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I'm relieved to report that the chick (whichever one it was) was seen back feeding on the red deer carcase after the clash with the golden eagle and the golden eagle flew off unharmed. So 1:0 to Mara/Breagha!  We still have no new satellite data so the ID remains unsolved at this time. It's not that unusual for there to be brief battles between eagles of the same or different species at something as prized as a carcase. Usually the golden eagle is the more nimble and aggressive of the two eagles and the sea eagles patiently wait their turn. It's an ancient relationship dating back tens of thousands of years when sea eagles and golden eagles shared this land, long before early man got too involved with upsetting the natural balance of things. For 70 years or so after sea eagles vanished from Scotland, the golden eagles had it pretty much their own way - if they managed to avoid the ceaseless persecution in certain areas aimed at them. When the sea eagles reappeared in the mid 1970s after the reintroduction to the Isle of Rum, some people had unfounded fears that the bigger sea eagles would somehow force out the resident goldies. Needless to say this hasn't happened. The two species have re-established their in-built, healthy respect for one another and tend to give each other a wide berth. If anything, the goldies still give the sea eagles a hard time if they're in that sort of mood and the sea eagles generally move out of the way - rapidly. That said, both are capable of inflicting injury on each other if they get too close and there have been a few serious encounters. Hence my worry last night. But, like most big predators, if given the choice they'll avoid each other as they simply can't risk an injury. We still have as many pairs of golden eagles here on Mull as we did before sea eagles reappeared in their ancestral homeland and in some cases they both nest successfully within 2km of each other. So there's another myth about sea eagles on the heap. On Ardnamurchan, I suspect the goldie had already fed very well off the carcase before our sea eagle chick arrived. It put up a brief, strong defense against the young upstart but eventually decided to call it a day and let the sea eagle feed. I'm glad it did. Mara and Breagha need all the help they can get at this time of year. But perhaps next time the young sea eagle will be even more patient before moving in on the King of Birds - the golden eagle. Time will tell.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

Autumnwatch and the Mull Eagle Diary begins Monday 3 November BBC Two 8pm

The office phone rang late today. An excited, breathless Ricky Clark, from the excellent Ardnamurchan Natural History Centre on the stunning mainland peninsula just to the north of Mull, was on the 'phone. He'd just reviewed the footage recorded earlier in the day from their remote cctv cameras placed near a golden eagle feeding area. They beam back amazing live pictures to the centre for visitors to watch without disturbing the birds. Everything appeared as normal - fantastic views of an adult golden eagle feeding on a red deer carcase. Suddenly in the corner of the screen there was the head of another eagle - a young sea eagle - waiting its turn at the feast. The following turn of events has left us all reeling tonight and details are still coming in. There was a rush of wings, a chase, talons outstretched and feathers flying. One eagle entered from the left, another raced out to the right, then back again. Golden eagle after sea eagle, sea eagle after golden eagle. As the action developed at lightening speed on the monitor, it became clear that the young sea eagle had a satellite tag attached. It was either Mara or Breagha. As of 1100 tonight we don't know who. A positive ID of exactly which chick was involved will have to wait until the next satellite data is received. Worryingly, just out of frame, feathers and down were flying. We will review the footage again tomorrow morning to work out the complete sequence of events and to hope peace is restored in this wild land of the eagles. Another dangerous day in the life of our young sea eagles and  another valuable lesson learned - we hope without injury to either party. More tomorrow. 

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

Follow the progress of the Mull sea eagle family on 'Autumnwatch' BBC Two 8pm starting Monday 3rd , continuing Tuesday 4th and concluding Wednesday 5 November.

Also watch them on 'Landward' Friday 31 October 7pm BBC Two Scotland

I couldn't stay couped up in the somewhat compact RSPB Mull Office any longer! I'd done the reports and data entry I'd needed to, the weather had eased (was that the sun out there today?) and so I made a bid for freedom. By now it was late afternoon and I wanted to see if Mara or Breagha might come into roost at Loch Frisa after their trips away.

Indeed the sun did briefly emerge, casting an autumnal golden glow over Salen Bay and the old marooned boats. A heron stalked the shallows and a couple of smart drake goosanders were near Aros Bridge. I wondered where the chicks had been exactly these last few weeks, what had they seen and eaten, had they made their first kill?  I pulled off the track and scanned the distant hillside. Almost immediately I found Frisa on her usual mound, sitting relaxed and preening, virtually ignoring a few rabbits out grazing just down below her. Then a hooded crow calling loudly just by the loch edge made me tilt the telescope down and there was Skye! He was much closer but I hadn't even noticed him. The early evening light was catching him too, his pale head and beak and white tail just gleaming as he turned this way and that. He was in a tree above the water and he was staring avidly into the still dark ripples of the loch. A couple of times he half opened his wings as if he was about to plunge down - he was clearly seeing brown trout glinting occasionally in the peaty depths but then he thought better of it and settled down again for a spot more fish watching. Both Frisa and Skye were, at last, able to do their own thing after a frantic summer raising two hungry chicks. Now they could preen, enjoy the weak sunrays on their feathers and just gaze about their kingdom without the constant  food begging calls from Mara and Breagha. They really did look like they were making the most of it. Finally, Frisa roused herself and flew lazily off back across the loch towards their usual larch wood. I knew it wouldn't be long before Skye followed from his fishing perch. Sure enough, as soon as she had vanished from his view, he shook himself once sending snowflakes of fluffy down off into the air and he was gone. The down drifted here and there for a moment in the mini-whirlwind he left behind and then bit by bit it settled in the twigs and branches of his tree - always a good tell-tale sign to look for when on the trail of an eagle. I followed his flight path in the landrover and sure enough there they were perched together at the front of the larch wood. They'd landed so close together that when Skye tried to turn round on the branch to face the same way as Frisa, he almost pushed her off. They settled again, still preening, this time getting fleks of down stuck onto their beaks and then looking at each other as if to say 'you should see what you've got on your face'. Now with the very last traces of light fading Skye unexpectedly took off again and headed up over the trees and deeper into the forest to find a safe roost for the night in private. Unable to be apart for long, Frisa looked anxious and alert and a few minutes later she followed him. For a while she obviously couldn't locate him because her great dark shadow reappeared again. It was bizarre to see her flying in such low levels of light, like some giant prehistoric bat just clearing the tree tops. Suddenly she veered off, clearly having spotted or heard her mate and vanished into the gathering dusk towards him. No chicks appeared tonight. Just Frisa and Skye - alone at last under the stars on a clear and frosty night. Rest well.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

The last 'Autumnwatch' of Week 1 is on BBC Two Thursday night at 8pm. Next week, be sure to watch Week 2 with Frisa, Skye, Mara and Breagha starring in their own 'Mull Eagle Diary'.

OK, so our sea eagle chicks are not exactly likely to be migrating to Senegal to see Nethy anytime soon (but I'm sure they could if they wanted to!)  Mara and Breagha have come home - they just couldn't stay away too long. Yesterday afternoon, Mara was just north of Ardnacross just to the north of where I'm sitting writing this, riding out the winter hail and sleet squalls. He must have hopped back across the Sound of Mull when I wasn't looking. If it would only clear for a moment I might actually see him. Meanwhile, at about the same time, Breagha was perched on the open hill on the south side of the island at Loch Buie, a stunning and remote part of this fabulous island. Maybe they had a telepathic agreement to both come home together? OK, maybe not. It'll be interesting to see if, being back so near to home at Loch Frisa, they choose to roost nearby overnight. Whatever, it's good to have them back on this side of the water. I know we can't keep them safe(ish) on Mull forever but whenever they leave I know they'll be facing a big, bad more dangerous world out there.

The northerly airflow continues and 'winter's icy blast' has just blown the office door wide open. Despite having copious layers on (almost as many as the team did on Brownsea Island last night) it's not exactly warm in here. I have to keep the door slightly ajar so 'cheeky robin' can hop in and out at will whenever he gets hungry or whenever the next deluge of hail races across Salen Bay towards us, forcing him into the RSPB office sanctuary. Unfortunately, the latest gust also blew his biscuit crumbs all over the floor so the current invasion of woodmice will have a feast tonight. I hope they don't chew through anything essential like a computer cable. If it suddenly all goes blank you'll ----------------------------------------

"Autumnwatch" is here! Tune in for the next live programme tonight, BBC Two 7pm. The 'Mull Eagle Diary' films begin in Week 2, next Monday 3 November, continue Tuesday 4th and conclude Wednesday 5th November. For viewers who can receive BBC Two Scotland, you can also see Mull and the eagles on the next edition of "Landward", this Friday 31 October BBC Two Scotland 7pm.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

Mara is on his way! The latest satellite tag data from Mara, the young male sea eagle from Loch Frisa on Mull, shows he too has now taken a major step in his life and has left Mull. The data shows he is on Morvern on the Scottish Mainland. Meanwhile, his sister Breagha remains in the same general area of the Argyllshire mainland as previously reported. They have both now gone their own separate ways as they begin their autumnal wanderings in earnest. Map to be updated shortly. More news as we get it.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

"Autumnwatch" is coming! Tune in for the first live programme tonight Monday 27 October, BBC Two 8pm. The 'Mull Eagle Diary' films begin in Week 2, next Monday 3 November, continue Tuesday 4th and conclude Wednesday 5th November. Enjoy! 

The eaglets are never far from my thoughts. It's not that you can do much, if anything, about the challenges they will face now they are well and truly on the move. It's just that you worry about them and that's not going to change. Day by day, week by week they are exploring more of this wonderful part of western Scotland. It's what they should be doing of course. It's what we want them to do. But with every new flight, every new area of land, they will be struggling every day for their survival. I'm hoping that by now they have learned well from their excellent parents, Frisa and Skye. They must have done or else they wouldn't have survived this long. Even if their hunting skills are not up to much yet, they will be happily scavenging on any carcase they find on the hill or along the shore and that will keep them going for now. Mara was the first to show some spirit and spent time on the Ross of Mull, meeting another young sea eagle from last year and then, at last, he was joined by his big sister, Breagha (meaning 'beauty' in Gaelic). I don't know what it is about her but she had me worrying more about her than I did for Mara. I know you shouldn't have favourites but I confess, I think she's one of them. Maybe it was her initial reluctance to fledge from the nest and then her tendancy to stay close to Loch Frisa when Mara was already off exploring to Tobermory and Calgary. All I know is, she made me lose some sleep this summer! I was so pleased to see from the data and maps that she had also made that journey to the Ross and that she too was showing the first real signs of becoming independent. By nightfall, they often returned to more familiar territory to roost but one day last week, Breagha took that additional further step away from her island home. The storms that have raged while I've been away will have pushed her along on that journey and the Storm Force 10 winds that battered Mull yesterday (and which nearly cancelled our ferry home), will have probably forced her on further still. I await the next sat tag data with some trepidation. Already this autumn we have received some upsetting news of one of the chicks from a nest in Wester Ross. It was found, barely alive, in a ditch some miles east of the nest after what may have been its first major flight away from the parent's home range. Local wildlife care experts and vets did their best - but sadly to no avail. I haven't heard the final results of the post mortem yet but the location of the inexperienced young bird - very near some power lines - and the types of awful injuries it had sustained, suggested it had misjudged its flight or been blown into the power lines. A sad, early end for this youngster and a warning of just some of the threats that are out there for all our young eagles at this dangerous time of year. But Mara and Breagha are strong and healthy and have their whole lives ahead of them. They've been taught well and have had the best possible start in life at Loch Frisa. We don't know where these strong winds will carry them but with the data we receive, we will, for the first time, know more about the movements of young, dispersing sea eagles than ever before. I hope you'll join me on this journey with them. We'll keep you as up to date with their news as we are, with a few extra stories of our adventures with the sea eagles over the years thrown in for good measure! Meanwhile, for Mara - and especially for Breagha - their first major journeys really have begun at last.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

2115hrs

"Autumnwatch" is coming! Tune in for the first live programme Monday evening 27 October, BBC Two 8pm. The 'Mull Eagle Diary' films begin in Week 2, next Monday 3 November, continue Tuesday 4th and conclude Wednesday 5th November. Enjoy! 

While Dave is on holiday, here is a short update on the eagle chicks from the RSPB Data Unit. We’re the people who process the satellite data from the eagles (with the help of Roy Dennis) and assist Dave with updating the map on the web site.

The first piece of exciting news to report is that Breagha is the first of our two youngsters to make the hop from Mull to the mainland! The latest data we have shows that she made the journey on October 17 and was still there on October 18, so it was an overnight stay. In fact, it actually seems that both eagles are regularly not coming back to the nest to roost as they were before, but are taking longer and longer trips away.

Before she crossed the water, Breagha had been following in her brother’s footsteps (so to speak!) and had been travelling all over the island, including the Ross of Mull. The tracking data also shows that both chicks were near Loch Scridain around 5 and 6 of October, and actually crossed paths at one point, though probably several minutes apart.

If you’ve been following their journey on the map yourself, one thing you’ll notice now is that it has become a lot less cluttered. When we started this project, we just kept adding the birds’ current positions, but the map was becoming difficult to read because they were staying in the Loch Frisa area so much. Now we are only going to show the last 15 positions from each bird, and we’re hoping to soon put labels on these positions so that you can see exactly when the birds were in a certain place. It’s still a tricky business, as on a cloudy day, the tracker on the birds’ backs doesn’t get enough solar power to transmit many locations. The good news is that on a clear day, we get hourly positions from dawn to dusk. Just one more reason to hope for a sunny autumn! Let’s hope that we get some good data in the weeks ahead.

Stay tuned for more updates, and to see if Mara follows his sister to the mainland.

As ever, it was a report from one of the farmers here yesterday which alerted me to some exciting developments. Many of the farmers help me so much in my field work and monitoring and they also do their bit to protect the eagles and help make Mull the wildlife haven it is. This call came from a farmer on the far south-west tip of Mull, down on 'the Ross'. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd just witnessed but he knew it was worth reporting. I'm always very grateful for that.

He'd been out feeding his cattle and sheep on a gorgeous warm October day and was on his way back to the farm when he noticed two figures sitting down on the beach. Some late tourists perhaps enjoying some solitude on the beautiful, wind swept  expanse of sand? He looked again as he got closer. They weren't people - they were eagles! For a moment, he wasn't sure which sort. They were dark, more golden eagle-like but he'd never seen goldies behave like this, sitting together on the beach!

But his description from then on gave the game away and has now been confirmed by our satellite tracking. The farmer could see a short aerial on the back of the eagle. We now know that Mara was on one of his long distance (ok, not that long distance) flights away from Loch Frisa, all the way down to the Ross of Mull. But best of all, Mara has a new friend! He was sitting on the beach watching the waves come in and out with a male chick from another nest on Mull in 2007 - it was 'White E'. White was the colour to be seen in last year. We've recorded him on and off over the last year, over on the mainland, visiting other islands but now back on Mull. For a few days he'd actually been seen at Loch Frisa so perhaps Mara had simply followed him off on an adventure?

It's very encouraging to see Mara doing what young sea eagles his age should be doing. He's exploring his surroundings, a little further day by day and socialising wirh other immature sea eagles. You do sometimes wonder about their vocalisations: "I've got wing tags. Never did like white and why 'E'? What on earth does that stand for? Anyway, what's that on your back?" "Some sort of sat tag thing. No idea what it does. No tags for me but a nice silver and red colour ring. Like it?"

The farmer was intrigued by the whole story that I was able to tell him about the history , so far, of these two young birds. Nobody particularly enjoys seeing noble birds like sea eagles with wing tags, colour rings and sat tags but for a few pioneering individuals, it does help tell us so much about their lives and this helps us manage the project overall for the benefit of the whole population. Fortunately there are still many 'untouched' eagles out there for the purists to enjoy, uncluttered by various tracking devices and looking serene. For those chosen ones, they seem to get on with their eagley lives perfectly happily and blissfully unaware of all the carry on around them by the scientists.

But for these two youngsters setting out on life's (hopefully long) journey there is now at least one more person out there on the Ross of Mull who will enjoy hearing of their adventures and exploits and who will pick up the 'phone the next time he spots them - or others - over the coming months. Tonight the wind is picking up, it's wet and blustery and I hope Mara has made it home safe to Loch Frisa. We'll have to wait for a new set of satellite data to tell us - or perhaps a friendly farmer might report him? Or maybe, 'White E' has taken him further afield - even off Mull for the first time. Is this the beginning of that great five year wander before he settles down? What will Breagha be feeling if her brother has left and when will Frisa and Skye notice he's really gone? These and many other unknowns will surface in the next few weeks and we'll be there to report on them.

For me though, for now, I have to tear myself away from this amazing place as I'm travelling south for meetings tomorrow night; then it's half term and time for a short holiday with the family. I'll be checking sat tag data whenever I can access it and will be reporting back on their progress. Or if I can't manage it, I'll try and find some nice, kind colleague in our Data Management Unit who can to keep you posted. Thank you for all your interest, support and encouraging comments up to now. It's very heartening to know someone out there is reading all this each night! And to know how much you care about the work we do and the fabulous white-tailed eagles of Mull. All being well, normal service will be resumed...stay tuned! Until the next time...

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

2135hrs

Some of you may have watched the first 'Big Cat Live!' tonight. Some seem to be a little confused - to say the least! Well, sadly no, I didn't just make a 24 hour dash to the Masai Mara to join the Big Cat team but that didn't stop me re-living a trip to remember from when I was lucky enough to join them for a month as a 'spotter' on the leopard team. It was for my RSPB sabbatical which is a four week study break we're allowed for every seven years we work for the RSPB. If we take it, it must be linked to our wildlife conservation work in some way and this amazing opportunity came about because I'd helped the BBC NHU with their  'Springwatch' live outside broadcasts from the sea eagle's nest on Mull. So, just for tonight, as a brief change of pace and location, let me transport you from the beautiful, autumnal Hebrides to the hot, dusty and stormy Masai Mara and for me, the trip of a lifetime. 

It wasn’t a white-tailed sea eagle I was watching flapping off down river but at certain angles it could easily have been. For a brief moment my mind wandered back to Mull. How were the eagles faring? Had the chicks dispersed now to pastures new? Then the haunting cry of their close cousin, the African fish eagle, echoed out across the plains and I was back in the Mara in an instant. The large raptor swerved round a bend in the Talek River, white tail and all white head gleaming in the bright Kenyan sun, and it was gone.

The dawn chorus was already subsiding but the noises were still distinctly tropical. Glossy starlings on the ground around my 4WD, green pigeons in the fig trees, little bee-eaters in the river banks and ground hornbills booming out their deep, haunting calls. The starlings flew off from the breadcrumbs I’d tossed them out of the car window as my radio jolted me back to the job I was meant to be concentrating on: finding a leopard called Bella:

“Ok team, I’ve just spoken to a driver from Mara Intrepids camp who earlier saw a leopard near Fig tree loop…” It was Saba Douglas-Hamilton, BBC presenter on the leopard’s team for Big Cat Week. “…Dave, are you still near that part of the river…?”  Amazingly (and for once) I was in the right place and on the right side of the fast flowing river!  It seemed that just 30 minutes previously, a leopard had been seen by a vehicle full of visitors just a short distance up-stream from where I was quietly tucking into my breakfast of muesli, banana and coffee. I was on the case!

The leopard had stalked, caught and then dropped an adult Egyptian goose. This behaviour sounded more like the actions of Chui, Bella’s two year old son and co-star of BBC’s 10 year wildlife reality show, Big Cat Diary.  I was fulfilling a long-held dream and working on the series as a ‘spotter’ as part of a month long sabbatical from the RSPB.

I lobbed the remains of the breakfast out for the starlings and raced to the scene, a beautiful wide bend in the Talek River, one of the large tributaries of the mighty Mara River. The river banks are graced by enormous, beautiful fig trees, patchy croton bushes and long pale grass – all perfect hiding places for our leopards.  The bushes also proved to be a perfect hiding place for an angry and ancient bull buffalo which took great exception to me meandering my way through the vegetation. I have never ‘floored’ an accelerator before with quite the same feeling of desperation and adrenalin speeding through me as I did at that moment. I last saw him in the rear view mirror tossing his great head about with saliva and red-billed oxpeckers flying in all directions.

Quite why the leopard had dropped the goose we don’t know but sure enough there it was, out of reach, on a sand bank in the river, wings drooped, neck raked and bloody and looking very sick indeed. The chances were that the leopard wasn’t far away and he’d be keen to finish the job.  So I sat and waited…and waited…and waited. Waiting for sea eagles on Mull to do something interesting was nothing compared to this.  I’d got the call from Saba at 8.30am; it was now 4.30pm. Surely, the leopard had moved on by now? I started up the engine and drove forward 10 feet to the base of the perfect fig and Chui stuck his head up out of the grass and gave me a half-hearted, irritated snarl. He had been there, sleeping, grooming, stretching in the heat of the African day, all the time; quite invisible to everyone and everything. Even the birds hadn’t alarm called. I backed off. He finally ventured out of the grass, had another look at the goose (which somehow managed to summon some energy from somewhere and flutter off downstream) and then climbed the fig tree and flopped down again, spread-eagled across a sturdy limb.

We didn’t get much film that day but as I watched him closely in the tree against the backdrop of a setting sun with the cry of the fish eagle returning to its roost up river, that really didn’t seem to matter. There was always tomorrow.

With darkness rapidly approaching, this was his time and we had to return to camp for a cold Tusker beer, a shower, dinner and bed, ready for another 4.45am start. That night as the spotted hyenas whooped and cackled outside the tent and the hippos grunted and wallowed in the river, I wondered where Chui and Bella were then and what would they be stalking in the blackness of the African night…

Wonderful to see my old friend Bella again tonight, now 13 years old and looking a little moth-eaten around the ears but back to strength after her injury and still roaming the forests on the banks of the Talek River. Now looking forward to catching up with her son Chui...

'Big Cat Live!' continues tomorrow night BBC One 7.30pm

And no, I haven't lost track of Mara and Breagha in case you were wondering about this temporary diversion. I have news of Mara on another big(ish) trip away from home to the Ross of Mull and Breagha still happy and content to stay nearer to home. More tomorrow.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

2035hrs

I checked now and again on the pair during their 38 day incubation. Every time I crept carefully through the dense trees to my hideout, I always expected to find an empty nest with both adults soaring high above or perched together nearby indicating their usual failure. But every time, I could still make out that familiar sandy-coloured head of a sitting bird on the nest. I had to be so careful and quiet, any snap of a twig underfoot and she or he might come off. On one occasion, I startled a red deer hind in the forest and she galloped away and burst out of the trees right by the nest. The sitting bird was suddenly very alert but she must have realised it was just a running deer, nothing to be alarmed about and she settled down again. This was nerve fraying stuff.

A day or two after I'd calculated they should have hatched - if they were going to - I crept back to my vantage point, almost on hands and knees through the wet, peaty mud. I couldn't believe it. There was no bird on the nest. It had all gone wrong again. I looked down in disbelief at my soaked boots, then looked up again and back at the nest, thinking how best I could check the nest contents and retrieve the egg shell remains. There was an adult on the nest! I nearly fell over. It was the female. She was looking down into the nest, turning her head, this way and that, as if to say: "What on earth is that?"  Then I noticed she had a small item of prey in one foot. She steadied herself and started to feed, first herself and then slowly and carefully, she bent deep into the nest cup, out of my view, with a tiny morsel of food - and she came up without it. She was feeding a chick! Fantastic. They had got this far. Now only another 3 months to go... After a few minutes of watching her tender care, she clenched her sharp talons together to protect her young and then settled down over it or them to brood, rocking gently side to side, to get comfortable, just like a broody hen.

And so it continued. Visit after visit, they were still there. The chick getting bigger each time. We got passed the four weeks when their other chick had died. It changed from having a covering of creamy white down to a grey down and then by six weeks old, tiny dark brown feathers started to emerge. It grew from Day 1, when it would have been small enough to sit in the palm of your hand to a fully grown young eagle at Day 70 - just 10 weeks old. I held my breath every time I went to check. Once or twice, the nest had seemed empty but as I watched, a head would slowly look up or a growing wing would stretch out and I could breathe again. The parents fed the single chick well on fish, gulls, auks, sea duck, rabbits and hare. At Week 8, we had visited the nest, under special licence, to check the chick over, weigh and measure him (his small size suggested he was a male), ring him and fit his special wing tags which would help us follow him in the years ahead - if he survived that long. He was 'Yellow E' and he was a miracle.

Finally, at week 12, I visited again. After three months of checking on his progress every few days, this was the moment of truth. But this sunny morning, the nest really was empty. Could he have fledged already or had he been blown or fallen out as has happened to other chicks? I waited. No calls. No adults. After an hour, I couldn't stand it anymore and crept out of the forest and down the side of the burn opposite the nest. We must have seen each other at about the same time because there was 'Yellow E' glaring back at me, standing proudly on the top of the river bank a few hundred metres down stream. His dark chocolate plummage making him hard to spot. With a double bob of his head, he turned away from me and launched off confidently from the ground, flew a few more hundred metres and landed, rather clumsily, in the top of a big spruce tree. He was on his way. Nothing much I could do to help him now. I turned and headed back the way I'd come, leaving him to settle safe and sound in his new lookout. Both adults must have been away hunting so they never even knew I'd been there. I glanced across at the abandoned nest, now flattened (from the chick jumping up and down getting ready to fly) and littered with flecks of down, feathers and old prey items. What a different scene to what I usually find at the deserted nest of Territory 19 each year. For the first time in their lives, they had a miracle chick on the wing to care for. He'd be with them for many months yet. As ever, even though I'd played no part in their success, I left them with a happy heart and a warm glow inside. A coffee back at the landrover was going to taste very good this morning.

Update: Yellow E was still with his parents the following January. They were seen by a local Forestry Commission Ranger, all feeding together on a red deer carcase. And best of all, he has been seen back on Mull this summer, now aged two. Happy birthday and many happy returns!

Tomorrow: As the 'Big Cat Live!' team prepare for their first live broadcasts from Kenya (BBC One 6.10pm), for one night only, I'll be  swapping Mull for the Masai Mara and our big birds for some big cats. Join me on location as a 'spotter' for the leopard team during my RSPB sabbatical - the trip of a lifetime.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

1800hrs

For some white-tailed eagles, like Frisa and Skye, things seem to come naturally to them. They are a highly productive pair and take everything in their stride. But for some other pairs, nothing ever seems to go right for them.

The mature birds which occupy Territory 19 on Mull are just such a case. They are a similar age to Frisa and Skye but try as they might, year after year, they never quite manage to raise a chick. For them it had been ten long years of failure. The closest they came to success was one year soon after they first paired up. Their weak, scrawny little chick just never looked like he had it in him to survive - and sure enough, he died at just four weeks. That had been seven years ago. Every year since, they had built up a nest, they had courted, mated, incubated eggs - and then it had all fizzled out. I just expected it to happen now. Occasionally I suspected they had hatched but things had always gone wrong very soon after. They seemed destined to never quite get there. I really felt sorry for them as they went through the motions every spring. Just like Frisa and Skye, they had a very close bond and were always near to one another. One early spring day I watched them on the shore of their favourite sea loch. The male caught a fish and sat on a boulder eating it at a relaxed pace - nothing much makes them hurry! After about ten minutes, he looked up from his catch and across to his patient mate sitting on the other side of the bay. With that, he launched off in her direction, the remains of the fish in his talons and landed right next to her. Then he jumped to one side and left his gift for her to devour. It was a touching moment between two big raptors who are probably devoid of much, if any, emotion. We're told it's all instinct of course but at that moment, it seemed genuine enough and I thought it was maybe a good omen for the forthcoming breeding season.

By the end of March, I was sure they would try to nest at one of their favourite eyries on a big sea cliff. They may have failed there many times before but they were determined to try again. They had built up the nest and lined it with pale yellow moor grass. Laying eggs could only be days away. And then they vanished. They were not at any of their regular haunts, never on their favourite perches. For a while I actually feared the worst but then consoled myself that they had probably just failed again, even earlier than usual, and I got on with all the other monitoring and field work I had to do. It's a very busy time of year and there just are not enough hours in the day to devote to pairs which fail every year. When sea eagle breeding attempts end suddenly, they often seem to 'disappear' for a while and we're never quite sure where they go. Sometimes out of frustration they may turn up at the nest of another pair which is nesting successfully and generally get in the way of that attempt. They just don't seem to know what else to do.

Several week later, I got a call from a friend who had been out walking his dog and they'd decided to go off the beaten track and up a river gully. Suddenly he was aware of a very large bird overhead, his dog made a run for it and the large bird was making a strange type of call which he didn't recognise. He was pretty sure it was a sea eagle as he glimpsed it through the trees but he was more interested in getting his dog back which he eventually found further up the gully crunching on the bones of some dead seabird. All the signs he described - the alarmed bird, the calling, the prey - made my spine tingle with anticipation. All this had happened several days previously; he'd only now just remembered to report it. I got a rough grid reference out of him and within the hour headed straight for the area. With a thumping heart I set off up the gully. There were more tell-tale signs - lots of big, white, tufts of fluffy eagle down and shots of eagle splash over the conifer branches. Eagles had been here - and had been very active. Then, there were the prey remains - a fulmar's wing, a hare's foot and a pile of gull feathers. As I looked up from the ground and straight ahead, my eyes locked onto a pale movement in the trees ahead. I knew that colour of straw. I slowly raised my binoculars and there was the head of an incubating sea eagle. I froze, praying she hadn't seen me. Seconds later I began to back up, slowly, inch by inch, and eventually back behind the trees for cover.

But I had been spotted, maybe not by the female but I looked up and there was her mate high in the sky above me. He'd watched my every move. I had stopped just in time. He hadn't raised the alarm and now he could see me retreating. So this is where they had hidden themselves away. The Territory 19 pair had previously used this area as a roost and must have been sneakily building another nest out of sight while I was focussing on their main nest many miles away. I would leave them in peace now, fingers crossed, hoping for their sakes that finally, finally, this might be their year.

Tomorrow - the waiting is over...or is it?

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

2150hrs

Despite the great news that Scratchy was alive and well and teasing sheep dogs with fish bones in Roybridge, it had been a very long time since we'd heard any news of his brother, Itchy. In fact the last confirmed record I'd had was from one of our wildlife tour operators here on Mull. He was seen down near Loch Spelve, looking fine but that had been nearly 18 months ago. Where was he now?

One late winter's day I was checking an area in the heart of Mull where young sea eagles sometimes congregate in a kind of 'sea eagle youth club'. Sea eagles are far more sociable than golden eagles and youngsters often form autumn and winter roosts where between five and ten birds will come together at dusk. Just before the light goes, one can make out dark, eagley shapes drifting around above the tops of the trees, legs down in that familiar hang-glider flight. Sometimes they merge or clash and briefly talon grapple before carrying on. And then, one by one, they lose height, drop down and disappear into the wood to roost for the night.

Earlier this year, I was there at about 4pm, just as the light was beginning to go. There were three or four young sea eagles already sitting in the trees at the front of the wood. A couple of them were wing tagged. A yellow-tagged bird from 2006 and a white-tagged one from 2007, then in flew another with green tags on, from 2004. As I squinted through the telescope, I could just make out the letters on the tags and made a note to check on their ID's back at the office. As far as I could remember, none of them were Mull hatched birds. It's always exciting when you get to read a tag and then go and find out where it originated from, how far it had travelled and when it was last seen.

With the light rapidly fading, in flew another two immature sea eagles. I could see one had no tags but as I panned the 'scope along to the other newcomer, my heart skipped a beat as I saw it had red tags! There was something special about 2005 when Itchy and Scratchy were hatched and fledged. There had been such national interest in them and their welfare and I was always under pressure to report on their whereabouts. The truth was, I didn't know. Never a comfortable feeling. Often I would see red tagged youngsters but it would be 'Red E' from Territory A or 'Red X' from Territory B but it was never the ones I really wanted it to be: 'Red S' or 'Red I'.

Of course, true to form, this new arrival sat on a branch - facing me. I could see a hint of red on both wings but unless it turned sideways, I'd never be able to read it and I was running out of time with the light diminishing fast. Then it flew again but too quickly for me to get a lock onto the tags. It vanished into the wood and I thought that was it. I'd never know now. It had gone to roost. But I kept watching, my eye nearly frozen to the eyepiece and to my amazement, the bird flew out again and up over the wood for a couple of minutes before heading back down to the original dead tree. Again, it perched with tags obscured. This was just not my night. Just as the very last hint of light faded, it half lost its balance as it tried to scratch its face, ever so carefully, with one of those impressive talons. In so doing, it changed its position. It regained its balance and there, amazingly clearly considering the light conditions, I could read the wing tag at last. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was 'Red I'! I checked again. Yes, no question, 'Red I'. Itchy had come home to Mull after many months away wandering the coasts and hills of the Hebrides. I let out a loud "YES!" which the young eagles on the other side of the loch may well have heard. But by then, it really was too dark to see. Their shapes had merged in to the gathering dusk. They had gone to roost. Itchy had some pals to spend the night with and now it was time for me to go to roost too. My hands were numb from the cold and my eyes were watering from the chill wind. At least I think that's what had caused it. But I felt a certain warm glow at having located young Itchy. Bumping my way back along the rough track in the dark, I wondered what Itchy and Scratchy had been getting up to in their young lives. Had they done well and learned to hunt as well as their parents, Frisa and Skye, or were they still surviving on carrion on the hill? Had they had any aggressive encounters or close calls with other sea eagles or golden eagles? And when would they pair up and settle down themselves - and where? In the next year, that darkish beak would be turning pale yellow, the eyes would become the colour of winter sunlight and the tail would turn pure, snowy white. They would look magnificent and proud and would be a good catch for any passing female. Who could resist them?

Against all the odds, all the continuing dangers and threats in the Scottish Highlands and Islands today, both Itchy and Scratchy had made it through to sub-adulthood. Now they deserve to make it all the way. Please keep watching for them.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

2045hrs

I know many of you are thinking of the loss of Deshar tonight, as are we all, but as has been said, it's also time to think of the many positive things that have come out of this summer. It's time to concentrate our thoughts on Nethy, Mara and Breagha and to realise what an amazing, dangerous, wonderful and beautiful natural world we have around us. We are all focussing in on a tiny handful of very special birds - but there are millions more battling away out there for survival and with all our help in the RSPB, there is hope.

Itchy and Scratchy were the two famous sea eagle chicks hatched by Frisa and Skye during the BBC Springwatch broadcasts. What a year that was for all of us - and them! Simon King and crew followed their every move but what happened to them after the cameras had stopped rolling and they'd all packed up and gone home? Tonight, we'll catch up with Scratchy and remember that with all the sadness around about Deshar, there is good news out there too about our other favourite chicks. I hope this brief tale brings a little comfort and joy to those feeling at a loss tonight.

We had seen Scratchy on and off throughout his first year, sometimes on Mull and with occasional reports from further afield in Inverness-shire and on the Isle of Skye - home of his father. But by now, he would be three years old - an adolescent if you're a young sea eagle and a very interesting age. We've even had some young birds pairing up by that age, even though they're usually not old enough to breed successfully until they are four or five years old. But then the reports went quiet. I had not had a reliable report of him for over a year. After all we'd been through together, I couldn't help but worry. And he was such a media star that there were regular enquiries about his welfare. With no satellite tag, we couldn't know where he was or even if he was still alive. Unless someone read those cherry red wing tags and saw his initial, the letter 'S', we might never know.

For Springwatch this year, we wanted to make a special effort to find him and his brother. They wouldn't be travelling together now and both had been missing and unaccounted for for way too long. I decided to go public and expand the search with articles and posters in the local press along the lines of 'Have you seen this bird?'

One morning before heading off into the hills, I checked in at the office and checked my messages. There was one that stopped me in my tracks: "Oh hi - umm, we read the article in the Oban Times about your missing birds and think..." The answerphone tape went dead. Aaaaggghhhh!  No 'phone number, no news, was it good or bad? Who was it about? Just by chance I thought I'd check the last number dialled - 1471. It was a strange number, not from Mull. I pressed 3 and it rang...and rang...and rang. Then a lady answered in soft west Highland tones. In the background, children were playing, a dog was yapping and I think the radio was on. In the general confusion, I introduced myself and managed to explain what it was all about. Finally, after a few doors were closed and the radio switched off, she began to recount her story.

Every evening, her Border collie sheep dog had appeared at the back door of their farmhouse after being out for a wander. It started appearing with smelly old fish bones which it deposited with pride on the door step. Night after night she did this, much to the annoyance of her owners. One morning, enough was enough. The lady from Roybridge in Inverness-shire decided she would follow her dog away into the woods. As she remained some distance behind, the dog lead her through the trees and down to the river. She watched her crunching on bones beneath the trees on the river bank and decided to creep closer. Finally she caught right up to her and saw she was feasting on stinking old rotten salmon heads and bones. "What on earth are you doing?" she said out loud. With that, the collie tilted her head and looked upwards into the trees. The lady followed her gaze and nearly fainted with shock. There just a few feet above her head was an immature sea eagle. It had clearly fed on fish from the river which had spawned and were dying in the shallows. Then it had carried them up into the trees, feasted on the catch and dropped the bits and bones, one by one, for the very contented collie down below to find and devour. The young eagle seemed quite unconcerned by all this attention and as it turned to look, the lady noticed the cherry red wing tags and amazingly, the letter 'S'. It was Scratchy! No doubt about it. Alive and well and eating like a king in the Highlands. The lady was delighted, her dog was even more so and Scratchy was now a healthy young male sea eagle with his whole life ahead of him. Good luck Scratchy - we hope we'll see you again before too long.

Tomorrow: But what of little brother Itchy?

Deshar - RIP

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

2205hrs.