Hodbarrow

Panic! I couldn't see what had spooked these black-headed gulls and Sandwich terns

With the passing of the heatwave I thought I'd best make an effort at picking up last week's itinerary. So I used up one of my Delay Repay compo tickets and got the trains to Millom for a visit to Hodbarrow. 

I had to get the busiest train of the day into Manchester so I could catch the Windermere train that connects with the Corkicle train at Lancaster, this being the train that stops at Millom. (It's still rail replacement buses from Corkicle to Whitehaven.) After this one the next connection less than an hour is late afternoon, which is one reason why I've been putting it off. The over reason is that the busiest train of the day into Manchester is also the one that only has half the number of carriages of the trains running the rest of the day. It must have been like one of Dante's circles last week.

Grange-over-sands Station 

Anyway… I got the Windermere train, got the Corkicle train and got to Millom. Along the way I noticed three spoonbills fast asleep opposite the Eric Morecambe Hide at Leighton Moss (they'd moved on on the way back); very little on the salt marshes of Morecambe Bay that wasn't a jackdaw, a carrion crow or a little egret; a few eiders by the viaduct over the Leven; and an osprey back at the nest by the track on Arnaby Moss (possibly the same one was sat on the nest on the way back). And the scenery, as always, was quite a bit better than pretty good.

At Kirkby-in-Furness Station

It felt like next to no time between getting off the train and arriving at Hodbarrow. Herring gulls, lesser black-backs and jackdaws sat on chimneys and rooftops and the presence of a pint-sized herring gull chick loudly begging on a house's pitched roof led me to wonder how it didn't roll down into the gutter when it was an egg.

Little egrets and cormorants 

Approaching the entrance to Hodbarrow I became aware of a peculiar creaking noise in the distance, like fairground machinery badly in need of lubrication. I wondered if there was a Summertime Seaside Spectacular happening at the holiday home haven but it became apparent it was coming from the nature reserve. In fact, it was the noise of the colony of little egrets at the landward side of the lagoon. The cormorants nesting beside them had their own repertoire of croaks and grunts but they were drowned out by the creaks and groans of the egrets.

A small raft of herring gulls loafed on this corner of the lagoon and mute swans cruised over on the other side. The colony of terns and black-headed gulls is hidden from view here, just hinted at by small white figures flying about in the distance.

Common blue damselfly 

The path from the entrance through the trees was fairly quiet. Blackbirds sang, chiffchaffs squeaked and goldfinches twittered about. A blackcap singing by the entrance on Maingate Road was the only one I heard. A way in, perhaps a hundred yards after the car park, a garden warbler in deep cover was in a hurry to get its song finished. The wayside sparked with common blue damselflies, red admirals sunned themselves on the path and a confusion of bees and hoverflies busied themselves among the vetches and brambles.

Black Combe from Hodbarrow 

A stiff, cool breeze asserted itself as I reached the more open country. The heathland was thick with bracken, bedstraw and rosebay, the areas of thinner soil carpeted with thymes, horseshoe vetch and restharrow. Sand martins flashed by at knee height, rising only to turn and swoop back for a fresh run over the ground. A couple of house martins flew higher, tending to skim over the trees and bushes rather than fly between them. Meadow browns and ringlets fluttered through the grasses and some vividly fresh painted ladies continued what has been an excellent year for them. Whitethroats churred and sang from hawthorn bushes and a couple of willow warblers sang from patches of scrub. And I started to hear Sandwich terns.

Duddon Estuary 

Hodbarrow Lagoon

I had come late to the party. Not many terns were commuting from the Duddon Estuary to the colony, and most of they common terns. The Sandwich terns passing over the sea wall were carrying their loads of sand eels at a leisurely pace, the common terns a bit more hurried. High overhead a few juvenile terns noisily chased after their parents out into the estuary.

The seabird colony on the gravel banks

A raft of Canada geese cruised about this corner of the lagoon. Eiders drifted over to join the dozens loafing on the edges of the gravel banks. A couple of bar-headed geese floated just offshore. There was a lazy high Summer feeling to the whole scene despite the cool wind.

Sandwich terns 

I joined the hide and had a look round. There seemed to be a lot fewer Sandwich terns than last year and they were further away than usual, to the right, from the hide. The youngsters I could see were nearly full-grown, it could be that I'd missed a lot that have moved on. 

The black-headed gulls, as always, were very vocal and were spread across the gravel banks. There weren't many common terns but they made almost as much noise as the gulls. Both were running the full gamut of stages of breeding: some sat on nests, some had chicks begging for food at the nest, some had juvenile birds running after them begging, and a few of the juveniles were capable of flight. Woe betide the wandering juvenile Sandwich terns that got too close to the gulls, they were soon bundled over and sent running back to their flock. Similarly, a couple of young black-headed gulls got a good going over from the common terns and their parents had to intervene and escort them to safety.

Red-breasted mergansers

A raft of red-breasted mergansers, mostly young redheads, bobbed about just offshore, socialising with the eiders, lapwings and shelducks keeping out of the way of the gulls and terns. A ringed plover dashed about between the flocks. Family parties of oystercatchers marched through like they had a free pass.

The nesting common terns kept their distance from each other, and they joined forces to make sure nothing else filled the gaps.

A couple of times a panic ran through the flocks and a cloud of gulls, terns, lapwings and starlings took to the air. Which is how I spotted there were any starlings about. I couldn't see what had caused the commotion and the birds settled back down within a couple of minutes. 

Sandwich terns, a young bird is on the left

All the time I was looking for, and failing to find, any little terns. Looking at the numbers posted on the observations board it looks like not many arrived here and for the second year running they didn't stay to breed, which is a pity. Has it been the weather? Has the habitat of the gravel bank changed? Is it competition from the other gulls and terns? I've no idea, I just hope their fortunes pick up.

Ringlet

I walked back. A small heath fussing about in the grasses on the seaward side of the path wouldn't sit still for the camera, the ringlets on the landward side were more obliging. Chiffchaffs sang in the trees, goldfinches and linnets bounced about the heathland and a handful of swallows had joined the martins.

Common darter
I had to look three times at this one, he's a very flushed shade of red for so early in the season

There were more dragonflies about. Black-tailed skimmers and common darters sunned themselves on the paths and an unidentifiable hawker shot past me and off over the lagoon.

Common darter

I walked back to the station and checked the train times. Even though the train back to Barrow was running late it would connect with the train back to Lancaster. I had a choice: I could hang about for an hour at Barrow or Lancaster waiting for the next train to Manchester or I could spend the best part of an hour at Leighton Moss.

Shoveler

I spent nearly all that time in Lilian's Hide, a Cetti's warbler providing the backing track to the experience. The black-headed gulls had nearly all moved on, just the one pair was sitting on a very late nest. The male's badgering any passing great black-back just seemed to be drawing attention to the nest for future pillage. A crowd of gadwalls had gathered in one corner of the pool, a few mallards and shovelers were scattered about. The drakes were all already well into the moult into eclipse plumage.

Shoveler 

Out over the reedbeds a female marsh harrier rose out of the reeds, flew a lazy circle and settled back whence she came. The great black-backs had a large youngster in the nest. The only things big enough and daft enough to try and rob a great black-back's nest would be a sea eagle or a couple of great black-backs and sure enough the parent at the nest kept a close eye on the couple of great black-backs circling nearby.

It was time to be getting back. I didn't have long to wait for the train and got home without fuss or incident after quite a full day's birdwatching.