeing as it was lunchtime. There were still the Richard’s Pipits to look forward to – they had been in the same field since Thursday. But this was Saturday. Whilst the Pipits were being elusive we scanned the surrounding fences and walls which yielded a Great Spotted Woodpecker. 20-odd Skylarks messed about overhead and – a sign of our losing concentration perhaps – Gannets were seen in the distance. Tommy meanwhile had crawled up to menace another piece of vegetation which this time contained birds – a nice male Redstart and another Spotted Flycatcher. It was decision time. Roy, being a most democratic leader, allowed us to make our own choice of what to do next. We could either stay put and hope the Richard’s Pipits showed up, or follow him to a nearby headland to seawatch, or push on down the Straight Lonnen to the Yellow-browed Warbler in the Churchyard. So there was a three way split – the majority laboured up the slope to the headland, two stayed conservatively put and two others felt liberal enough to try for the Yellow-browed Warbler. The seawatch was, given the calm conditions, fairly productive: a dark phase Arctic Skua, Gannets fishing, a Red-throated Diver, Red-breasted Merganser, Guillemots, a Kittiwake, Eider Ducks and very distant Terns. However, the highlight was a new species of mammal discovered by the group: the Lindisfarne Fishing Stoat complete with prey glinting in its mouth. After some time sunbathing, sorry birdwatching (typing error), I personally had been unable to locate the Richard’s Pipits, but another member of the group reported later that they had seen two on the wall. I caught up with another of the group and, at a puddle on the Straight Lonnen, we had the most unusual sighting of a Garden Warbler on the ground drinking water. Not long afterwards a Great Spotted Woodpecker did likewise. The Churchyard sycamores were alive with Willow Warblers and Chaffinches but not the Yellow-browed Warbler. Rumour had it that it was in the Vicar’s Garden so we headed off down there. Colin Auld had, however, already sighted it about half an hour previously. He pointed to some Willows where it had been, but there was now only a Willow Warbler. Sceptically we continued to look. A Redwing lurked in the hedge, a Dunnock called and a Wren flitted about. Then suddenly the Yellow-browed Warbler called several times. Unfortunately, it was in a highly inaccessible area at the bottom of the garden, well concealed by mounds of Old Man’s Beard, Hawthorn and more Sycamores. The main group had democratically split again. One lot kept to the Straight Lonnen and the splinter group took the coast path. Stopping by a hide overlooking a pool a Pied Flycatcher was seen. The Yellow-browed kept calling tantalisingly but at 4p.m. we had to leave without seeing it, as we needed to get off Holy Island before it actually became an island. We quickly admired the view of Lindisfarne Castle atop the Whin Sill outcrop and headed back to the Causeway. From a safe vantage point we watched the tide bring in hordes of Curlew, Redshank and Dunlin. 2500 Pale-bellied Brent Geese shifted position as the tide encroached and the gang of Grey Seals which had been lazing on a sandbank slipped into the water. Both Black- and Bar-tailed Godwits fed on the fast disappearing shore’s edge, Eider ducks swam up the tidal channel and, as a Peregrine caused a magnificent flypast of waders, a Ruff was spotted. The sight of all these common birds en masse more than made up for missing the rarer birds and, suitably impressed, we headed off to the Turkish restaurant in Morpeth for fish ’n’ chips (what else?). It was a most enjoyable day amongst pleasant company. Special thanks to Phil Davey for his botanical knowledge and taking us to the (unfortunately historical) birding sites on Holy Island, to Jane for teaching me indispensable computer knowledge (it was a long journey back!), to our driver for taking us, but most of all thanks to Roy Atkins for running such a well-organised trip in such an efficient yet unassuming way. Jean Roberts
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