It's amazing that after all the years of watching sea eagles, I've never actually witnessed a maiden flight - until yesterday! Watching from Glen Aros, still searching in vain for chick no.1, I could see chick no.2 bouncing about on his favourite branch just to the left of the nest. He's been there many times before. Usually he then bravely launches himself off - and lands straight back in the nest. But yesterday at 1346, something was different. He seemed even more active than usual, more bouncy, more agitated. I could see his beak opening and shutting continuously, clearly screaming his head off at dad Skye perched nearby. At the distance I was from them, all I could hear was the wind in the trees. And perhaps that was the cue - the gusty wind. As I changed aching eyes, from left to right, glued to the telescope's eyepiece, at 1350, he flew - and kept flying - and this time probably more by accident than design it was away from the nest tree. He had officially fledged! I tracked him through the 'scope as he lurched up over the tree tops, then down, banked left, right, legs down, up again, before dropping like a stone into the soft grass. It had lasted all of 15-20 seconds but he was on his way. All I could see was his dark Bournville chocolate head against the pale moor grass. He looked from afar as if he was a bit startled by the turn of events and was looking nervously around him. Skye stayed where he was and looked on. A proud moment perhaps for him. A few minutes later, the chick half jumped, half flew up the bank to a high point and tried again. This time he flew for another few seconds and crash landed in a tree but at least he was off the ground. He may well stay there now for a few days to recover from his great adventure or he may have got a taste for it and will try again. The tingle of pride I felt down my back at his accomplishment was tinged with continued uncertainty about the fate of chick no.1. Although I heard them both last week, he still hasn't emerged into the open and until he does, we'll just have to be patient. Perhaps now with both out of the nest, we'll soon see them together? I looked back to the now flattened, empty nest which had been a safe home for our chicks for the last three months. It had served its purpose well. Frisa and Skye had built it strongly after all. We should have more faith in them! Looking at the now deserted nest, it was like the traditional closing scenes of the Big Brother House after the final eviction as the camera pans around the empty rooms. Feathers, down and bits of prey fluttered in the wind; some sticks were hanging loose beneath the nest; long forgotten voices and calls echoed round the forest. Fade up music. Roll end credits.
Except it's not the end! Far from it. A new chapter in their young lives is only just beginning. Stay tuned.
Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer
Gutted as you must be especially when so near to flegging, no wonder mum or dad whoever it was was looking down to the ground the other day. Has this ever happened before ?
It is such a shame that you were unable to get nearer to check at the time you were concerned, but obviously it is difficult with eagels. Would a chick have survived a fall from that height with injuries or would it of died straight away? You were right with your instincts that both parents had been acting strangly. Fingers crossed for the other chick. Thinking of your team at the moment. Jillian.
Late Friday afternoon update
I'm very sorry to have to report that the male chick at Loch Frisa who we all thought had fledged early was found dead today under the nest tree. He may well have fallen when part of the nest gave way. I'll write a fuller blog later. Meanwhile his big sister who fledged this week is now safely down by the loch side and being well looked after by Frisa and Skye. A real blow to everyone. More later. Dave