RESEARCH AND RESCUE ON BRITAIN'S BIRD ISLANDS

During the late summer and early autumn of 2015, I visited some of the UK's most impressive seabird colonies to tell a story about the largest and most charismatic seabird in the north Atlantic - the northern gannet. With the assistance of conservation charity Wildscreen, I documented the pioneering work of seabird scientists and conservationists currently working to understand and protect the UK northern gannet population, which is a whopping 75% of the entire global population. Below is a phone video clip shot during a visit to The Bass Rock - the largest single rock gannetry on Earth... 

The first part of the story was to document pioneering research by a team from Leeds University, looking into gannet flight behaviours in 3D using miniaturised high resolution GPS loggers and altimeters. The devices are attached to the gannets to assess the risks that proposed offshore wind farms will have on their foraging behaviours by finding out where the gannets are fishing and most importantly, how long they spend flying at the same height as the rotor blades of wind turbines. They are also attaching loggers to immature gannets for the first time as little is known about their first few years of life, when they must learn how and where to find food and then prospect for a partner and defend a nest site. To find out more about the project, you can visit my Northern Gannet gallery here, visit James Grecian's (pictured below) website or read Jude Lane's great blog on the Bass Rock gannets.

For the second part of the story, I documented a desperate situation on RSPB Grassholm Island - a large gannetry 8 miles off the coast of Pembrokeshire, where plastic waste from Atlantic fisheries is causing devastation. Synthetic plastic fishing nets and monofilament fishing lines discarded in the Atlantic are washed into close proximity with Grassholm by ocean currents like the Gulf Stream and are mistaken by the gannets for natural fibres like seaweed and kelp. They bring the man-made fibres back to the island to line their nests, turning them into death traps, which entangle adults and more often, developing juveniles. It is estimated that there is now over 18 tons of plastic waste on Grassholm. I went out with a team of volunteers led by RSPB Ramsey Island wardens Greg and Lisa Morgan, who visit annually on a rescue mission to save as many entangled and struggling birds as they can. These guys are all heroes and often put their own lives at risk to save these desperate birds.

This bird was literally being strangled by a tightening noose as it dangled from the cliff edge and Greg crept carefully towards it so that he could cut it free and save its life. You can view a video from of the daring rescue in the video made by Greg below. For more about the story, visit my Northern Gannet gallery or read Greg's blog.

This story needs to be told as the only solution to this problem is education about marine plastics and legislation to prevent their discard. For maximum exposure, I worked with the Daily Mail to publish a piece in their national newspaper and on the Mail Online, which is the most read newspaper website in the world. You can read it online here.

HUNTING BARBARIANS

I recently visited Fuerteventura in the Canary Islands on the hunt for Barbary ground squirrels - or "chipmunks" as they are known to the tourists. Squirrels and other small mammals are favourites of mine as if you can get up close with a wide angle lens, you can create some pretty awesome images with dramatic backgrounds. When I was studying wildlife photography at university, we were known by the rest of the photographers as "squirrel snappers", but little did I know at the time, that this would become a speciality of mine! The Barbary ground squirrels are non-native to Furteventura, and as their name suggests, come from the Barbary coast of Africa, but they've invaded and have completely colonised the island, from its coastal lowlands up to its highest volcanic peaks.

After picking up the car and checking in at the hotel, I hit the tourist trail, as I thought that scenic viewpoints might be a good place to start - any place where bus loads of tourists stop to eat their sandwiches is bound to attract plenty of wildlife looking for an easy meal and viewpoints are usually pretty good for an impressive backdrop. It wasn't long before I found my first squirrel, so I framed up a shot using the natural forms of the landscape to draw the eye to where I was hoping the squirrel would come and pose and waited with a remote trigger for it to appear.

As you can see from the phone snaps above, the wildlife on Fuerteventura is pretty bold - the centre pic is me feeding a wild raven, which I found out from a tour bus driver was known locally as "Geronimo". He was one hell of a charismatic bird and I came back to photograph him a couple of times. In fact, hanging out with Geronimo was probably one of my top wildlife experiences ever - you could literally shout Geronimo into the valley and before long, he'd appear and swoop in to land next to you.

This was my favourite image of Geronimo from the trip - I had to drag a boulder about half a kilometre as there were no nice looking natural perches, but it was worth it to capture a portrait of him standing proudly in front of his valley. I used my travel tripod - a Manfrotto 190 cxpro4, a Nikon D800, an off-camera SB-700 and Pocket Wizard +3s to trigger the camera remotely.

I spent the next few days hanging around coastal resorts and beaches as I wanted to make some storytelling images of the squirrels in context with people and the human environment in the background. They were most active around lunch-time and it's normally not advised to shoot in bright sunshine in the heat of the day, but I turned the conditions to my advantage, by underexposing and using fill-flash to light the underside of the squirrels. By balancing the squirrel with the bright sunshine beating down on the ground, you can make the sky look extra rich and punchy.

You can see the rest of my "chipmunk" pictures in the BARBARIAN gallery I have just put up. I spent the rest of the trip recceing some locations and researching some cool conservation stories - I'm hoping to come back to Fuerteventura in the future to document the Egyptian vulture and turtle reintroductions (below). I had a great time on Fuerteventura - there is some stunning scenery and I'd recommend hiring a car so you can really explore the whole island as there are some amazing beaches and unexpected gems to discover, particularly in the south of the island.

© Sam Hobson 2015

www.samhobson.co.uk

ALONE ON HANDA ISLAND

This summer I had an amazing opportunity to spend a few days alone with the wildlife on Handa Island - a rugged and remote island off the north-west coast of Scotland. I've been to Handa previously to photograph the seabirds, which nest on the cliffs around the Great Stack, but this time I was going there for the great skuas or "bonxies" as they are more commonly known..  

"Bonxie" is a Shetland word for a dumpy, untidy woman, which I think sells them a little short. In my experience, they are highly intelligent, full of character, fiercely territorial, wild, beautiful, tough and awesome birds, which inhabit wild and beautiful places.

Bonxies are pretty much seagulls on steroids - last time on Handa, I watched them terrorise the birds of the sea cliff, and have epic battles with each other over territory, so I couldn't wait to get back out there to photograph them. After an epic drive from southern England to our campsite in Durness, near Cape Wrath, I was excited to get out on the first boat the next morning, so arrived nice and early, only to be greeted with a big sign.. "Boat to Handa OUT OF SERVICE". NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! There were a few others around, moderately disgruntled at the inconvenience, but I was in denial - after such a mission to get up there and after looking forward to it for so long, I couldn't accept that this was the end of the story. I quickly got on the case and to cut a long story short, after buying a few people flowers and boxes of chocolates and getting the thumbs up from the Scottish Wildlife Trust, I managed to secure a ride out on a local fishing boat. It was Monday morning and the fisherman who had agreed to take us out there then broke the news that he wouldn't be able to pick us up until Thursday afternoon... RESULT! We would get the whole of Handa Island to ourselves for 3 days! Even better, we would get the morning and evening light, which you never really experience if you go out on a day trip.

We pitched up our tent in a little walled enclosure and headed out to explore and see what the bonxies were up to.. Everything was running a little late and most were only just laying, so there was still a fair bit of display and posturing as they reaffirmed partnerships and divided up territory. Bonxies are monogamous and there are around 300 pairs on Handa, so it is a bit of a regional stronghold for the species. The pair in the image above, had set up a territory not far from our camp and would call together in unison whenever another bird came near. In the background is the Old Man of Stoer and Stoer Point, just a little way down the coast.

On the little beach, just down from our camp at the start of the tern colony, a pair were tucking in to a rabbit. Over the next few days, we realised, this was a symptom of a larger scale shortage of their regular food - mainly fish and birds. There has been a general decline in fish discards, but this year, as the season was a little behind, the sea cliff birds were breeding late, so the bonxies were getting desperate for food.

It wasn't just rabbits either - we saw bonxies actively predating each other. Bonxies will take birds as big as a great black-backed gull and have few natural predators (apart from golden and white-tailed eagles), so the bonxie remains strewn about the island provided enough evidence that this cannibalistic behaviour wasn't a one-off.

Where we set up camp wasn't ideal for evening light, so as sunset approached, I'd head up to near the Great Stack, as there was a flat area with a few rocks dotted around that the skuas used as perches to call and display from. Bonxies can be pretty aggressive to anything invading their territory, so you have to be careful to watch your back if you don't want a clout on the back of the head, but I wanted to include a bit of the background in some of my images, so had to get a bit closer with a medium focal length lens. With a bit of patience, I managed to slowly shuffle close enough that I could use my 70-200mm, which was perfect for a nice shallow depth of field, whilst including the mountains in the background. I got into position, just as the light started to give everything a warm glow, framed up my shot and waited for the skuas to display. 

This set were my favourite from the trip, as I think they capture what makes a skua a skua - firstly the massive barrel chest and white wing flash that instantly identifies them from a distance and their defiantly brutish character - the pirates of the bird world!

© Sam Hobson 2014

www.samhobson.co.uk

1 WEEK TO PHOTOGRAPH THE BIRDS OF SAINT LUCIA

In April this year, I had a fantastic opportunity to travel to the Caribbean and photograph the birdlife of Saint Lucia. I was invited over by by Anse Chastenet - a beautiful eco-resort on the west side of the island, which has an amazing diversity of bird species inside their grounds and surrounding areas. They wanted to produce a brochure for birders and photographers with a fresh collection of original images to showcase their birdlife and entice more visitors to come and experience the island. They asked me to come and do my best to photograph as many species as possible in just over a week... The pressure was on! To help me achieve this mammoth task, the management had provided me with a guide and a driver to assist me if I needed them.. Sounded good to me so I wasn’t complaining!

Having been to the Caribbean once before to photograph the frigates and tropic-birds in Tobago, I knew what to expect from the temperature and conditions, but I quickly had to get up to speed with the birds and wildlife so that I knew which species to concentrate on and where to find them. Saint Lucia has 5 true endemics, and a number of endemic subspecies, so these were high up on my list.

As soon as I arrived, I knew I was in for a treat - as I stepped off the plane to get my first taste of the sweltering tropical climate, I could hear a cacophony of bird calls and song coming from the surrounding forest. After my meet and greet at the hotel, I was shown to my room right down by the beach, where I opened up the doors to the balcony and in a flash, a lesser Antillean bullfinch flew straight in and up to the rafters. After half an hour of giving me the runaround, I managed to catch and release it, using a net fashioned with a loose scarf and my tripod. I decided to use the air-con from then on, so switched it on and went out to explore.

I didn't have to go far, as right outside my room, there was a little flowering shrub that had attracted 2 species of hummingbird - the small Antillean crested hummingbird and the larger green-throated carib. 

Antillean crested hummingbird - one of the few crested hummingbirds.

Green-throated carib in flight, feeding on nectar.

There was a range of habitats right inside the grounds - forest trails with rivers and streams running through them, beautiful beaches and cliffs, a small plantation, a few small lagoons, a reservoir and of course the hotel itself, which has been designed in such a way that it feels part of the landscape, and is teaming with small garden birds and hummingbirds. After checking out the grounds, I headed back to my room and found a juvenile little-blue heron just outside, walking the shore-line and hunting for small crabs.

Juvenile little blue heron walking at the surf's edge at sunset, looking for pickings.

 Juvenile little blue heron stalking crabs.

From my beach-side apartment, I had easy access to the beaches and trails that start from Anse Mamin, a five minute walk to the next bay. It was great to explore and find my own little areas and watch and learn about each species’ behaviour, so that I could work out how to get close enough to get the best picture. One of my favourite places, although stinky and fly-infested because of the dry-season, was a small stream that ran down from the reservoir to the beach at Anse Mamin. Bare-eyed thrushes and Scaly-breasted thrashers flitted around in the trees above and spotted sandpipers, green herons and yellow-crowned night herons skulked in the stagnant stream. It took me a while to approach them and I probably picked up a few parasites along the way as I crawled down the muddy stream, but it seemed that if I could get the confidence of the green heron, then the rest of the birds seemed to settle down and let me get close enough to photograph them.

A green heron with what looks like a lovely blue stream, but is actually a stagnant pool with the reflection of the blue sky and Anse Mamin beach behind.

Yellow-crowned night heron hunting for fish in a small stream.

Perhaps my favourite photographic experience of the trip was photographing this yellow-crowned night heron. I slowly crawled down the muddy stream to get as close as possible to him. It was particularly dark and shady under the thick canopy, but very occasionally the breeze would blow a gap in the treetops, big enough for some light to get through and the heron would peer up indignantly as the sun gave his game away to the small fish it was after in the water below.

Just a short walk from Anse Mamin, up through the forest trails was a small reservoir. Here I found the first 2 endemics on my list. The Saint Lucia pewee (pronounced "pee-wee"), an endemic flycatcher and the Saint Lucia warbler.

Endemic Saint Lucia pewee - a lovely, confiding little flycatcher.

Endemic Saint Lucia warbler, making short work of the tiny insects in the tree-tops.

Around the reservoir were small endemic Saint Lucia anoles (a small tree lizard), grassquits everywhere, grey kingbirds hunting flying insects over the pool, grey tremblers and mangrove cuckoos calling from the surrounding trees and the occasional broad-winged hawk would pass overhead on the lookout for prey.

Mangrove cuckoo, a shy bird that likes the deep scrub.

Broad-winged hawk patrolling the skies.

Saint Lucia Anole - a small endemic tree lizard which varies in colour, depending on its environment.

A short walk from the reservoir I found a lovely little lagoon, which I could have spent the rest of the day at. There were small shrubs planted around the edges, which were the cause of a lot of competition between the hummingbirds. I learnt a few things about hummingbirds that day - firstly that for such small birds, they can be extremely territorial and aggressive and secondly that they don't just feed on nectar, but are occasional flycatchers too. I watched a green-throated carib a number of times hovering mid-air until a small fly flew close enough for it to quickly dart after, grab and swallow.

An Antillean crested hummingbird displaying his crest in defence of territory.

Green-throated carib hovering in wait for insects.

After spending a few days with the birds at the resort, I decided to head out to a few nearby places, to look for some of the island's other specialties. Not far from the resort, at nearby Bouton, I managed to track down endemics number 3 and 4 - the Saint Lucia oriole and the beautiful and rare Saint Lucia green parrot or "Jacquot".

Saint Lucia oriole.

Saint Lucia green parrot or "Jacquot" in flight.

I didn't get quite as good pictures of them as I'd have liked, but under the time constraints, it was the best I could do and at least if I didn't manage any better, I had something, and more importantly there was only 1 endemic left to go.

Whilst up at Bouton, looking for the parrots, I got chatting to Charles and Meno from the hotel and they told me how down in Soufrière bay, just outside of the resort, that in the early evening, women from the market would throw scraps of chicken skin into the harbour, which would attract the laughing gulls and magnificent frigatebirds. We decided to head down and try it for ourselves, so Charles picked up a few bags of old scraps and we headed down to the relaxed little town and hung out for a lazy few hours, drinking a few Pitons and waiting for the evening sun so that the light was nice and low and warm. When Charles threw out the first few scraps of skin and neck, a solitary laughing gull headed straight over.

Solitary laughing gull in flight with Soufriere in background.

The rest of them obviously knew the drill, as within minutes, all of the laughing gulls in the bay were heading towards us and we got to watch a real feeding frenzy - and to their amusement, so did the rest of the town.

Laughing gull feeding frenzy, hovering in wait for chicken scraps.

It wasn't long before the frigates were attracted, but they were much more direct and determined. They seemed to see the piece they wanted from quite a distance and made a bee-line straight towards it.

Magnificent frigatebird in flight, with sun shining through its gular skin.

They would take turns to fly in to the frenzy, completely dwarfing the gulls, and heading straight for the prize piece they had their eye on. They would snatch it from the water or more often from a gulls bill like taking candy from a baby. I don't think I saw one of them miss once and they made the squabbling gulls look like real amateurs. Definitely worthy of their reputation as pirate-birds.

Frigatebird snatching chicken scraps from laughing gull.

I stayed around the resort for the next few days, as I wanted to make sure to try and get some pictures of the local birds with the iconic Piton mountains in the background. I moved from the beach up to an apartment half way up the mountain with an amazing view out over the forest and Soufrière bay towards the Gros and Petit Piton.

View of the Pitons from Anse Chastenet, St Lucia.

My first night in the new room, I was treated to a beautiful full moon, which lit the scene with an eerie light, so I tried some experiments with long exposures and white balance until I started to get some nice landscapes. In the morning I put out some fruit punch on the balcony to attract the birds and eventually they found it and started to visit regularly. I mostly had the company of lesser Antillean bullfinches (pictured at the very top of this post), grackles, bananquits and the occasional tropical mockingbird.

Tropical mockingbird in front of the Piton mountains.

They eventually got so comfortable with coming to the balcony, that I could take the food away and get a few pictures with just the birds on the balcony.

A female carib grackle in front of the Pitons.

A pair of lesser antillean bullfinches with the Piton mountains in the background.

Next on my list was visiting the bat cave just around the cliff, between Anse Chastenet and Soufrière. I had heard some of the guests talking about it and I'd seen a few large bats flying around the beach at dusk, so I was curious to see just how many there were for myself. I arranged a boat for the next evening. I spent the morning relaxing and enjoying the beach as I thought I deserved at least a morning off to have a snorkel and explore the coral reefs at Anse Chastenet and Anse Mamin. I'm glad I did as I saw all kinds of fish and sea-life, which I won't even begin to try and list, and I later found out that they are some of the best reefs on the island. We headed out on the boat in the late afternoon so that we still had plenty of time to explore the cliff on the way round to the bat roost. Just out from the beach, blue boobys were perched on the cliff and a pair of American kestrels were busy courting and getting amorous.

Blue booby on the cliffs at Anse Chastenet.

Just a little further around was a colony of nesting cattle egrets and just above them a row of yellow-crowned night heron nests. The night herons were a little high up the cliff for pictures, but we got some lovely views of the egrets nest-building and interacting.

Cattle egret nest-building.

I couldn't believe it as we approached the bat cave - you could hear them from quite a distance and as we approached, it looked like the walls were alive, rippling with movement. It was hard to pick out the individual bats - so close in colour to the cave walls and incredibly tightly packed in, but as we got closer the occasional one would fly from one side to the other or perhaps get an elbow in the ribs and call out indignantly.

Antillean fruit-eating bats at their cave roost in Soufrière.

There are an estimated 5000 Antillean fruit-eating bats at the Soufrière roost - an awesome spectacle and largest of the two main roosts on the island. We hung around as it was approaching dusk and I was hoping to see them leave the roost in a great explosion. As the light faded, we noticed a few American kestrels a broad-winged hawk and my first peregrine falcon of the trip soaring in the sky above. They had obviously come for the bats too, but with more sinister motives. Unfortunately, it got too dark for us to stay as the skipper didn't have enough lights on the boat to be licenced to navigate after dark, so we left the bats to run the gauntlet of the waiting birds of prey and headed home.

Antillean fruit-eating bats at their cave roost in Soufrière Bay.

With my week nearly over, I cleaned up the few bits around the hotel that I had overlooked like the ubiquitous zenaida doves and tried in vain to photograph a few of the species I had had ok views of, but not got close enough to for pictures like the kestrels and the beautiful belted kingfisher, which I'd had my eye on for a few days, but who was frustratingly flighty.

Zenaida dove on Anse Mamin beach.

On the last day, I made a plan to head out and look for the last endemic on the list and a few other bits which would be an added bonus and which I at least I wanted to see before I left, even if I couldn't get a picture. We headed to Des Cartiers, which is a well known forest trail for parrots. We got some great views of them flying over the forest in pairs, but sadly too distant for anything more and had the same luck with the rufous-throated solitaire - a smart looking bird, which I was really pleased to see, but a little disappointed not to get anything more than a "record" shot of. Lastly, we headed to Millet - another forest trail with almost guaranteed black finch, my last endemic. We followed the trails and got close enough for some more "record" shots of the males, but we managed to get close to one of the females, feeding on a coconut husk that had been left out on the trail by the park wardens.

Endemic Saint Lucia Black Finch feeding on coconut husk.

With all 5 endemics in the bag and a long list of other species, my photographic mission was accomplished. It was pretty full-on to cram everything into 1 week, but definitely one of my most fun and memorable commissions. There were a few executive decisions I had to make, like giving up the rare white-breasted thrasher for the sake of numbers and productivity, which given more time I wouldn't have had to, and there were a few nice birds I missed, but all in all it was a great success. I'd love to go back as now that I know where to find it all, and how much photographic potential there is on the island, I could achieve much better results than I did in the short time I was there. I may talk to Anse Chastenet about running wildlife photography tours out there in the future as apart from the amazing birdlife, the landscapes, light and other wildlife are all worth visiting the island for. Actually, the burgers at the beach bar at Anse Mamin are worth the trip alone!

You can see some of my other pictures from the trip on this site: http://birdsofsaintlucia.com

And on the Anse Chastenet main site with some words by my good friend Ed Drewitt here: http://www.ansechastanet.com/activities/birdwatching.html

Thanks to Karolin and Nick for the invite and all the staff at Anse Chastenet for such a pleasant stay, particularly Charles and Meno.

© Sam Hobson 2014

www.samhobson.co.uk