Frequently Asked Questions
During the course of a season, Osprey Team staff and volunteers are asked hundreds of questions when leading wildlife walks and cruises, or monitoring the Manton Bay Ospreys in the Lyndon Visitor Centre and the hides on the reserve. Most of the questions relate to the Ospreys and other birds, animals, plants and insects encountered on the reserve, and we hope the answers we provide satisfy all those inquisitive minds! This website also has a section ‘Osprey Info’ which should fill in any gaps still left after a visit to Lyndon.
Osprey-related questions apart, the commonest question from visitors after a morning or afternoon at Lyndon is ‘Is there a decent pub around here?’ Well, that one’s easy ~ ‘The Horse and Jockey’ at Manton is just a few minutes away, and is the regular haunt of Osprey staff and volunteers alike! They even do a dish called The Osprey’s Nest, which is a bowl of chilli topped with nachos and cheese, and they donate 50p to the Osprey Project for each portion sold!
Here are two more FAQ’s and answers…
FAQ No. 1 : Are there any good books about Ospreys?
Yes, there are! If you want to start building your own ‘Osprey Library’, consider some of these:
Ospreys ~ A Natural and Unnatural History, by Alan F Poole, Cambridge University Press, 1989.
This is still THE book for all Osprey addicts, even though it is over 20 years old now and unfortunately out-of-print. Second-hand book websites usually have it, although prices have shot up recently as more and more people want to know all about Ospreys! Alan Poole covers all aspects of Osprey distribution, behaviour, breeding, migration etc., mainly from a North American perspective, but as the Osprey is ‘a world citizen’ (R.T.Peterson) the information is relevant to all regions. Essential text book for all Osprey fans, both professional and amateur.
The Return of the Osprey, by Philip Brown and George Waterston, Collins, 1962.
The story of the Osprey’s extinction as a UK breeding species, and its return to the famous eyrie at Loch Garten in Scotland in the 1950’s and early 60’s. Out of date now, of course, but very well written and illustrated, and interesting for those who want to know the whole story of re-colonisation in Scotland. Usually available second-hand. Also has chapters on the Black-tailed Godwit, the Avocet, and some other rare breeding birds.
A Life of Ospreys, by Roy Dennis, Whittles Publishing, 2008.
World-renowned Osprey expert and good friend of the Rutland Osprey Project, Roy Dennis tells the story not only of the Osprey, but the Osprey watcher. He follows the bird’s fortunes in Scotland, from a single pair in the 1950’s to over 220 pairs less than sixty years later. Roy also gives accounts of the Osprey’s story in other parts of the UK, including the re-introduction scheme here at Rutland Water. He shows how satellite tracking allows us to follow and map the migrations of Ospreys to Africa and back. Included in this superbly illustrated book are Roy’s personal diary entries, written at a time when no-one knew whether or not his lifetime’s work would succeed, and which add a unique sense of history to this very personal tale. Highly recommended to all Osprey watchers.
Lady of the Loch, The Incredible Story of Britain’s Oldest Osprey, by Helen Armitage, Constable, 2011.
This is the story of Lady, the Scottish Osprey from the Loch of the Lowes, which in 2010 produced eggs for a record-breaking twentieth time, raising 48 chicks along the way, and completing an amazing number of migrations to and from West Africa. It is an inspiring tale, well told, and with four colour photos showing Lady and some of her offspring. Here at Rutland Water we don’t yet have any Ospreys of that vintage, but we do have our male 03(97), whose latest chick brings his total to 24! A book about him one day maybe?
Two terrific books from award winning American author and Osprey fanatic David Gessner :
The Return of the Osprey : A Season of Flight and Wonder, Algonquin Books, 2001
Soaring with Fidel : An Osprey Odyssey from Cape Cod to Cuba and Beyond, Beacon Press, 2007
I read these books over and over again, especially in autumn and winter, when our Ospreys are far away. David Gessner’s passion, joy and sheer intensity are inspiring and never fail to excite. He truly reminds us on every page why we study and cherish these magnificent birds of prey.
Many organisations working with Ospreys have published their own booklets to tell visitors to the area about them. A few examples are shown in the photograph.
…….and if you want to go back a really long way (exactly 100 years in fact) try and find a copy of The Home Life of the Osprey, by C.G.Abbott, Witherby 1911. Abbott left the UK in 1897, by which time there were no Ospreys at all in England and precious few in Scotland. In America he spent his summers studying and photographing the Ospreys, which were still common on the coasts of New Jersey and on Gardiner’s Island, New York. The author’s photos, which are amazing considering the years in which they were taken (1907 -9), are mounted as plates on 32 pages at the back of the book, making it seem like a photo album. An amazing piece of Osprey history! I found one by chance in a lovely shop in Norfolk a few years ago now.
I hope that answers that question! I’m sure there are other Osprey books still to discover, and, who knows, we might write one of our own about the Rutland Water Ospreys one day!
*****
FAQ No.2: What’s the big house on the hill that you can see across the Reservoir from the Lyndon Visitor Centre?
We get asked this all the time. It’s Burley-on-the-Hill Mansion. Not to be confused with Burghley House, which is a few miles away near Stamford. Photographs of the Ospreys in Manton Bay often show Burley-on-the-Hill Mansion in the background.
The Mansion is in fact the second great house to be built on the site. The first one was owned for many years by George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who was accustomed to provide lavish entertainments for his guests. On one occasion, when King Charles I and Queen Henrietta were visiting, the highlight of the banquet was an enormous pie, carried in by a team of servants. The crust was cut to reveal a very small man inside! This was Jeffrey Hudson, who earned fame as ‘The Hero of the Pie’ and ‘The Smallest Man of the Smallest County’. Buckingham was murdered in 1628, and the house was destroyed by Parliamentarian supporters after the Civil War.
The second house, which we see now, was completed by around 1710. By that time, the estate was owned by the Finch family, who had the title Earls of Nottingham. The house was built with fine materials, and decorated by the best painters and sculptors of the day. It was filled with pictures, tapestries and porcelain from all over the world, and was one of the ‘great houses’ of England. The Finches lived in the house for several generations: Lady Charlotte Finch was governess to the children of George III, and a very fine statue of her can still be seen in Burley Church. George Finch was a member of the MCC (Marylebone Cricket Club) and is credited with inventing the ‘6 ball over’ in cricket ~ many prestigious games were held on the lawns of the house. The ‘Finch’s Arms’ in Hambleton is named after the family.
A later member of the Finch family rented the house out to some cousins of Winston Churchill. Churchill himself was there in August 1908 when a fire broke out and much of the interior of the house, including many precious and irreplaceable items, was destroyed. Apparently the nearest fire appliance was a horse-drawn affair at Melton Mowbray, and it took three hours to arrive. Churchill wrote to his fiancée that the whole thing had been tremendous fun, but his hosts did not agree! A period of restoration followed, and the house was used as a hospital for wounded officers in World War I. It was open to the public for a period in the 1950’s, by which time it had passed into the hands of Col. James Hanbury. It was sold again in 1990 to Asil Nadir, whose company Polly Peck intended to turn it into a grand hotel and sporting estate. As everyone knows, this did not happen, and rescue came in the form of a return to ownership by the Hanburys, who converted the house into a series of luxury dwellings and apartments, which were sold into private ownership.
And so it still stands today, presiding over a very different landscape “standing serene on the edge of Rutland’s ancient woodland”.
Information from a very fine book ‘Burley-on-the-Hill Mansion’ by Raymond Hill (2001)
Reflections on Site B
Volunteer Ken puts pen to paper after reminiscing about his many visits to Site B over the years…
Tuesday July 12th: 8.00am: Site B: I’ve just arrived at the watch-point after the walk down through the fields and along the hedges. It’s colder today, but dry at least ~ it’s Week 17 of the monitoring season here, and I’ve yet to experience a really wet shift. Now that I’ve written that, no doubt it will pour down in the weeks ahead. My change-over with the early-morning team is swift and efficient as always ~ almost as good as 03 and his mate during incubation.
I settle down. Temperature, wind direction, visibility all recorded. Log begins ‘Female at nest with chick, male on perch nearby.’ All is calm. Have you ever thought about a particular place that you know: ‘This is the most perfect spot in the whole world’? Well, for me, this is it ~ sitting in a canvas chair under an old oak tree, note-book on knee, coffee cup on a flat stone nearby, looking across towards another oak tree, at the top of which is the great structure originally created by 03(97) over ten years ago.
Yes, it was a decade ago, almost to the day, when members of the pioneering Rutland Water Osprey Project must have been in a celebratory mood. Here at Site B, the first English-born Osprey for 150 years had just been ringed, weighed and measured! It was a red ring with white lettering ~ 13(01) ~ and the chick (thought to be a female) had weighed in at a healthy 1500 grams. The records show that some familiar faces were present at this momentous event ~ among them a young Project Assistant called Tim Mackrill! Both Tim and the chick fledged successfully ~ one to become the Project Officer and the other to begin her long and solitary migration on 30th August. Unique among Rutland Ospreys, 13(01) was given a name, chosen by young viewers of the BBC’s Newsround programme. She was called, appropriately, Aqua. Sadly, she never returned, but she was certainly the start of something magnificent ~ her Father 03(97) is still here, sitting proudly in front of me as I write this and guarding the latest of his 24 chicks, blue-ringed 33(11). I feel a sudden strange affinity with the birds and their protectors from those early days, and almost out loud thank them for their faith, courage and determination.
It’s still quiet. The log shows that the chick fed well just after 6.00am this morning, so there is no urgency to find more fish at the moment. Time for more reflection. I was first brought here six years ago now, in August 2005, for an evening watch. The excitement mounted during the walk, and then suddenly we were here ~ with the iconic 03(97) and his long-term mate, the greatly missed 05(00), watching anxiously as their three chicks flew around. I vividly recall that evening ~ gazing around in rapt wonder as FIVE Ospreys wheeled above me, eagerly soaking up Osprey knowledge so expertly passed on by my companion, learning the ‘shift etiquette’ ~ never arrive too early for your shift, and never linger for too long once your shift is over ~ then straining to see the yellow rings on the juveniles and beaming with pride when at last I could read them through the ‘scope ~ 30, 31 and 32! Two of them returned in subsequent years, and one ~ the female 30(05) ~ is still in Rutland as I write this. We had to leave at 8.00pm, but I would willingly have stayed all night! I’ve been here hundreds of times since then. No two watches are the same, as my note-books, diaries and memories testify…..Just flicking back through the pages for May, June and July this year highlights a few pictures in my mind….
10th May: Jays, Cuckoos and Whitethroats everywhere. Ospreys change over incubation duties very regularly, with the female always doing twice as much as the male. Small green caterpillars are descending on silken threads from the oak tree above me. Each time one reaches the ground, a female Blackcap hops out and grabs it I decide to try and reach the next one before the bird does, but I’m too slow and the bird wins every time. Later I find several caterpillars drowned in my coffee cup. I toss them out, but the Blackcap doesn’t come for them. I’ll try de-caff for her next week. I realise that the Cuckoo calling incessantly above me always finishes on ‘cuck’ and not ‘oo’. Is this a generally known fact, or have I just discovered an astounding new facet of Cuckoo behaviour? Must test it out on other Cuckoos.
24th May: I relieve Tom and Ann, just back from their daughter’s wedding in America. It was an outdoor service, and during the ceremony Tom added a new bird to his life-list ~ a Townsend’s Solitaire! Brilliant name, brilliant bird! I look it up in my American field-guide later! I hear on the radio that hatching is imminent at Manton Bay. The excitement crackles over the airwaves as I sit here at my remote outpost. This pair still have a few days to go.
31st May: Won’t be long now. It’s been a long incubation, but they’ve never been alone, not even for five minutes. Six Fallow Deer go leaping through the crop field. During night duty I had them down as SAS men, but they’re clearer today in the bright sunshine. Off they go, pronking like South African Impala. Maybe there’s a cheetah after them. Not so fanciful ~ the Rutland Panther was reported near Uppingham earlier in the month! A brief hail-storm covers everything in white ice-balls for a few minutes, but they soon melt. That must have tested our Ospreys out there. A sudden roar of engines and an ancient Dakota aircraft clatters over the wood barely above tree-top height. It still has its D-Day livery painted on the fuselage. Thousands of pigeons, crows, jackdaws and other birds leave the wood in blind panic in a whirl of wings and a chorus of cries and calls. Just two birds remain unmoved: 03 on his perch on the small oak, and his female on the nest. Devotion to duty indeed. The Dakota pilots of old would be proud.
14th June: On the walk to the watch-point, 03 suddenly appears over me carrying a massive branch which is interfering with his flying. If he drops it, I’ll retrieve it and add it to the artificial nest outside the Visitor Centre at Lyndon….. But he doesn’t, and drops it across his own nest….The crop-field, once a brilliant yellow, then green, is now gashed and dappled with patches of red poppies. First good view of chick in nest.
21st June: The ‘Day of the Swifts’ ~ I’ve never seen so many in one place. Maybe there’s been a hatching of insects, which is providing rich pickings for them this morning. Where can they be going? Not leaving already surely? I decide to follow one for as long as I can, to see if it’s going anywhere in its dashings and dartings. It is going gradually south. I do the same with another, and another, and another. They’re all going gradually south, constantly replaced by hordes of others coming in circuitous fashion from the north. At one point 03 rises with them, towering ever higher until he is just a dot. He doesn’t drift south with them, but east, until lost in the distance. Happy fishing. Marsh Tits, Wrens and Whitethroats are all around me today, busily searching, churring, living. In a St Francis of Assisi moment, I have them all at my feet at once, joined by a Robin, Dunnock and a Chaffinch. I decide not to talk to them as he did ~ anyway, it’s those little caterpillars they’re all after, rather than any homily from me. 03 is suddenly back with a fish, and his mate is still feeding the chick as I leave.
5th July: 03 is absent as I arrive, but before too long I see him approaching from the east. A rakish Hobby engages briefly with him, and an enthralling aerial entanglement ensues, joined by the female, who cannot resist a tumble and a chase. The juvenile watches intently from the nest. The Hobby soon tires of this game, and zooms away at great speed, leaving the Ospreys to settle again. The Swifts are once again plentiful ~ last week’s contingent are probably well on their way to Southern Europe by now. I heard today that a Cuckoo fitted with a satellite transmitter in East Anglia in May is already back in Africa! No doubt the Swifts will be there too before long……………
‘And earthbound men, whom you so little heed,
Shall lift with joy their winter-weary gaze
To welcome your return with summer days’ *
At 9.30 precisely the female embarks on a sudden joyous, exuberant flight, culminating in two complete sideways flip-overs! I’ve only ever witnessed this once before, by the regal matriarch 05(00) several years ago. I remember thinking then that maybe this was some sort of display to an unseen rival, or perhaps a demonstration of the thrill and freedom of flight to the young and still flightless juvenile in the nest below? Or was it just a release of energy and fun as she realised that her task was almost done, and the long confinement at the nest almost over? Who knows? Great to watch whatever the cause. The chick responds with vigorous wing-flapping, up to 20 consecutive flaps at a time. Looking good for a launch in a few days.
And so back to today, 12th July: The chick is jumping around the nest, from side to side, and flapping vigorously. Today or tomorrow? It can’t be long now before the first flight. 03 and his mate seem much more intolerant of Buzzards and Red Kites today, and chase these inoffensive neighbours away every few minutes. I realise quite suddenly that the hordes of Swifts have gone. There are a few scattered ones, but nothing like the dense clouds I saw last week. Where are the ones I tracked carefully last week to determine their direction? I wonder.
‘…..some strange signal that shall bid you fly,
On your far pilgrimage, by ways unknown…’ *
Two days later, the chick flew, thus becoming 03(97)’s 24th successfully fledged chick from the Site B nest. We wish 33(11) well and hope to see him back in 2013!
*Extracts from the poem ‘To Swifts on Migration’ in ‘Verses and Tales’ by Violet Boyd (1954)
A Grand Finale for the Osprey Road Show
‘Scattered heavy showers this afternoon’ said the weather forecast at lunchtime on Friday 9th July, and as the Osprey Team start to set up their stand at the Stilton School Fete conditions didn’t look too promising. But it takes more than a few showers to deter this team, so Paul, Ken, Anya and myself are in good spirits as we prepare to ‘inform and entertain’ the crowds at this Church of England Primary School in the historic village of Stilton. Here is Ken’s report……
‘We’ve got a good position under a covered walkway, so we should be sheltered from the worst of the weather. Our new illustrated display-boards are terrific, and give all the basic facts about Ospreys and Rutland Water. They are the backdrop to our stand. We’re right next to the candy floss stall and the coconut shy, and there’s another stall which involves throwing bean-bags at a pile of empty tin cans. They fall with a terrific clatter every few minutes. There’s even a pair of stocks and some sponges and buckets of water…any volunteers from the team to be the first victim? Soon, young children are sitting at our table making Osprey masks. Michelle has made a very lifelike one in the correct colours, but the children like more colourful effects and we soon see purple, green, orange and red Osprey faces!
Making Osprey masks
Young Ospreys
Parents show a lot of interest, and we give them leaflets and pictures to encourage them to bring their families to Rutland Water to see the Ospreys for real in the summer holidays which are starting soon. The lap-top is showing recent footage from the Manton Bay nest, which everyone likes. We are just thinking of starting the Fishing Game ~ with the plastic fishes actually in a water-filled paddling pool ~ when the heavens open and one of those ‘scattered heavy showers’ descends on us. We have to abandon the game on ‘Health & Safety’ grounds. I can imagine 5R(04) saying to his mate back at the Reservoir ‘No, I’m not going out fishing this afternoon in this weather….Health & Safety won’t allow it!’
Fortunately we’re quite dry under our covered walkway, and the masks are proving very popular. Paul, Anya and Michelle are all wearing them now. A young man approaches and says he was fishing in a lake near the village last spring when an Osprey suddenly appeared, cruised around for a while, and then dived into the lake and caught a fish! We give him all the leaflets, with instructions to ‘Call this number’ if that ever happens again!
The fete is now in full swing! Michelle disappears into the school and returns with a lovely plate of home-made cakes, which are soon gone. She has also found a cheese stall ~ well, this is Stilton after all! The school caretaker is now ‘in the stocks’ and getting a good soaking from the children! All good fun.
We meet the Headteacher, Miss Baughan (one of my old students). Her school is already part of the Eco-Schools scheme, and she is keen and enthusiastic when Michelle suggests we might come again in the autumn and give a presentation to some classes. Contact numbers are exchanged.
By 5.00pm, ‘scattered heavy showers’ have become ‘prolonged downpours’, so most people are drifting home. We decide to pack away, but not before we’ve had more cakes and tea…….and of course said ‘Goodbye’ and ‘Thank you’ to Stilton Primary School for letting us share their Fete. We’ll see you again!
Since the end of March, Michelle and the team have visited, or received visits from, eighteen Primary and Secondary Schools from all over the East Midlands. This does not include visits from Universities including Nottingham Trent and Leicester. Several hundred young people and their teachers have learnt about the return of the Ospreys to Rutland Water, and hopefully thoroughly enjoyed the process. We hope to renew contact with them again in the autumn and let them know the final outcome of the 2011 season.’
The Osprey Road Show Hits Uppingham!
The latest stop in the hectic schedule of the Osprey Project Summer Roadshow took place this afternoon, when Information Officer Michelle, assisted by Volunteer Ken, took the short flight from Lyndon over to Uppingham Community College to meet a very smart group of young naturalists and their enthusiastic teacher Karen Grunwald. Ken takes up the story…..
We’ve only got an hour to get our message over, but it’s pretty clear from the first moment that we’re dealing with a pretty ‘switched-on and tuned-in’ group of young people here :
* Yes, they all know what an Osprey is ~ excellent descriptions are given to us, which include words like ‘fish-eating’ and ‘migratory’.
* Yes, they’ve nearly all seen one in real life, most around Rutland, but one in Scotland around the ruins of an old castle. One boy who lives near the reservoir has even seen one from his bedroom window! Now who can beat that?
* Yes, they all know they are RARE, and can only be seen in a very few places in England.
* A few of the older ones (aged 14) are really into the natural world. Their teacher introduces them one by one.
This is a brilliant start. To see local youngsters like these showing such interest and knowledge is very encouraging for all of us involved in the Project. We need them, the Ospreys need them, to help us educate the rest of the population. They are the perfect ambassadors. So thank you, Uppingham CC, for allowing us to come and see you today.
Michelle starts the presentation, including video sequences, which as always are a hit. We deal with past decline, present recovery, and hopes for the future. We tell stories of famous individual Rutland Ospreys and great migrations across the Sahara and into West Africa. We talk about translocations, ringing, colour-coding, satellite tracking and recording. We look at Osprey nests in trees and on platforms. We look at Osprey beaks and feet, and get to use that super word zygodactylic ~ having two forward-facing toes and two back! Questions come every few seconds. Very good ones too. In fact there are so many questions that Karen has to call a halt so that we can finish the presentation on time!
At the end there are video sequences showing the Manton Bay chicks in the nest, and 5R(04) bringing in that monster bream last week! Then it’s photo time :
They all look pretty happy, don’t they? We get a vote of thanks and a round of applause! Perfect timing, as the bell rings and it’s time to go. A couple stay behind to chat. The boy who has seen Ospreys from his bedroom window tells me more ~ he is quite an expert already.
And finally ~ and most memorably ~ a girl approaches Michelle and says ‘How do I go about getting a job like yours?’ ‘Well’, says Michelle, ‘the first step is to come and see us at Lyndon, and we’ll take it from there.’
Two Loaves and Eight Fishes…..and a Miracle!
Sunday 12th June : Manton Bay, 1.00 – 5.00pm : This promises to be the first really wet Sunday of the season so far, so it would be nice to have a decent packed lunch to enjoy in Wader Scrape hide to raise the damp spirits a little. Unfortunately provisions were very low at home this morning, and all I could find were two rather stale little loaf-shaped rolls, a lump of cheese, and a banana. Oh well, it will have to do. I’m reading an old book by Frances Pitt at the moment, called ‘How to See Nature’. It was published in 1940, when things were tough for everyone. She recommends ‘bread, cheese and an apple’ as the perfect accompaniment on a country ramble, so I’m in good company.
The weather forecast was right. It’s raining steadily as I arrive at the Lyndon Centre, and it continues relentlessly for the entire afternoon. Mind you, this is nothing compared with a famous day in July 2007 when I was down here all on my own during a terrific storm, during the course of which water started coming up through the floor of the hide and I had visions of myself floating heroically away in Wader Scrape, like some modern beleaguered Noah in his Ark. I survived that, and so did 08(97) and 5N(04), who raised two chicks here that summer. Today Paul makes me a cup of tea and the whole team wave me a cheery goodbye as I make for the hide.
There are quite a few visitors today, despite the awful weather. 5R, looking a bit bedraggled, is out there on his perch, and his mate is trying to shelter three rapidly growing chicks. The log shows that he has already caught several little fishes in quick succession this morning. Two families with four children and a big, wet, friendly dog pile in, and are thrilled to see the Ospreys. They don’t mind the rain. 5R obliges and goes fishing in the rain, circling above the bay before plunging in several times in full view of everyone. He catches a small fish at 2.10, which is taken back to the nest, and then another at 2.15, which he eats himself. He repeats the performance at 3.30 and 3.35, by which time he has another set of appreciative visitors in the hide. This is one intelligent Osprey. He knows he will not be able to catch a big fish in the open water in these conditions. So he has adapted his technique and is going after the smaller fry in the shallows. Very successfully too ~ that’s at least eight little fishes today so far. And this is the same bird which this time last week landed a monster bream after an epic struggle. Different day, different thinking.
After the 3.35 fish, I lay out my own meagre lunch and contemplate it without relish : two little loaves and a piece of cheese. Then the thought comes to me ~ combine my loaves with 5R’s fishes and we have the potential for a miracle of biblical proportions! We could feed every young Osprey and every family in Rutland. For ‘Rutland Water’ read ‘Sea of Galilee’ and the scene is set ~ all ingredients in place. Except one ~ we don’t have the Miracle Worker Himself. I look down the row of visitors in the hide, all concentrating on the Ospreys in the rain. No, there’s no-one there I can cast in the role of miracle worker. 5R has finished his 3.35 fish and is already looking for another. My little loaves remain on the cloth. There are still two. They haven’t multiplied. I break them into pieces to eke them out a little further, but they’re soon gone. Out on the reservoir a fisherman in a small boat casts his line in the rain : in another gospel moment I see him hauling in a net bulging with fish. Next thing he’ll be walking on the water…..
A new set of visitors bring me back to reality. One little group have come all the way from Yorkshire to see for themselves the Osprey family they’ve been watching all week on the webcam. As I prepare to leave at the end of the afternoon, 5R is still fishing, regularly returning small meals to the nest and eating the occasional one himself. In an incredible breathtaking moment he lands for us on the dead tree, staring down into the water, a stunning portrait etched into our minds forever. That was the miracle…..and we are so happy that we were there to witness it.
You’re never too young to learn about Ospreys……..
No two days are ever the same for Osprey Information Officers……or Osprey volunteers! On Tuesday it was Site B for me, today ~ as they say ~ it’s ‘something completely different’, and I’m with Michelle on a visit to Oakham C of E Primary School, where we are going to ‘entertain’ about sixty boys and girls from Reception Class and Year One. That’s right, 60! And they’re all four and five years old….Now I know we like to ‘catch ‘em young’ when it comes to getting the conservation message across, but FOUR years old? Even Tim Mackrill didn’t start that young…..did he?
In the car on the way to the school, I share the fact with Michelle that, despite more than thirty five years as a teacher, I never worked with children younger than eleven. She replies that she hasn’t either….but we’ll be fine, won’t we? We both go quiet for a while. At the school we’re met by enthusiastic teachers and classroom assistants, who show us some nine-day old chicks that the children have been watching from the egg stage. That’s a good start. We carry all our equipment through to the Reception/Year One classroom area, and start to set up. The children are not in yet, but we can see and hear them playing excitedly outside. They really are very small. Cups of tea are prepared for us as we run through our activities. Just before 9.00am the children start to come in and sit in rows on the carpet in front of us as we perch on tiny chairs finishing our tea. There are a few older children, aged perhaps 7 to 9, who have been invited to join us because they have shown interest previously. We’re seeing the little ones in two groups of thirty, for about one hour each. Lots of them smile, a few giggle, and one cries. Class teacher Mrs Holland takes the register in an amazing way : Bonjour Emily, Guten Tag Ryan, and so on, each child addressed in a different language! And the children ~ four years old remember ~ respond in the same way ‘Bonjour Mrs Holland’ ! Terrific to see. Then we are introduced, and thirty little faces are turned expectantly on us.
Michelle begins with photos on the screen showing Ospreys. I hold up the big cardboard model Osprey, wings outstretched, to give them an idea of size. They respond really well to Michelle’s questions about colours, claws, beaks, food, nests and so on. They love the video sequence showing a dive and a fish-strike, and we have to play it over and over again. They like the colour-rings, model egg, and the radio transmitter device, and all want to touch them. Mrs Holland calls them all back to their places when enthusiasm gets the better of some of them. A few are quieter and more reserved, but hopefully are getting the message. I would never have believed before today that children as young as this could be taught the basics of migration and even translocation, but Michelle is doing it in front of my eyes, and by their responses the children show that they are understanding what she is telling them. It’s brilliant to watch : at this rate Michelle will be re-writing the Key Stage 1 National Curriculum to include ‘Osprey Studies’.
Now it’s time for Osprey Games : hurrah! The first one, devised by Michelle and Will, is a Drama game, and it’s great fun, so here we go : first of all, let’s imagine we’re a tiny Osprey inside that little egg, all curled up, eyes closed, very, very quiet…..for 37 days. well, let’s make that 37 seconds, and even that is difficult. Next scene : the shell is cracking, you’re hatching!! You can come out, stretch your legs and stubby wings, try and hold your wobbly head up….(note for next time : 30 wobbly heads, 60 stretching arms and legs make for quite a Health and Safety hazard). Next : you’re hungry, but you have to make the food-begging call before your Mummy Osprey will give you a little piece of fish. Cue ear-splitting high-pitched calls from 30 ospreylets, rewarded by laminated fishes dished out by Mummy Michelle and Daddy Ken (well, I have occasionally witnessed direct feeding of the young by male Ospreys). After a big dinner like that you will need to rest ~ most skip this stage ~ and then it’s on to wing-flapping, helicoptering, and finally, finally, the joy and wonder of the first flight, which leads our little Ospreys to all corners of the room, from which, of course, they have to get back on shaky wings. The logical end to the game ought to be migration, but we don’t want to lose anyone and cause a police alert, and anyway, the adults in the room are already looking a little fraught, so we decide to end it there. You had to be there to appreciate the sheer joy on the children’s faces! Well done everyone, especially Michelle, who really ought to copyright this game! For permission to use it at your own Osprey parties, please e-mail her at the Project!!
Next comes the the Fishing Game! For this we recruit the help of the older children, so William, Tom, Freya and Brandon are in charge of groups of chicks who are going fishing out on the Reservoir ( a large sheet of blue plastic laid out on the floor ) for the first time. They have to wait their turn ~ Ospreys never fish in flocks ~ and then they hover over the ‘water’ and try to catch one of the fish with the magnet on the end of their lines. Not as easy as you might think! At the end, the Reservoir has been completely cleared of fish, which are now lined up on the banks in each corner, ready to be counted and organised into species. The scores are written up on the board : each group has captured well over twenty fish of six different species, which shows that the Osprey will catch a diverse range of fish species. Tom, one of our captains, informs me that we should really have included a zander amongst all the other fishes, as there is a single record of the remains of one being found beneath a Rutland Osprey nest. Tom is clearly the next Tim Mackrill.
And finally it’s the end! Where did that hour go? It’s playtime now, so it’s coats on and line up at the door. A few linger and play with all the things we have brought with us. Some of the questions the children ask are quite amazing : ‘When he’s in Africa, how does an Osprey know when it’s time to come home to Rutland Water?’ Answers should be double-spaced, not more than 10,000 words, and headed ‘Ph.D Thesis’. Another question : ‘When there’s a Mummy Osprey but no Daddy, what happens to the little ones then?’ Sadly we know the answer to that.
We are thanked profusely over and over again, and finally they all run outside and continue their Osprey flights around the playground. We’ve got a twenty minute break now…..and then we do it all again!
This is perhaps one aspect of the Osprey Project that not so many people see, but it is absolutely invaluable and deserves praise and recognition. Over the season there will be many visits like this one, and all members of the team will be taking part. It has been a privilege today to be here and assist Michelle. Just before we leave this lovely school, Mrs Holland and Michelle make some arrangements for a return visit, when the children will be able to come down to Manton Bay and see the real Osprey family for themselves. I hope they come on a day when I am there as well…..and I must check on that zander record. It can’t be right…..can it?
A Close Encounter, Breakfast at Egleton, Expectant Parents at Lyndon…
Dawn at Whitwell Creek, north-west shore of Rutland Water. The cruiser ‘Rutland Belle’ lies at the jetty, ready to take us out on an early morning search for hunting Ospreys and other awakening wildlife. There is a chill in the air, but it is dry and clear. Hushed conversations as passengers check in and have their names ticked off the manifest.
Looking out across the water today, I am recalling an afternoon cruise we did in August 2008, when renowned Osprey expert Roy Dennis was on board with us. We hadn’t been out on the water for many minutes when Roy called from the back of the boat ‘Tim, there’s one over there’, and sure enough, we spotted an Osprey over the Yacht Club. It came closer, obviously in fishing mode, and made two or three unsuccessful dives by the dam. Tim identified it as 08(97) as it flew past ~ the first Osprey to fly home to Rutland Water after translocation in 1997 and homeward migration in 1999 ~ giving everyone on board truly spectacular views. The he started fishing again, and after a couple more terrific (but fishless) dives, he finally went down again, and this time, as he splashed about in the water, we knew he had struck a fish. He rose with the fish in his talons in a shower of water droplets. Everyone watched enthralled as he carried it off into the distance. A champagne moment indeed. Almost three years ago now, but every second of that sequence remains crystal clear in my mind ~ even the aftermath, as he towered to a great height, still carrying the fish, and ~ just a speck now ~ circled on the edge of a black storm-cloud before disappearing. He was displaying, even in August, ever the showman. A wonderful memory of a very special bird. Sadly, we knew we wouldn’t be seeing him this morning.
Everyone is on board now. We’re leaving the Creek and heading out, just as we did on that day three years ago. And, amazingly, after just a few minutes out on the water, we spot an Osprey flying towards us. We know it’s not one of the two breeding males with nests nearby, because watchers there have sent us texts saying that they’re both still at home. So who is this? Maybe 09(98) or 01(09)? Hard to say. We watch him for a few minutes and attempt to follow him in the boat ~ a difficult manoeuvre for our good Captain! As the morning progresses we investigate all the places where an Osprey might fish, but we do not locate another one. Nightingale song floats out to us from the wooded shore line ~ we listen in rapt silence.
Back at Whitwell Creek, everyone disembarks with thanks and appreciation. The delicate aromas of sizzling Rutland bacon from Grasmere Farm, locally sourced eggs and bread rolls from the brilliant Hambleton Bakery draw us all in to HQ at Egleton, where we find Chef Stammers and other members of the team preparing our breakfast feast on outdoor stoves. It’s a real treat. Thanks and congratulations all round.
Finally I head round to Lyndon, where it’s day 36 of incubation at the Manton Bay nest, and all eyes are on the big screen every time there’s a change-over, checking if there is the merest hint of a crack in one of the three eggs. There isn’t. Men are pacing up and down. Women are calmer, saying things like ‘They’ll come out when they’re good and ready.’ I stare idly out of the front window in the Visitor Centre, over towards Lax Hill, and am suddenly conscious of an Osprey struggling against the wind with an enormous trout tucked in below. So 5R did go fishing after all! And what a catch it is! He takes it to the perch in Heron Bay, and starts to eat. His mate remains on the nest, calling expectantly. Michelle sits me down in front of the screen and video recorder with very clear instructions to ‘press the red record button’ if anything interesting looks likely to happen. I sit transfixed, finger poised to the point of painful cramping! At last, thirty minutes later, I hear 5R has left the perch and is on his way to the nest! I press the button and hey presto! I record a perfect change-over as the rear half of the fish passes from claw to claw, the female departs with it, and 5R settles into incubation. I am so proud of my recording skills that I show the clip repeatedly to everyone who enters the Centre, whether they want to see it or not! Fortunately Tim is impressed.
A Stoat runs along the grass, right in front of the Centre window. A certain member of staff shouts ‘Look, a Weasel!’ The rest of us exchange knowing glances. Chris brings in a copy of ‘The Sun’, containing an unhelpful piece of writing about the loss of 08(97) by Jeremy Clarkson. Tim is much happier when he reads the balanced and accurate report of the same incident in ‘The Times’, written by Simon Barnes. Talent and accuracy will always overcome the egotistical need to be controversial. At this point the two guests I have been expecting arrive, and after a chat in the Centre and the loan of binoculars for them, we walk down to Wader Scrape, where the female is still enjoying her trout lunch.
By the time we get back two hours later, she is back on the eggs, still twitchy, unsettled, and anxious. Can she hear soft peeping from inside the shells? Can she feel small hearts beating just below her own? There’s no knowing, but we hope it won’t be long now. Maybe tomorrow…..when I shall be here again.
Postcript – The first two Manton Bay chicks hatched on 24th May, shortly after Ken wrote this piece.
Midnight at Site B, Special Forces in the Crops, and a Scarlet Dawn……
It’s midnight at Site B. I’m sitting in the passenger seat of the 4 x 4, which has been strategically and expertly parked by my genial ‘boss’ for the night (Ray), so that in the event (heaven forbid) of any human intrusion during the hours of darkness, we can bathe the entire site in instant light by a simple switch of the headlights. I’m alone. Ray has gone into the hut to grab a couple of hours sleep on the camp bed. It’s a clear night, no moon but millions of twinkling stars, regularly criss-crossed by distant aeroplane lights. Even at this time of night I can see the outline of the woods and the nest-tree. My eyes are accustomed to the darkness now. This is just fantastic. I’m loving every moment.
Three hours or so ago, we watched together as 03 brought in a huge trout and started to eat it on a nearby perch. As the light faded he was still there, and we felt sure he would take it to the nest later on, so that his mate could have a break and a late supper. I am armed with a powerful night-vision telescope, a flask of coffee, and a warm blanket, thoughtfully provided by Ray. This is life at the sharp end of conservation! I am within a few hundred yards of a Schedule 1 breeding species, my senses honed and alert, ready for action against the forces of darkness…..
I switch the night ‘scope on and do a sweep around with it every few minutes, concentrating of course on the wood-edge and the nest tree. The crop field, by day a brilliant yellow, is now an eerie green in the ‘scope, with the stems moving gently in the breeze together. The effect is rather like a Van Gogh painting. The wood stands out starkly in the distance. Distant lights flicker. I lower the window and am immediately conscious of creatures close to me. The ‘scope reveals green rabbits, green pheasants and a green muntjac. I close the window again, not wishing to intrude further into their nocturnal wanderings.
A later sweep with the night ‘scope reveals several dark shapes scattered in front of me in the crop field. They’re moving around, and seem to be coming towards me. I try hard to focus on one of them, but it disappears, ducking down into the crop and then appearing again in a different place. Members of the Special Forces perhaps, on top-secret operations to seek out and destroy terrorist cells in Rutland? I look again. Definitely closer now, and grouping together for an assault on the 4 x 4. One good thing : in advancing towards me they’re coming away from the nest. My diversionary tactics are working. I decide to wait five minutes and then look again. It seems an age. At last I switch on again. They’ve moved away a little, but are still ducking and weaving in the wind-blown crop. Still hard to get details, so I stay switched on for a few more seconds and home in on one or two individuals who are closest to me. Either they are in some sort of camouflage kit, or they’ve got extraordinarily long necks and large flappy ears. One or two of them appear to have horns as well. Just at that moment a movement and a light behind me tell me that Ray has emerged from the hut to take over. ‘Did you see the Fallow Deer in the field?’ he says, ‘Lovely, aren’t they?’
My turn to rest now. I stand under the oak tree and listen to the sounds of the night. A Tawny Owl hoots, a muntjac barks. Through the branches I see a bat whisk by ~ too big for a Pipistrelle, but that’s the best I can say. Once inside the hut, I sit on the edge of the camp bed and, in the gentle light of the little lantern, munch a high-energy bar and a banana ~ food beloved of all eco-warriors. We’ve decided to leave the flaps of the hut open tonight, as it’s dry and not too windy, so as I ease into my sleeping bag I can see up into the tree, and the stars beyond. Bats flicker by. I set my ‘phone to beep at the required time, and drift into a contented sleep, conscious that I am sharing the hut with a myriad of small creatures, all going about their business of the night without any concern. Minutes later I am disturbed from this blissful rest by the very loud roar of aircraft jet engines. It’s not a passing plane, and the noise continues for several minutes. Haven’t all the Harriers at nearby bases been mothballed? Maybe they start the engines every so often to stop the planes’ batteries going flat…..I had to do that with an old car I once had. Or maybe….just maybe, the Special Forces have decided to call it a day now that their cover has been blown, and this was them making their getaway in a vertical take-off jet……I’ll check for scorch marks in the crop field when dawn breaks.
At 3.00am I’m out again. Ray heard the roar of the aircraft engines too, but cannot explain it. I decide not to offer my own theories, and he leaves for another rest period. All is calm and quiet. The darkest hour is just before the dawn ~ as someone once said. Just about an hour later, the sky in the east is showing tinges of pink, which gradually grow deeper, turning the scene before me firstly orange and then the most gorgeous scarlet-red. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. I want to preserve it forever, to paint it and take it away with me. And the bird song is incredibly loud, with every species imaginable chiming in and welcoming the new day. I’m in danger of experiencing a spiritual moment, when Ray emerges and reminds me that a red sky in the morning means rain is on the way. Together we watch the female Osprey finishing off the tail-end of last night’s fish. Even she has a rosy glow in this fabulous light.
We tidy up the hut, put the night equipment away, and fill in the log. As we trundle back in the vehicle, I thank my perfect host Ray for all his help in making the night such a memorable experience for me. He does it three times a week! Back at the cottage, where my car is parked, I sit for a few minutes just taking it all in and reading through my scribbles, most of which are illegible as they were done in almost complete darkness! Just one thing. I forgot to check for scorch marks in the crop-field…………..
A Dream of Royalty, and a Welcome Return……
Last night I had the strangest dream. Well, I say ‘last night’, but I think it must have been early this morning, just before I awoke, because it was still vivid as the alarm sounded at 6.00am. I dreamt I arrived at the Site B watch-point for my usual 8.00am start, and found Prince William and Kate Middleton in the hut watching the nest. The odd thing was I wasn’t at all shocked or surprised, but simply asked them if they’d had a good shift, and if there was anything to report. I don’t remember anything else, except that, instead of walking back by the usual route which we all use, they went behind the hut and simply vanished…..
The image is still with me as I park at the usual spot an hour or so later, and my imagination starts to work overtime. Didn’t I hear that the newly married couple would be spending the Bank Holiday weekend at an ‘undisclosed destination’ in the UK? What better than Site B, with its seclusion, peace and quiet…..and a little camp bed? Certainly no paparazzi here! And of course there is royal precedent ~ William’s grandfather Prince Philip visited the Osprey Project in the early years. ‘Lovely spot, Will,’ I can hear him saying, ‘Yes, take her up there for a day or two.’ No sign of an open-top Aston Martin, but of course they wouldn’t come in that, would they? Too obvious. There is a dark green Toyota here this morning which looks familiar. I pause at a gate on my walk to jot a few things down before I forget them. Just as I’m doing so, a small blue helicopter flies over quite low. That’s it then. They’ve gone. I missed them by minutes.
At the watch-point, Paul is carrying out the induction of a new volunteer. Very thoroughly. Best not to share my dream at this point. After the usual exchange of news, they depart, and I settle down. It’s an amazing morning again ~ chilly, but clear and bright. Yesterday’s high wind has calmed down a little. Both the Ospreys are here, looking relaxed and content. The log shows no evidence of intrusions today so far, and a small fish was shared about an hour ago. So all is well as we reach almost the mid-point of incubation. As always I divide my shift into hour-long sections, allowing myself a small treat on the hour. At 9.00 it’s a coffee and a modest biscuit ~ just as a muntjac passes right in front of me without a care in the world. The male Osprey leaves in a north-easterly direction at this point. A Whitethroat is singing his scratchy song every few seconds, and I locate him on the edge of the crop-field, rising into the air and descending again with parachute-like wings and tail. Another of my favourites, a Jay, comes and cautiously inspects a patch of ground just a few metres away. Over the two-way radio, I hear the watcher at Lyndon reporting a very obliging Grasshopper Warbler, which is reeling away from an exposed perch just outside Wader Scrape hide. I hope it stays until I’m there again. A movement to my left : it’s our male Osprey sweeping in from the south-west ~ the exact opposite direction to that in which he departed ~ with a silvery red-finned roach safely stowed in the undercarriage. He eats for fifteen minutes, and then delivers it to the nest. She takes it to the same perch he has just vacated. This is text-book behaviour. I mentally award them an A*.
Is it just me, or is everything extraordinarily bright today? My awareness seems suddenly heightened, all my senses more acute, my vision sharper and more defined. The sky is a superb, beautiful, cloudless blue, the trees various hues of brilliant green, the crop a dazzling yellow. I get a feeling ~ an almost tangible sense of anticipation ~ that something is going to happen. And it does….and for once it’s not the Ospreys which are responsible.
Suddenly the blue sky is full of Swifts, dozens of them. I’ve hardly had a single Swallow all morning, but then in a second the Swifts are back! And what a place to see my first Swifts of the year! On the walk back, I’m trying to remember the words of a brilliant poem called ‘Swifts’ by Ted Hughes. I stop by my favourite gate again, and with four graceful horses as my companions, I write down the few lines that I can recall :
‘Look! They’re back! Look!
They’ve made it again,
Which means the globe’s still working.
……………
Suddenly flickering in sky summit,
Three or four together,
Gnat-whisp frail,’
………….
They disappear as quickly as they arrived, pressing ever northward. Back at the parking spot, still no open-top Aston Martin. It was all a dream. But the Swifts, the wonderful Swifts….they were real.
An encounter with ‘Pandion’, Greek Myths and Metamorphoses, and a wriggly trout…….
Last night I was reading the diaries and letters of the 19th Century ornithologist Lord Lilford, whose Northamptonshire mansion and estate still stand near the River Nene just outside Oundle. In an entry for August 1883, he describes a meeting with an Osprey : ‘I had the delight of seeing Pandion soar over the park for ten minutes, and the following day he made two plunges at fishes on another part of the river……’ Quite a sight for the noble Lord, and a refreshingly enlightened approach in an age when such encounters so often ended with the ‘specimen’ mounted in a glass case!
No doubt Lord Lilford’s ‘Pandion’ was pausing to fish the Nene while on its way south. Being an educated man, he probably knew the origin of the scientific name ‘Pandion’, which was assigned in 1809 by the early biologist Savigny when he realised that the Osprey, whilst definitely an ‘Accipiter’, was significantly different in several respects from all other hawks and certainly deserved separate generic status. Unfortunately however, eminent though he may have been as a biologist, Savigny was less familiar with his Greek mythology. According to the story told by the 1st Century Roman poet Ovid in his ‘Metamorphoses’, Pandion was a legendary King of Athens, blessed with three daughters, all of whom came to tragic ends. The first, Procris, was ‘accidentally’ impaled by a magic spear hurled by her husband while she was hiding in a bush. The second, Procne, married King Tereus of Thrace, but he soon realised he had married the wrong sister, so he locked her up, cut out her tongue to keep her quiet, and told everyone she was dead. Then he married the third daughter, Philomel. Although she couldn’t speak, the mutilated Procne was able to sew and weave, so she made a tapestry telling the tragic tale and smuggled it out to her sister, who thought she was dead. In revenge, the two sisters then captured their tormentor’s little son, Itys, cooked him, and served him up to his father at a feast. Even the Gods on Mount Olympus objected to this, and intervened. Procne was turned into a Swallow, Philomel into a Nightingale (hence the old Latin name ‘Philomela Luscinia’) and the little boy Itys, though previously roasted, was revived and turned into a Goldfinch. The evil Tereus, who had brought about all this carnage, was transformed into a Hawk (species not defined), and his destiny was to chase the Swallow and the Nightingale eternally, but never catch them. Pandion was simply left to grieve. Why Savigny chose to name the Osprey after him remains a mystery.
I’m mulling over this strange tale as I walk to Site B today (April 26th), and wondering if I shall witness any of the shenanigans I’ve been hearing about, involving our own lonely old Pandion 09(98). No, he’s not around this morning, although I note our female is edgy, fidgety, and certainly not at ease, as she was last time I was here. It’s much colder today. Four Greylag Geese are doing circuits, round and round, and this annoys both the Ospreys. The female jumps off the eggs on one occasion as they pass overhead, but settles again as she sees her mate chasing them away. Once he is sure they have gone, he flies away strongly. I know that flight and that determination. His mate turns in the nest and stares fixedly in exactly the same direction. We both stay poised and alert to witness his return with his catch. And what a catch it is! About twenty minutes later, just as I am chatting to Tim on the ‘phone, he appears quite low over my head with a huge wriggling trout. He carries it to a nearby perch. As I make my way back at the end of my shift, I can still see him with his fish glinting in the sun…..
Back at home, I’m reading Lord Lilford again and wondering where it was exactly on the Nene that he had his ‘encounter with Pandion’ one hundred and twenty eight years ago. How lucky I am to have such encounters several times each week! I wish I could tell him about them.
