The ider pread of The White-tailed Eagle
These once-extinct ‘flying barn doors’ are causing quite the spectacle on the Isle of Mull, a White-tailed Eagle hotspot
The White-tailed Eagle is Britain’s largest bird of prey. Weighing in at an impressive 7kg or just over one stone for a big female (female raptors are usually larger than males), these hefty eagles are unmistakeable. With broad, straight wings and primary feathers spread like fingers, these birds can soar effortlessly on a wingspan of up to 240cm; that’s nearly eight feet in old money! It’s no wonder these birds are described as ‘flying barn doors’. Their adult plumage is dark brown, with a paler brown head which can fade almost to white with age, and a distinctive pure white tail.
Once restricted to their stronghold on the west coast of Scotland, the reintroduction of these birds, once extinct as UK breeders, has expanded to the Isle of Wight, and there are plans for Norfolk next year. Given their wandering habit and ability to cover vast distances on those massive wings, you may soon, with luck, encounter a White-tailed Eagle anywhere in Britain. Not that they are universally popular. Farmers have concerns for their livestock, and while White-tailed Eagles eat mainly fish, a young lamb would make the perfect meal for an opportunistic raptor.
The Isle of Mull is the White-tailed Eagle hotspot, but even here – where locals benefit hugely, either directly or indirectly from visitors looking for these birds of prey – not all residents are eagle fans. Unfortunately, it is tempting to stop in your tracks when you spot an eagle soaring, but blocking the narrow lanes is never going to endear you to the residents going about their daily lives. Stop with care is the watchword here. And so, we stopped with care (and speed!) when we noticed a White-tailed Eagle perched on a rock alongside a beautiful sea loch on day one of our recent visit to Mull.
Parking well off the road, we jumped out of the car for a better look at the bird, which appeared to be paying close attention to something at the water’s edge.
Focusing the binoculars, we realised it was watching a gaggle of Greylag Geese, four adults and five goslings, all paddling as fast as their feet would propel them. The eagle lifted off and flew menacingly low over the geese, testing them for weakness just as a Wolf stretches a bison herd to flush out the feeblest animal.
Instantly, all four adult geese stretched their necks up towards the eagle and snapped their bills, making a pointed barricade around the vulnerable goslings corralled in the middle. The eagle returned to its rocky vantage point and, throwing back its head, called to its mate who responded by joining the attack.
Now there were two White-tailed Eagles taking turns to make low bombing runs
over the geese, first one eagle in one direction, then the second eagle in the other. Each time the talons came close, the adult geese reared their heads in unison to ward off the attack until both eagles became weary of their failed attempts and settled side-by-side on their rock to preen ruffled feathers. It was a successful strategy by the Greylag Geese to combine forces to maximise the numbers of adults protecting their crèche of goslings.
Unfortunately, a second Greylag Goose family we encountered later wasn’t so lucky. With only two adults to protect their gaggle of four goslings, the odds this time were stacked in favour of the White-tailed Eagle. Despite both the parents valiantly defending their brood, those wickedlysharp eagle talons hooked the most inattentive gosling out of the water.
The adult geese honked, flapped their wings, and snapped their bills in a bid to distract the eagle, but to no avail. The hapless gosling was carried away across the loch to where the eagle had its own family of chicks to feed. The attack took only seconds, leaving both geese and birdwatchers slightly shocked by the incident. Nature red in beak and talon was certainly on display that day.
Our third close encounter of the White-tailed Eagle kind was equally dramatic but for different reasons. In weather more suited to the Caribbean, we took a boat trip out on a millpond-like sea loch, carrying only a small number of passengers, thanks to Covid restrictions, plus a large bucket of fish. We hoped we would see more eagles, but there are no guarantees with wildlife.
However, we didn’t need to worry. Within minutes of leaving the dock, we spotted a White-tailed Eagle perched in a tree beside the loch. The captain cut the engine and we all soaked up the views of the bird as it reviewed us with haughty disdain. It refused to budge, so the captain started the engine and we chugged away down the channel. Instantly, the eagle took off and followed us, almost as if worried it had played things too cool, but clearly both captain and eagle knew the drill.
As soon as the captain threw a fish into the air to land with a splash beside the boat, the eagle swooped to snatch it from the water. Those massive wings whooshed mere feet above our heads as the bird swooped down to grab the fish with a swish of its talons, then more wingwhooshing as it lifted off and away down the loch bearing its fishy payload. A second White-tailed Eagle materialised out of thin air, and another fish made a silver arc into the water. Instantly, the eagle transformed from a lumbering leviathan into an agile acrobat as it stalled and then dived down to whisk the fish from the calm surface.
It moved far too fast for our humble bridge camera to keep up, but even if we didn’t get many photos, we certainly captured memories to last a lifetime.
We were left totally in awe of these magnificent beasts, thrilled with our close encounters with these ‘flying barn doors’ and vowing to return for more special White-tailed Eagle moments like these on the Isle of Mull.
Ruth Miller is one half of The Biggest Twitch team, and along with partner Alan Davies, set the then world record for most bird species seen in a year – 4,341, in 2008, an experience they wrote about in their book, The Biggest Twitch. Indeed, Ruth is still the female world record-holder! As well as her work as a tour leader, she is the author of the Birds, Boots and Butties books, on walking, birding and tea-drinking in North Wales, and previously worked as the RSPB’s head of trading. She lives in North Wales.