Spread your wings on the Isle of Wight

Phoebe Smith goes on a very British safari to seek out the island’s Big(ish) Five

Pink light flushed across the horizon as dusk began to fall. Below my feet the pebbles slid together noisily, while in my hand I clutched a torch, ready to train it on the water. At this late hour on a bank holiday weekend, most visitors to the Isle of Wight are sequestered in pubs, tucking into their evening meals. Not me. I was walking along the water’s edge at Thorness Bay, a two-mile stretch of coast on the north-western corner of the island, completely alone, on the hunt for stingrays.

I hadn’t realised that these winged creatures, normally associated with the warm waters of the Mediterranean, were found in British waters. Then again, I had discovered plenty of peculiar wildlife facts during my mission: to find and photograph the Isle of Wight’s very own Big(ish) Five.

I’d started with the easiest: the red squirrel, and I’d begun early, in the back garden of a woman called Debbie. We were joined by Helen Butler, of the Isle of Wight Red Squirrel Trust, a charity she set up 30 years ago to raise awareness of the rodent’s plight.

“In Britain we have just 140,000 red squirrels – our native species – com- pared with 2.5 million greys, which were introduced by the Victorians,” she explained. “Here on the island we have 3,500 of them.” The reason for the healthy numbers is geography. Separated from the mainland by water, this was a place greys never made it to, so the native species has survived the disease and competition that their mainland cousins encountered.

As Debbie brought us toast and I put my camera down, a flash of red caught my eye. “Their colouring is different,” said Debbie, “but I can tell who they are from their personalities.” I watched as three of them came down to feed.

From there I headed east, where I was to meet wildlife guide Dave Fairlamb and locate my next target: the white-tailed eagle. Our meeting point was a layby by the side of a small but busy road between the inland village of Brading and Bembridge harbour. On one side of the traffic, the rigging of moored boats clinked rhythmically; on the other, marshland stretched to the downs. Once reclaimed land used for farming, it has been under the care of the RSPB since 2001 and is now a birdrich mix of reed beds, snaking waterways and deep lagoons.

“As an apex predator, the eagles were – and still are – persecuted,” explained Dave as he scanned the land through his binoculars. “The last native one was shot in Shetland in 1918, and the last breeding pair were actually on the island in 1780.” I peeked through my telephoto lens and picked out a host of birds, from marsh harriers and egrets to waders and woodpeckers. Then, I spotted a hulking mass of dark feathers on the branch of a dead tree.

“That’s it,” declared Dave. I watched as it opened one of its massive wings – over 3ft in length – revealing a plume of speckled under-feathers. Another flew in to join it.

“This is the pair that seem to have settled here,” whispered Dave. “We’re hopeful they might eventually breed.”

I left Dave to make my way further inland to Newchurch and check in to my accommodation – a safari-style tent. A new offering here on the island from the Caravan and Motorhome Club, these huge canvas cocoons are clustered within a grassy grove. They are described as “tents” but as I arrived at mine – one of four on the site – with its stretched beige canvas walls and roof, framed by wooden beams and lit with strings of fairy lights above the huge veranda, I realised my stay would be

more Kenya than King’s Lynn. Inside there was a full-size wooden dining table with seating for five, a kitchen area and two separate bedrooms complete with proper beds.

I had a celebratory sundowner on the deck, pleased to be able to toast two of my five species – and waited for night to begin to fall so I could rejoin Dave for a nocturnal safari in search of the hazel dormouse.

“Can you hear that sound?” I asked excitedly as a scratching noise emanated

from the undergrowth at Alverston Mead. This small nature reserve is home to a squirrel hide as well as a network of boardwalks and pathways: prime dormouse territory. They are nocturnal feeders, so our only chance of seeing them was to come in the half-light just before true nightfall; forests such as this one are being managed to save prime habitat for this protected species, with special nesting boxes monitored by volunteers.

“I think it was a bird,” said Dave. We wandered through the trees for several hours, allowing our eyes to develop night vision as owls heralded their presence with hoots, but to no avail. The dormouse had eluded me.

Next day I made my way south. The sun’s heat had warmed up the limestone rocks found in the town of Ventnor and before I had even greeted Dave in the car park of the Botanic Gardens, my fourth contender put in an appearance: the wall lizard. A nonendemic species, these small (around 8in) reptiles sport a yellow-green saddle on their backs, foiled beautifully by their otherwise mottled brown skin, and have been adopted by Isle of Wight residents as a prized species.

“Scientists believe they came from Italy – released illegally in the 1920s,” explained Dave as we watched a particularly fluorescent specimen pose next to a purple flower. “But some claim they are descendants from survivors of a shipwreck in the late 1800s.” We counted at least 15 that afternoon.

That evening I headed to the beach

‘Some claim they are descendants from survivors of a shipwreck in the late 1800s’

at Thorness Bay, just before sunset. Sadly, despite lingering in the shallows for two hours I saw no stingrays: just seaweed, blenny fish and the odd shore crab.

Just as I was about to call time on my search, I saw a fisherman casting his line into the water. “You’d need to come back in June or July,” he said when I told him of my quest. “After a warm day, keep an eye on the shingle bank and you can see them whip their tails in the water.”

I thanked him for his advice before stopping to ask for his name. “Ray,” he said, inevitably. Does that count, I wondered? I decided it probably did.

Experience Freedom (experience freedom.co.uk) offers safari tents – sleeping five; dog-friendly – at the Caravan and Motorhome Club (camc. com) Southland site from £39 per night, based on a two-night minimum stay. The campsite is on the outskirts of the village of Newchurch in the Arreton Valley and is open to members and nonmembers alike – though members get a 10 per cent discount. For more information on visiting the Isle of Wight, see visitisleofwight.co.uk