First of all my apologies for the delay in posting a new blog. It's been a very hectic week with interviews, admin and field work. The season seems to be kicking off earlier than ever! Most of the pairs of white-tailed eagles on Mull are busy refurbishing their nests or building new ones. One day I feel like I know what's happening with each pair, the next it's all up in the air again - literally. Needles to say Frisa and Skye are still leading me a merry dance and today I had the most unexpected encounter of all. Up on a ridge above Loch Frisa sat two adult sea eagles. Great, Frisa and Skye together. I'd better just check them out. I got the 'scope on them just a second or two before they took off. But in those brief seconds I did a double take and a sharp intake of breath: both birds were wing tagged! One, the female I think, had pink tags from 2003 and the letter 'K'. The other, a male, had blue tags from 2002 but there was no time to read the tag. At one point possibly a third unknown adult appeared and then an immature - and then a pair of golden eagles joined the fray so it was all quite difficult to make out what was going on! But I tried to follow the adult pair of white-tails who were very much together and as far as I can ascertain, may well be a newly established pair, currently of no fixed abode. Or do they have the Loch Frisa catchment in their sights? They were certainly in no hurry to continue their journey and even more worrying: where were Frisa and Skye to move them on? But I can worry some more about that this coming week and I'll keep you posted. For now I just quickly want to share with you a magical experience from this week...
I was back where I'd watched our 2008 satellite tagged male sea eagle chick from Loch Frisa the week before. I didn't really expect to pick him up again and he certainly made me work for it. After several hours of fruitless searching, I picked up a soaring sea eagle over Glen Forsa. As it drifted closer, I could see it was an immature and by its size I guessed it was a male. And then, as it banked and glided towards me head on, I could just make out that tell-tale back pack and aerial. Mara was back! I'm not sure who is following who anymore. He flew straight in and landed on the shingle spit at the head of the loch below where I was sitting. He ruffled his feathers a few times, then walked to the edge of the water, bent down and drank. The sun glistened on the water droplets on the end of his massive hooked beak and as they dripped back into the still, flat calm loch, they formed their own rings of bright water all around him. As I was drinking all this in I became aware of a big dark shadow overhead. Mara too was now looking up and following a second bigger immature as it circled lower and lower and I held my breath as it too lowered the landing gear and dropped in to land on the sandy bar opposite Mara. I nudged the telescope onto the new arrival, pulled focus, blinked a few times and let out a quiet whoop of glee as I could see another satellite tag! Big sis Breagha had come to visit. To see them both so close to each other and looking so well was such a relief. The tags and aerials were barely visible and were clearly no problem for them whatsoever. Although I'd managed to convince myself they would be okay and not inhibit the birds in any way, there's always a part of me that worries. But here they were looking fantastic and healthy and well fed. Breagha flew to Mara's plot and he obligingly gave way to his larger sibling. Once again I found myself wondering about what recognition there might have been towards each other. Of all the glens in all the world and they both fly in and settle in front of me. For an all too brief half an hour or so, the three of us sat looking at each other. The chicks - or should I say young eagles - occasionally preening and gazing around, while I finished my sandwiches. A tranquil scene of calmness after some of the dreadful winter storms they must have endured and for me a deep sense of satisfaction. Boy, those Marmite sarnies tasted good.
But it couldn't last forever. First Breagha, content that her little brother was doing just fine without her, launched off, flapped hard to gain height over the water and soared ever upwards. Then Mara took off too, perhaps initially ill at ease that she had gone as he tried to follow her flight path. For a short while they soared together before the quickening breeze took them in different directions. Who knows if they'll ever meet up again? She flew purposefully west, out towards the sea loch. He flew north into another glen. They were alone again - naturally.
Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer