Blackburnian!

There are many species on the British List that are beautiful birds in their own right. But some rarities attain near-mythical status because they have occurred before, several times, but have never been twitchable. Some are both. Up until earlier this year, Eleonora’s Falcon was one of these, and another was Blackburnian Warbler. These two also, oddly, share the distinction of being among a small number of eponymous species named after a woman – in the case of Blackburnian Warbler it is Anna Blackburne (1726–1793), a pioneering English naturalist who corresponded with Linnaeus and Pallas (among others) about describing and classifying new specimens from the New World.

Just three previous records of this most stunning of American warblers had been seen by maybe 30 observers in total: one on Skomer in 1961, identified after the fact from a painting done by one of only three observers; one on Fair Isle in 1988 that was available only to those on the island for a small part of one day; and a three-day bird on St Kilda in 2009 that no-one off that remote island knew about before its departure. The Fair Isle bird was found by Bristol birder Jack Wilmott, who has rejoiced in the nickname ‘Blackburnian Jack’ in local birding circles for over three decades. So, a near-mythical, extraordinarily beautiful bird, speculated about by British (and no doubt Irish) birders heading into every autumn for years, wondering whether ‘this year’ will be the year it finally falls.

And so to 13 October 2022. Paul C was booked on a boat to try to twitch a Tennessee Warbler seen the day before on Skokholm (he sat out the Covid-ridden year of 2020, and so missed the unblocking of that also near-mythical, but less striking, species on Shetland that autumn). No sign, so the boat was cancelled and he headed back to Clevedon. Meanwhile, a 1st-for-Britain moth, Southern Brindled Green, had been trapped overnight at Portland Obs, so we made plans to go down to see that. Paul was just 10 minutes from picking me up at my house when all hell broke loose – the pager screamed ‘Blackburnian Warbler on Bryher’. The first real ‘drop everything’ bird on Scilly for some years. I rapidly booked us flights on the best (indeed only) option available that day, the last flight out to St Mary’s from Land’s End, grabbed my overnight bag already packed and ready, and legged it out the door to jump in Paul’s car.

We made good time and arrived at St Just airfield at 4.15pm and checked in. Good news – the flight would be taking off earlier than scheduled, by about 20 minutes. I had been trying to organise a taxi to the quay, a boat to Bryher, and overnight accommodation on the way down – well, two out of three ain’t bad, as the song says. Our taxi was waiting for us, and when we arrived on the quay looking for a St Mary’s Association boat (Joe Pender had been very helpful on the way down, but the earliest boat was likely to be 6pm, heading out to pick up birders already there), we found a Tresco Boat Services jet boat already there and just about to leave, with two spaces on it! The logistics had worked out better than we could have possibly hoped – all it needed now was for the bird to play ball.

It didn’t. We arrived on site in the Popplestone Fields before 6pm, but the bird was last seen that evening at 5.40pm, despite the two of us staying till dark – we’d missed it by about 10 minutes! And no way off Bryher, even if we’d wanted to leave the island, and no accommodation available either. So, after a wander through the fields in the dark and a pint at the Fraggle Rock, we found the entrance hall to the island church and settled down for a less than comfortable night. Good thing we were under cover – it pissed it down for over 3 hours during the night.

We were out again early morning, on site at 7am and waiting for birding light. At about 7.50 am I was in the right-hand of the two fields it had favoured the previous day when I saw a small bird fly across from one hedge to another, and called Paul over – it certainly had looked ‘interesting’. About a minute later, Paul said ‘I’ve got it’. A quick view at first, but conclusive – the Blackburnian had stuck overnight! Paul let out a huge roar of delight and relief, then hurried to put the no doubt very welcome early news out for the hundreds of birders on their way, while I got further views of the bird. 

Another set of views about 20 minutes later as it worked along the hedge in the left-hand field were simply breathtaking, and only the two of us there to enjoy them. John Judge, the finder, turned up, then the early boatload from St Mary’s – we passed on all our gen and waited until they had all seen it, then headed off to Olivia’s Café for breakfast, passing the keenest of the day’s mainland twitchers as we left. After breakfast Paul headed back to the bird to get some more photos in better light (he succeeded very well, as you can see from his pics reproduced here), while I stayed at the café charging my phone and enjoying another pot of tea, then pottered around near the quay looking for birds without finding anything of note.

Three boatloads of birders arrived after the Scillonian docked, with many anxious faces I recognised disembarking and starting the yomp across to the bird. The Blackburnian continued to show well, and on the journey back that evening the Scillonian was packed with very happy birders indeed. We got a lift from Neil Alford back to St Just and a helpful cleaner let us into the locked car park to start the journey home. We’d only got to Penzance when Paul discovered he’d left his phone at St Just. Back we went - it was all locked up again by then, but we managed to get it back. Then home for just after midnight for me.

What a stunning, stunning bird!