I went to Draycote Water today, where three Great Northern Divers were reported just before I arrived.
“Two,” said the first birder I met. “One over there, and one back there. Distant though.”
“Two,” said the next chap I spoke to. “One was just about here, but that was an hour ago – I can’t see it now. And the other one’s over there somewhere. A long way out though – you know what they’re like.”
I certainly do know what they’re like. When they’re good, they can be very, very good. But when they’re bad, they’re horrid.
Given that there were at least two, if not three, present, the water was calm, the light wasn’t bad, and I am (if I ses it misen) pretty experienced by this time at spotting Great Northern Divers, I was really quite confident that I’d find one fairly easily today – even on a stretch of water as big as Draycote. But no. The internal dialogue went something like: “Cormorant, Cormorant, Cormorant, Cormorant, Great Crested Grebe – oh! What’s that? Turn round turn round turn round turn round…. oh. Another bl**dy Cormorant. Hmmm – what’s that over there, with the very pale breast? Ugh. Great Crested Grebe. Right. Cormorant, Cormorant, Cormorant – oh! Something dived! Come up come up come up come up… oh. Goosander. Right. Cormorant, Cormorant, Cormorant, Cormorant….” &c., &c, &c. For two and a half hours.
On the way back towards the car, pretty fed up by now, as you’d expect, I bumped into three chaps with scopes, and said (as brightly as I could manage), “I hope you’re having better luck than me!” To which one of them replied, “Well, it depends what you’re after, obviously – but there are a couple of Great Northern Divers out there.” “Distant though,” said one of his companions. “Oh yeah – at least a kilometre out, I’d say,” replied the first guy. “But you know what they’re like!” Yes. Yes, I do know what they’re like.
Happily, at this point the youngest of the trio took pity on me – well, no-one likes to see a grandmother lying on the ground moaning, drumming her heels and chewing gravel – and found me one of the Divers in his scope. The instant I stepped up to the eyepiece, it dived – because of course it did. So then he found me the other one, and I got a good look at it, and was able to pinpoint it for myself on the reservoir surface, and was thus able to add it to my year list, along with another five new-for year species, which together brought my tally to 74. Yay me.
I was tempted to post a shot of a piece of dim blue water a kilometre or so out from the shore, with a tiny, blurry grey blob on it that I would promise you on my honour was a Great Northern Diver. But I think I’ve probably pushed the Diver joke far enough now – so here instead is one of the two redhead Goosanders who were hanging out together near the inlet, giving me a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she headed away from the bank. It’s hard to resist a smiling Goosander, I think – but then, I’m not a fish.
R: L2, C3, D27.
