As I neared the cliff, the full force of the storm became clearer. There had been a rock fall as well and the entire ash tree which had once supported the nest had been torn from the cliff face, roots and all. As the chicks had plummeted earthwards at the height of the gale, they would have been followed by a deadly cascade of boulders, branches and mud. Out of breath and with sweat stinging my eyes, I clambered up the debris strewn slope. There were no calling adults. It didn't look good. I started my search and frantically parted patches of bracken and nettles in case a chick had crawled in there for cover. Half an hour later, I don't know who was more startled but on peering into a dark bed of nettles there were the big brown eyes of a chick glaring back at me, beak open in threat. It opened both wings and began to stagger off down the slope. I gave chase and rapidly threw my jacket over it to stop it in its tracks. I then calmed it down and was able to take a closer look. For its size I guessed it was a male. Amazingly both wings looked fine, the body showed no obvious injuries and he was certainly feisty as he tried to take a chunk of flesh out my helping hand. I left him quietly under the jacket for a few minutes while I built a small baracade of branches nearby to keep him safe. I ended up pretty much rebuilding the entire nest - albeit on the ground. Well, they sometimes nest on the ground in Norway I thought. Placing him carefully in his old/new/temporary home, I set off to look for the other chick. This time, I didn't have to look far. There was that bundle of feathers I'd seen from afar, right under the full force of a waterfall. It hadn't stood a chance. But as I got closer, it slowly, painfully, lifted its head and looked straight at me with sad, defeated eyes. You're alive! I think I swore out loud. It made no attempt to escape. It couldn't. Just too weak and traumatised to move. I suspected this chick was also a male but he was so bedraggled and wet that it was hard to tell. I bundled him gently into my warm fleece and took him back to the other chick. By this stage, I suddenly felt completely drained and needed a break too so we sat, the three of us, all wondering what was going to happen next. The second chick was shivering with the cold and wet so I did my best to dry him. Slowly he seemed to respond. Although clearly suffering from hypothermia, the second chick too seemed to have escaped any serious injury. As they both fell through the air in the middle of the night, their big but unfinished wings must have instinctively opened and slowed their violent descent. Then they must have somehow avoided the avalanche of rocks and mud raining down all around them. It was a complete miracle. By now both adult eagles were back and calling overhead in alarm. Here I was, miles from anywhere, no mobile reception, covered in ticks, getting eaten by midges and cradling two eagle chicks - at least one of them at death's door. All I needed now was a cunning plan.
Concludes Friday
Meanwhile, Mara & Breagha at Loch Frisa are well and venturing further afield. See the latest satellite map.
Dave Sexton RSPB Mull Officer
Dave Sexton, RSPB Scotland Mull Officer
Diane & Steven xx
rubbish_weather - before you leave such insults and personal abuse, you ought to take a look at the work that our RSPB officer has carried out on the Isle of Mull - Dave's work to protect not only the White Tailed Sea Eagles on Mull, but care for the rest of the wildlife of Mull is immeasurable. The success of the Eagles has been down to his dedication and hard work over a number of years, working together with other bodies and the community - you should check your facts first before throwing insults. I am too angry to write any more comments that I fear they would not be published.
Valerie