LUCY MCROBERT Keeping it in the family
A first for Britain was a red letter moment when a Zino’s Petrel cruised past the boat on yet another productive trip for Scilly Pelagics.
In the September issue (Birdwatch 339: 8-9), Bob Flood shared a gripping tale, a messianic moment where choirs of angels erupted in full song from grey clouds and shafts of light danced off the waves. A mermaid or two might have leapt from the sea. Honestly, none of us would have noticed if they had, because a Zino’s Petrel was cruising across the stern of MV Sapphire, before turning gracefully away from the boat and heading off down the wake to the horizon. For Bob, with more than 850 pelagics under his belt, this was a moment he had dreamt of for years. My husband, Rob Lambert, was at the back of the boat nattering. I was with daughter Georgie up front, chin-wagging about sharks with the fishermen. Alan Hannington was, unsurprisingly, eating from his bottomless lunchbox. Ross Newham (who has ridiculous good fortune when pelagic-ing off Scilly), was calmly reflecting on his excellent trip so far.
Bob was still intent, though. Razor sharp, even as we all switched off. For a softly spoken academic chap, goodness he’s got a set of lungs. The shout was deafening; chaos ensued – though perhaps with a second or two delayed reaction.
Petrel power
Looking back, it’s a miracle that nothing got broken. Alan almost did. Ears still ringing, we all scrambled for better views as the bird whizzed past the boat. Cameras waved wildly. I love the way petrels and shearwaters move, more wind than bird, completely elemental. Long winged, slender, smudgy, smoky grey contrasting stark white.
The boat slowed just as we hit a wave, causing us all to lurch; in my case straight into the door of the cabin, bumping Georgie’s head in the process. Any parent will recognise the heart-stopping moment of anguish when you fear that you’ve really hurt your kid. All I could think was “not for a bird, not for a bird,” as I held her tight, heart in mouth.
She was fine. Barely a tear and no bump. If anything, she seemed confused as to why Mummy was so upset. I’ve heard stories from other birders of child injuries inflicted in the field: binoculars in faces, trips and tumbles into brambles, seasickness. While the others poured over their photos, exchanged notes and chattered away like sparrows, I just felt guilty.
❝While the others poured over their photos, exchanged notes and chattered away like sparrows, I just felt guilt❞
Rob was now more Newfoundland puppy than person, but I seemed a spectre at the feast.
Luckily, the ecstasy felt by Bob Flood and the other Scilly Pelagics’ veterans was infectious. And the genuine global rarity of Zino’s Petrel gave an even deeper sense of occasion: there are estimated to be just 60-100 pairs of the species, making it one of the most endangered seabirds in Europe.
Should the record be accepted, Zino’s Petrel will be the 450th bird on the Scilly list, following on from Eastern Orphean Warbler (2017 – also a first for Britain), Belted Kingfisher (2018) and Royal Tern (2018). This gives the Isles a place in the top five countybased lists in the UK. Some 258 species were recorded here in 2019.
Even after a decade, I still consider myself a bit of a newbie to birding. There’s far more I don’t know than I do. I have huge respect for the experience that comes with age and years of dedication. I can’t grasp what it’s like for a life-long birder to witness a first for Britain. I didn’t grow up reading Collins Bird Guide by torchlight under the covers or planning out complex twitching scenarios. I love the birds, the adventure, the unpredictability, the chaos, the newness, the landscapes, the community and the serendipity. I don’t fantasise about finding rare birds or imagine ‘what if ?’
But seeing the Zino’s is a marvellous historical story to be part of. What a bird.
More than anything, I’m delighted the family shared in it. ■