As I mentioned in my post this morning, I had just spent some time watching an elusive Wryneck at Portland in Dorset before heading back to the Observatory. I found myself sitting in the Observatory garden with Dave Morton and Martin Cabe, enjoying a brew and chatting about the day's birding. We were also planning to get our moth traps out that night, as the winds were turning south-easterly and everything looked really good for a decent night of migration.
Then Dave mentioned something that had caught his attention. A European Nightjar in Malta had recently been identified as an individual of the East Asian subspecies plumipes. Even more interestingly, this raised the significant possibility that Britain's only accepted record of Egyptian Nightjar from Dorset in June 1984 could actually have been this form of European Nightjar.
Well, that got us talking. We sat there discussing the Egyptian Nightjar, the old Dorset record, and just how incredible it would be to see one in Britain again. Then, completely out of the blue, Dan Pointon texted me.
“Egyptian Nightjar, Pool of Virkie, Shetland!” HOLY SH*T.We had literally just been sitting there talking about the species, and now an Egyptian Nightjar had just been found in Britain. Utter madness!
The bird had originally been flushed from Roger Riddington's driveway as he was leaving his house. It then disappeared for about an hour before being relocated to the beach rocks next to his house. That was enough for me. Panic immediately set in. I went straight onto the Loganair website, booked a flight, said my goodbyes, and I was off, heading north!
The Nightjar stayed there all afternoon, roosting, before eventually flying west at around 10:30pm and disappearing from view. I knew this was always going to be the problem; a bird like this wasn't going to hang around forever, and the chances of it returning to exactly the same roosting spot seemed pretty remote. But there was no way I wasn't going. This was a total blocker. I simply had to go.
Once home, I managed to get my head down for a few hours, knowing my flight from Glasgow wasn't until 10:00am the following morning. At 3:00 am, I left Holmes Chapel and met up with Dan Pointon at Lymm Services in Warrington. I jumped in his car, and we headed north towards Glasgow. As we travelled north, dawn started breaking over the mountains of the Lake District, and then the news came through: the bird was still there. Even better, it had returned to the beach, just a few metres from where it had been the previous evening, and was sitting there roosting. Unbelievable! The euphoria in the car was something else. All we needed now was for it to stay there until we arrived.
The news was quickly passed around to everyone else heading north, with birders travelling from all over the country to try and connect with this incredible bird. The forecast for Shetland was awful: torrential rain and strong winds. For once, we were praying for terrible weather! We just wanted that bird to stay put.
Finally, Shetland. The flight went really well, and as we approached the islands, the excitement was building. Shetland's finest, Phil Harris, Matt Willmott, Roger Riddington, and Paul Harvey, were keeping an eye on the bird for us, and then came the news we desperately wanted: it was still there. We landed in absolutely atrocious weather. Driving rain and strong winds were sweeping across Shetland, but there was no hanging around. Paul Harvey picked me, Dan, and Fred Fearne up, and we headed straight for the bird.
When we arrived, Phil Harris and Matt Willmott already had the telescope on it for us. A massive thank you to both of them. They had been standing out there in the driving rain and wind, absolutely soaked through, making sure the bird was still there for everyone arriving. And then I looked through the scope.
There it was. Egyptian Nightjar. What a bird!
(c)Simon King
(c)Ash Howe
The bird was just sitting on the beach rocks and had even worked its way underneath a boulder to shelter from the rain. By now, everyone had arrived. Certain birds on the British List have almost mythical status, and the Egyptian Nightjar has always been one of them. It is one of those species you talk about, dream about, and wonder whether you'll ever actually see in Britain. And somehow, unbelievably, we were all standing there together watching one.
(C) Adrian Webb
Previous SightingsThe first British record dates all the way back to 23 June 1883, when a bird was shot at Thieves Wood near Mansfield in Nottinghamshire. Gamekeeper Albert Spinks collected it, and it eventually joined the collection of Joseph Whitaker, now widely regarded as the “Father of Nottinghamshire Ornithology”. That bird became a famous part of Nottinghamshire's birding history.
The Egyptian Nightjar is in the Mansfield Library
Then, over 100 years later, came the Dorset bird.
On 10 June 1984, an Egyptian Nightjar was seen by a single observer at Portland Bill. For decades, it was accepted as Britain's second record, but now, following the identification of the plumipes European Nightjar in Malta, there are questions about whether that Dorset bird really was an Egyptian Nightjar at all.
After many an hour watching the bird, we eventually had to leave to get the Northlink ferry home. I had some tea on the boat and a celebratory pint with the lads and watched the sun go down after an epic trip.
I then slept till I was woken in the morning as the boat docked in Aberdeen. A bus back to Glasgow followed, and I was home by 5.00pm. What a twitch, and one that I'll always remember!
