View From The Shed by Shaun Finnie - THE NAME'S EYE...

THE NAME'S EYE...

I'd like to thank regular readers for sticking with me over the last couple of weeks. The previous two-part View From The Shed was incredibly science heavy and possibly a little hard going. Next week's is going to be a serious one as well so I thought that this time around I might get a little frivolous, if that's OK? I do like a good frivol from time to time.

You have remembered that it's the RSPB Big Garden Birdwatch this weekend, haven't you? Please make an effort to count the birds you see in just one hour over the weekend. Details of how to submit your sightings can be found at this link. It'd be great if as many of you as possible take part, that way we get a more accurate snapshot of Britain's birds and their population changes. Thank you. But unless you have a particularly large garden complete with a sizeable lake, the chances are that there will be one particular bird missing from your checklist this weekend.

Some birds are named after their distinctive body parts. The Black Necked Grebe is a good example, as it's a grebe which has a black neck. It could have been named after the yellow spiky feathers that fan out behind its eye as well but if they had to make a decision, then the black neck is as good as anything to focus on. Goldcrests and Firecrests both have sticky-up punk Mohican strips on top of their heads that match their descriptive names. They got those spot on. Long Eared Owl? Well that's not quite right but it's a good effort. At least you can see that whoever thought up the name had at least noticed the bits that look like ears. Even if they aren't really ears, they certainly stick out, both physically and metaphorically.

But then there's the bird that's the subject of these week's blog. It's a mid-sized black and white diving duck with one massive facial feature that stands out a mile. Following the above convention it should by rights be named the huge-white-cheek-patch duck. That big white beauty spot is its most obvious identification pointer, by a long way. You won't confuse it with anything else if you spot one. So I can just imagine the guy who went around naming things for future text books taking out his pencil and saying, 'That there duck with the immense white blob on it's cheek hasn't got a name yet. What shall I call it? I know, I'll name it after its tiny, beady, yellow eye (with a black spot in its centre), the eye that you can hardly see because of the huge white area below that completely overshadows it. I'll call it a Goldeneye.'

As you would. And the name stuck, and it became popular. So much so that it has entered popular culture for a reason that's completely non-duck-related whatsoever. Contrary to popular belief, James Bond author Ian Fleming never wrote a novel called 'Goldeneye' or anything of the sort. Yes, most of the early Bond films were based, in title and basic plot line at least, on his novels, but not this one. He did however write something much more important with this title. 'Operation Goldeneye' was a contingency plan developed by Lieutenant Commander Fleming of the Royal Navy's Intelligence Department (as he was then) for how the allied forces would respond if the German forces had invaded Malta during World War II. Thankfully, it never had to be implemented.

Much later, a much richer Fleming relocated to Jamaica and had a large estate built which he named after the operation. Once the film-makers had started running out of his novels to film, they created a brand new storyline for a brand new Bond actor (Pierce Brosnan) and named it after the estate. The GoldenEye of the film is a Russian space satellite weapon that can set of nuclear weapons. Spoiler alert: Bond stops it. He gets the girl too.

After Fleming's death, reggae superstar Bob Marley bough the Goldeneye mansion and grounds but now it's a hotel for the rich and famous. You can hire Fleming's own five-bedroom complex for around $10,000 per night, so if you fancy blowing your kids' inheritance...?

One final Jamaican non-birding fact; Sting wrote “Every Breath You Take” at Fleming's old writing desk at the Goldeneye estate. These blogs are nothing if not diverse. I don't just chuck them together, you know.

But back to the birds. In a few weeks these striking ducks will begin their courtship ritual. In the drake Goldeneye's case this involves throwing his head back dramatically like a petulant teenager attempting self-induced whiplash. Instead of moaning, “life's so unfair!” as the annoying juvenile human might, the duck lets out a bizarre growling chatter while doing the head toss, giving rise to its old folk name, 'Curre' – after the sound it makes. Other people called it 'Rattle Wing' after the clapping noise its wings make on take-off.

Official RSPB figures show that there are only around 200 breeding pairs in Britain, boosted by the arrival of about 21,000 migrants in winter. This is the Common Goldeneye, by the way. There's another variant, the Barrow's Goldeneye. The main difference between the two is that instead of the Common's trademark circular patch, the Barrow's has a more teardrop-shaped white blob under its eye. You won't see those in Britain very often though. To spot one of those you'd have to travel somewhere like Iceland. I'll report back in a few months...

In the meantime, see if you can spot a Common (though not particularly common around here) Goldeneye duck at Old Moor. There have been several on the mere since well before Christmas, usually to the right hand side of the Lookout family hide in the area of the Sand Martin box. Come and try to find one for yourself. I promise, if you see a male in full plumage, you won't mistake it for anything else. Now I just have to hope that they're still on the sightings board by the time you read this!