Famous last words... and a Swainson's Thrush

YK texted me on Wednesday morning with the news that the Swainson's Thrush Catharus ustulatus that he had found on Friday was still in the same garden. I immediately told anybody willing to listen that there was no way on Earth that I'd be flying out to Heimaey in the middle of the week, even if it was for an American thrush I'd never seen. However, the general rule with me is that the louder I protest, the greater the likelihood is that the first person to arrive at the twitch will in fact be me. After phoning SÁ twice to expressly tell him that I wouldn't be joining him, I nevertheless soon found myself in his car along with DB, heading east out of Reykjavík for the tiny airfield at Bakki 100 km away.

Huge numbers of Golden Plover Pluvialis apricaria were amassed on the lowlands near the airfield. After joining up with HB and BA at the airfield we signed the passenger list "just in case we crashed and died" as the airline employee cheerily, yet honestly, told us, and we embarked on the six minute flight over to Heimaey. I've recently overcome a 15-year fear of flying, I don't know how, if I did I'd be making money out of it, and the flight was a lot of fun, taking us over the huge black beaches which stretch along the southern coast and then over the crag-girt outlying islands of the archipelago before landing on the only inhabited island in the group, Heimaey. I'd recommend a trip to Heimaey to anyone. In summer it is home to huge numbers of Puffins and other seabirds. In autumn it has an incredible pedigree for American vagrants despite receiving very little coverage. In 2003 it hosted Belted Kingfisher, American Robin, Cedar Waxwing and Black-throated Blue Warbler (the island's second). It's also had Ruby-crowned Kinglet (twice), Red-breasted Nuthatch and Least Bittern amongst others. For non-birders the attractions are even more obvious. It's the archetypal storm tossed north Atlantic island with the added attraction of a bloody great active volcano rising out of the edge of the town, a volcano which happens to be younger than me! YK shuttled us off to the garden favoured by the thrush and after a nervy wait, in which we caught glimpses of it, all five twitchers (a big crowd locally) got superb views of it. My first Catharus and my second American thrush after last year's exquisite Varied Thrush. We then had a couple of hours to kill before flying back (or so we thought) so we went to the lighthouse at the southern tip of the island to see the American Golden Plover Pluvialis dominica YK had found earlier that day. Arriving just on time at the airport I thought to myself how I'd have to come back and spend a night here this autumn. "Your wish is my command" said the airline official as they had just called off all flights until the following day because of the increasing blustery wind. Bugger.



The previous night's strong south-westerlies filled me with undue optimism and I envisaged finding another American passerine in the town's gardens before flying out. But birding in Heimaey can be deathly quiet and apart from the inevitable Redwings Turdus iliacus, the odd late Meadow Pipit Anthus pratensis, a Raven Corvus corax or two, it was virtually birdless. On the way home we got a phone call about another lifer for me, a very long overdue one, since GÞH had just found four White-rumped Sandpipers Calidris fuscicollis in Garður. We hastened there and saw two of them, both feeding and then in flight (they're not caled White-rumped for nothing it would seem). Close by we found my favourite European bird, two of them in fact, Red Phalarope Phalaropus fulicarius. YK has brainwashed me into calling them Red Phalaropes instead of Grey, and in fact I take great delight in doing so as around 90% of all the birds I've ever seen are in fact bright red summer birds. Grey Phalarope indeed!