Spring birding in Britain often begins with anticipation rather than certainty, but occasionally a single phone call changes everything. On 14 April, that call came from Higgo, my good friend on the Isles of Scilly, with news that a Great Blue Heron had been found on St Mary’s. Discovered by Ash Fisher, it represented only the second record of the species for the UK.
For me, the moment carried a strong sense of unfinished business. Ash had also been responsible for the first British record, again on Scilly, when a juvenile Great Blue Heron was found at Lower Moors, St Mary’s, on 7 December 2007, during a period of strong westerly storms. That bird lingered only briefly and was seen by a fortunate few island residents. I had not been among them.
I travelled through the night to Penzance, catching the Scillonian the following morning. A full day spent walking St Mary’s proved tantalisingly close. I narrowly missed the bird in Holy Vale, and later that afternoon, three or four birders watched it fly off. Despite staying overnight and covering the island again the next day, there was no further sign.
Then came the blow. On my return to Penzance that evening, news broke that the heron had been refound on Bryher, a classic Scillonian twist, and a real kick in the teeth.
Round two began on Sunday night, leaving Cheshire with Phil Woollen to once again catch the first Scillonian on Monday morning. This crossing could not have been more different: flat calm, brilliant sunshine, mugs of tea, and familiar conversations with old friends.
On arrival at St Mary’s, we transferred straight onto an inter-island boat bound for Bryher. Higgo’s message that the heron was still present lifted spirits further, though a slight complication arose when the boatman announced that we’d need to be ferried ashore by dinghy and wade the final few yards.
It was worth every soggy step.
Higgo was waiting on the beach, and after a brisk walk, we reached the Hell Bay Hotel, where the Great Blue Heron was fishing calmly on the Great Pool. Towering, slate-blue, and unmistakably American, it fed methodically, completely at ease, an astonishing sight in a Scillonian landscape.
Eventually, hunger drew us away, and we headed up to the Vine Café for tea and sandwiches. With time to spare before the 15:30 pick-up, we explored the island further, enjoying the scenery and fitting in some casual birding.
We also sought out one of Bryher’s botanical specialities: the Dwarf Pansy, a minute and exceptionally rare plant with only two UK sites, both on the Isles of Scilly. The plants were present, tiny and easily overlooked, but deeply satisfying to see.
The Hoopoe Higgo had found the previous day, however, remained elusive.
A rising tide spared us another wade, and back at the quay we were met by an old friend, Joe Pender’s boat, Sapphire, for the return to St Mary’s. Back aboard the Scillonian, pasty and tea in hand, it was finally time to relax.
The journey home passed quickly, and I was back in Cheshire in just under six hours, falling into bed after another 25-hour epic—exhausted, but content.
