Gyr!

Gyr Falcon is a real birders’ bird – a white ghost, iconic, spectacular, and much-wanted. That they are rare in Britain and often turn up in wild, remote places (often Scottish islands) only adds to their allure – that they are so often single brief sightings also makes them a frustrating bird to try and add to your list. Many birders saw the one at Berry Head in Devon back in 1986, but a repeat in the southwest seemed unlikely. Then, in the mid-1990s there was a run of records of Gyr in spring along the Cornish coast – perhaps just one or two returning birds that had wintered further south than usual – but all were brief and resisted any attempts to twitch them (I know, I tried).

So it came as a bit of a shock when news came through on 6 April 1998 that a Gyr had been seen at Wembury, also South Devon (incidentally, found by the same birder, Nick Ward, who found the Berry Head bird)! Sat at my desk at work, I started shaking when I saw the news on the pager, and was told by a work colleague that I had gone white as a sheet. An extreme reaction, sure, but I had been chasing Gyrs around for a while and, worse, I had been at Wembury only the day before to see a sub-adult Long-tailed Skua that had taken up temporary residence in the fields below the naval gunnery school, HMS Cambridge.  Why couldn’t the Gyr have been there yesterday?

OK, time to get my act together. The afternoon was quickly booked off, and I headed down there. I remember little about the journey except for some roadworks on Haldon Hill that were a real pain. A  small number of birders were there mooching around and scanning, but no further sign. After a couple of hours of this I confess I thought it was just going to be another brief bird and another dip, so late afternoon I actually gave up and started driving back home. Schoolboy error, of course – I had just reached the blasted roadworks again when the news came through that it had been relocated on the Great Mew Stone, about a kilometre offshore from Wembury. U-ey!

Wembury: towards the Great Mew Stone by Martin Bodman /Wikimedia Commons

Thankfully the bird was still there when I got back, but at horrendous range – a white, falcon-shaped blob just to the left of the very top of the Mew Stone. There were still only maybe about 30–40 birders there, and most of us were struggling to get a tickable view, even in what was very good evening light. However, salvation was on hand in the form of Bill Urwin with a 72´ lens on his scope and another guy with a Questar – they were very popular.

I headed home that evening happy that I had, at last, seen a Gyr and it was on my list. I confess, though, that when another opportunity arose a couple of years later at Carn Gloose in Cornwall, I didn’t hesitate to head down there, and ended up with much better views than those of the famous dot on the Mew Stone.