Blogs

...but in my heart it's spring" (Love Unlimited Orchestra 1973).

January 2nd message...just to say that I've just read a blog from Mark Thomas of our Investigations Dept about our campaign called 'Good Men Stand Up'. It's inspiring and I urge you to read it. It's on our RSPB web site and is the most recent blog posted. Hopefully the winds of change will blow across our countryside in 2009 and some more good men will stand up.

And thank you for your support...this is now officially an "award winning" web site! It was voted the 'Best Wildlife Website' in the 'ForArgyll.Com' Awards. Next stop, the Baftas...

January 1st Update...welcome to 2009!

Some satellite data for 30 December just in...Mara was near Mull's highest mountain, Ben More, maybe soaring over the summit? Meanwhile Breagha was down on the south side of Mull at Loch Spelve near Croggan. Wonderful to know they're still with us into the New Year.

More in the next few days...

Dave Sexton 

So Frisa and Skye, as expected, are keeping us guessing! One day they're on their favourite old nest of a few years ago; the next they're building at an entirely new location. I wish I knew what it was about a particular tree which attracted sea eagles to start nest building. Sometimes you can hazard a guess. Some are big and obvious, the biggest tree for miles around with views in all directions. But then they'll go and settle on a feeble stunted larch hidden in a gully with no outlook whatsoever.

But here they were flying back and forth with sticks to a new tree on the edge of the wood. I've seen them perched there a few times back in the summer shortly after Mara and Breagha had fledged. I think the twins often sat around on the floor of the forest and the parents perched above them to keep a careful eye on their early flights. Now here they were back in the same tree and building fast and furious. But why that tree rather than the thousands all around? We'll never know.

As has been the case for days now, it was sunny and frosty; perfect nest building weather. Despite the wintry conditions, Frisa and Skye kept busy for an hour or more until their enthusiasm subsided and they settled down to preen. I let my mind wander and to think ahead to the spring. If they carry on building in the same spot, what will the view be like for all our visitors? Where would be the best location for the hide? And which tree will be the favourite perch for the off duty bird? So many things to ponder and to plan for next year. The trouble is we can't decide on anything until the last minute as the birds themselves might not make their final choice until days before they lay. And so for now we just enjoy watching this behaviour and making educated guesses about what lies ahead.

As 2008 draws to a close, we can take a little time to recall some of the highlights and lowpoints of the past year. Let's get the low points out of the way first: searching unsuccessfully far and wide for the X's first nest site - which probably never existed in the first place; the scare Frisa and Skye gave us in their reaction to the nest camera (happily all sorted when everything returned to normal); the disturbance of the incubating female at Territory 2 by a photographer and the subsequent failure of that nest; the discovery of the dead chick at the base of the nest tree at Territory 33 when we all thought it had fledged successfully; the loss of our 2007 Mull sea eagle chick 'White G' to poisoning in Tayside.

And the high points? Mara and Breagha fledging successfully and surviving through the autumn; over 4000 visitors enjoying their visit to see Frisa and Skye at the hide; the contributions and support for this blog; rescuing Bonnie the Jack Russell; the successful prosecution for reckless disturbance at Territory 2; finding the nest and chick at Territory 40;  the best year for a decade for golden eagles on Mull; the reaction to and impact of White G's poisoning which continues still with coverage in the Scotsman this week; welcoming some of the east coast releases to Mull; knowing Itchy and Scratchy are alive and well; filming for Autumnwatch and simply following the day to day lives of the amazing sea eagles of Mull.

Whatever you are doing this New Year's Eve, I wish you a happy and peaceful night and a healthy and prosperous 2009. Thank you for reading this and for supporting our special birds.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

Okay so we never managed the walk on Christmas Day but 24 hours later saw us heading for the heart of Mull for a picnic lunch of turkey sandwiches, mince pies and mulled wine. The skies were overcast but with the occasional ray of light breaking through. The air is completely still and has been for days now. The glen looked deserted. Not even a buzzard broke the skyline. Kids rapidly becoming disenchanted after the promise of a great Christmas adventure into the hidden glen. Not even any snow remaining on the high tops. We didn't quite get the classic line "Are we there yet?" but it got pretty close. "Can we have something to eat now?" (as if they've not had enough); "Where are we going exactly?" and so on...

It was an eagle-free zone. After the sighting of six sea eagles here by the farmer a few days ago, I felt sure they'd be a few still loitering in the general vicinity. But as we bumped our way over the rough track and through almost dry river beds, I began to think it had been a wasted effort. "There's one!" A loud exclamation broke the air of gathering gloom and the mood instantly changed from one of tedium of yet another boring drive with daddy with nothing to see to one of excitement, adventure and hope. We all craned our necks through the landrover windows as the large young female sea eagle flapped heavily off round the hill and out of sight. Then above us were the two adults, the territorial pair from this area, steaming at full speed after the vagrant youngster. For whatever reason they did not like her in their patch. Then at the precise moment they vanished in the same direction as the immature, out shot another young sea eagle, this time with white tags, a young bird from 2007. It was heading fast and furious across the glen, hotly pursued by a golden eagle. By this time, we were all looking in all directions. The 'boredom' of the drive and lunch long since forgotten. And so it continued for the next half hour. As one eagle melted into the distance, another one appeared to take its place. At one point we all gazed to the heavens and counted and then re-counted. There was a towering column of raptors from the biggest to (almost) the smallest. At the pinnacle were three sea eagles (the two adults and one immature), below them was a single golden eagle, followed by a pair of buzzards, two hen harriers and a kestrel. Try as we might we couldn't quite get it all to rhyme with "...And a Partridge in a Pear Tree". Go on, you try it!  Of course, in amongst all this excitement was the usual army of hooded crows and a scattering of ravens for good measure.

Then, as quickly as it had assembled, the tower started to disperse to the four corners of the glen. The sea eagles in one direction, the goldie in another. The harriers went in two different directions - clearly of no fixed abode - leaving only the resident buzzard pair and kestrel. They carried on hunting where they'd left off before they'd been rudely interrupted by the mass trespass into their domain. Finally it was time for our delayed lunch beside a ruined croft and some old byres. By now it was late afternoon and the light was starting to go. It was time to head for home and a warm fire - but we were in for one last, very special treat. Out from the old byre floated two barn owls, one following the other's route out across the hillside. We followed their pale forms and light, bouncing flight until they blended into the gathering dusk and were gone. A family trip with daddy to see eagles (oh no not again - yawn) had started with grumbles about wanting to watch High School Musical (1,2 or 3?), that the Nintendo DS wasn't working properly and ever louder pleas to stop for lunch. It had ended after a magical encounter with a 'sky full of eagles' and the sight of beautiful, if ghostly barn owls floating above the bracken with the children's eyes wide open in amazement. This secret, hidden glen had worked its Christmas magic once again.

Here's hoping you're all enjoying your festive season.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

It used to be Blondie's wood. Regular readers of this blog may recall an earlier posting titled 'The blonde bombshell'. You can read it again in the archive blog section for September. It's the place where it all began for Scottish sea eagles. The place where the first wild bred chick began his life. At this time of year with the leaves all long since blown into the deep waters of the loch, the wood seems a stark and lifeless place. Centuries of wild Hebridean storms have taken their toll on the once proud oak trees. If they are not on their sides or wrenched from their spreading roots they've certainly had their best years. Few young seedlings are making it through. The sheep and deer enjoy those shoots the best of all and who can blame them, especially in mid winter? By the time they come to start sprouting leaves in April they have been nibbled to the edge of life. And yet we seem to have been forecasting the demise of Blondie's wood for a long time now but each spring it does burst back into life. For a few weeks as the fresh green leaves appear it embodies the very essence of new life, of new hope. Before long the canopy is alive with singing wood and willow warblers, redstarts and tree pipits. But before we get too carried away let's return to today...late December...a very different scene.

From across the loch, the only greenery in view is a scattering of holly trees. Their red berries have all been gobbled up by hungry fieldfares and redwings as they passed through this glen a month or more ago. But the shiny, spiky holly leaves - a sign of life amidst all the winter browns and greys - help me to pinpoint the eagle's nest from last year. From my watch point it looks untouched and I doubt they'll be back there again next year. The other feature of this veteran oak is the tangle of ivy which grows up the entire trunk and only ending where it begins to engulf the eyrie. I've noticed other 'eagle trees' have also had ivy growing up them. I've no idea why or if it even figures in the choice of tree for eagles to build in but there seems to be something about it which attracts them. The pair of white-tailed sea eagles which now occupy this home range are of unkown origin. When Blondie disappeared in 2000, she was replaced the next year by an untagged and unringed female. In 2003 when Blondie's mate also vanished just as his new female's eggs had hatched, we knew there was little chance of the chicks surviving. By the following year she too had repaired with an untagged and unringed adult. So we now have an entirely new pair of birds occupying this historic territory. They have been successful in most years since, usually fledging one chick and usually from a nest in an oak tree with ivy creeping up the bark. They obviously like it. Today there was no sign of them both but I could just make out some fleks of down on the branches of their main roost tree - another ivy clad oak - so I know they're not far away. Perhaps they were up river with the band of immatures which frequent this area. The local farmer had seen six there on the river bank recently, probably feeding on a carcase in the burn or some fish remains. I'll need to go and check that area in the next few days to see who is there. Maybe there'll be some wing-tagged youngsters who I can identify. It might be a good trip and a bracing walk for Christmas day - if I can persuade the family to venture out after lunch!

I see we're the 'Top Story' on the RSPB's Home Page over the festive period! I'll be keeping you all up to date on island life and days with the eagles for the next couple of weeks. This time of year can be very busy for the big birds and we often get a good clue about where they might nest so there's no let up in the quest for locating the likely sites for 2009. We have news of probably Mara or Breagha up on the Isle of Rum with other data now updated on the map showing Breagha on Morvern. I'll be following that up. So lots going on and I hope you'll keep checking in. Thank you to everyone who has read and been part of the Mull sea eagle blog so far this year. If you've just joined in, do say hello in the comments section. It is always good to hear from you. Thank you also to all the Mull Eagle Watch volunteers, partner organisations, locals and visitors who all do so much to support the eagles and to the farmers and land managers who help us so much throughout the year. We couldn't do it without you all. Wherever you're reading this, I wish you a peaceful and happy Christmas. Why not stay tuned for all the latest news?

The holly and the ivy, When they are both full grown, Of all the trees that are in the wood, The holly bears the crown 

Oh, the rising of the sun, And the running of the deer, The swaying of the mighty oaks, Eagles soaring far and near...

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

We've had some really bleak midwinter weather here on Mull lately but every now again, it all blows through and we're left with a stunningly beautiful day. There is invariably snow left behind on the high tops of the Ben More range and the clarity of the air can be breathtaking. It all makes you instantly forget the endless days of grim wet and wind which can make your spirits sag.

That's why one day recently was so special. We woke to a fabulous sunrise over the hills of Glen Forsa - a real deep burning red outlining the peaks and showing off their frosted toppings to full effect. I had a feeling it was going to be a good day. And I wondered if our star sea eagle pair, female Frisa and her mate Skye, might take this rare wintry opportunity to do a bit of early spring cleaning.

As I rounded the corner of the forestry track I had to stop and just drink in the scene before me. The sun was now higher in the sky but the bottom of the glen was still in the shade and shrouded in mist. All very atmospheric but it got better. As the sun edged over the next ridge, the mist started to lift from the surface of the loch and danced and swirled around in amongst the trees.

By now the spruces and larches were backlit. Every single rain drop on the branches from the overnight showers was illuminated and they shone like a zillion jewels from top to bottom. Who needs a Christmas tree? This was Mother Nature having a go herself but this time she'd lit up a whole plantation!

As I scanned the trees, it didn't take long to find that tell-tale blonde head of Frisa shining brightly in the sunlight. She looked serene; her wings were half open and slightly drooped to help her dry out after the rain. She was watching a small party of ducks - teal and wigeon - in the shallows which kept disappearing and reappearing in the mist. A couple of little grebes were also there and a lone cormorant was on the island, his wings fully outstretched, quietly digesting his brown trout breakfast.

Frisa then started staring intently further up in the forest. I followed her gaze and alighted on Skye just as he began to call. Frisa answered him immediately and for a few seconds the cacophany from the pair of them shattered the early morning peace. A few seconds after they'd finished their duet, Frisa flew from her tree by the loch, circled to gain height and then headed straight for him. He too then took off and they both flew into the trees and out of sight...I had a feeling they were up to something.

Sure enough, as I carefully made my way through the forest, I found them both on a favourite old nest. They were busy rearranging the sticks, pulling some out and dropping them, repositioning others. They were being very particular about the ones they wanted and those they didn't!

After a few minutes, Skye launched off again and dropped down to the forest floor. I could just make him out walking about in the gloom, carefully selecting his building materials. Then up he came again carrying a large branch, weaved his way expertly through the trees and arrived with his prize at the nest. Frisa took it from him and added it to the pile. Over the next half an hour, Skye repeated his flight several times and on two occasions Frisa joined in - both returning with new nest material. On one trip, Skye tried to grab a branch still attached to a tree as he flew by but it didn't break off despite his strength and he flew on to search for easier sticks.

Eventually, this brief frenzy of nest building subsided and they sat together in the nest admiring their work. For a few seconds, Skye took one of Frisa's flight feathers in his beak and preened it as if it was his own. They called loudly to each other again and at one point Skye went to jump on her back. She was having none of it and flew from the tree back down to her lochside perch. It was still way too early for that sort of thing.

Skye continued to fiddle about with some sticks for a few more minutes but then the hooded crows discovered the love nest and started to irritate him. By this point, he too had had enough of this early courtship session and headed off across the loch. The mist too had vanished completely and there was a hint of threatening looking weather approaching from the west. It was time for them to get back to the serious task of surviving the winter. Spring is still a long way off.

Sat tag update...a call this morning from Roy Dennis of Highland Foundation for Wildlife to say the latest data he's just received shows both Mara and Breagha on Mull, in the south of the island at 1800hrs last night, presumably at roost. Perhaps they've met up again or are coming home for Christmas? More detail once we've analysed the data.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

It was a flat calm day, not a breath of wind. Not exactly ideal eagle weather you'd think. They just can't get the lift they need from the air currents to make soaring easier. Usually they sit around alot in conditions like that just waiting for the wind to pick up. But what do I know?

Just as I was sitting there thinking nothing would show, first one, then a second golden eagle cruised through. They were both quite low, the light was crystal clear and the sun illuminated their golden mantles. I know I go on about the white-tailed eagles but seeing those two birds in those perfect conditions was just magical.

I was almost converted! I was just beginning to believe all the biased hype of the golden eagles being the sleek, majestic hunters of the skies while the white-tails are the lazy, scavenging vultures which sit around all day waiting for things to die or stealing prey off others. As if!  As I wrestled with this dilemma, the golden eagles moved on, only to be replaced in the clear blue skies by a stunning adult white-tail, soaring high over the sea. Just breathtaking. How could I have doubted them?

I could make out the blue wing tags. Blue X was back but he was alone today. He soared for a full half hour before setting his wings in that familiar determined position and gliding purposefully to the east. I lost sight of him behind the mighty spruce trees and thought no more about it. But just a few minutes later the loud, unmistakable sounds of sea eagles calling rang out round the cliffs. It always makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It's a  primeval, haunting call. Does it for me every time.

This needed a closer look. I headed towards the calls, pushing my way through thick conifers and nearly getting an eye poked out in the process as I emerged cautiously at the top of the cliff. And there, this time not a few metres apart but firmly side by side were Blue X and his new mate Green X. They looked very together. It had been several months since that first encounter. She had clearly set her sights on him and wasn't going to let the small matter of her young years be a barrier.

Birds pairing up at just two years old is very unusual and this was a whole new territory for Mull after years of stability. It was a very exciting day for me - even though I knew there would now be a long wait for any sign of nesting. They spent the afternoon shooting out from the cliff and down to the sea after mackerel, time and time again. The male was the more skilled and caught several fish, eventually leaving one for his mate to feast on. Now I knew it was serious.  

Two years on, the age difference clearly meant nothing to them and they are still very much an item. Green X is now a very mature looking four+ years old. I've watched her moult from a mottled, untidy brown youngster into her near adult plumage and she is one good looking bird. Blue X clearly thinks so too! The goldies are still there and adapting well to their new neighbours. This year the X's managed to throw a few sticks into a tall spruce but it came to nothing. But next year our hopes are high. 2009 could be their year for a first nesting attempt. They're still covering a huge range spanning the island and the mainland so it's anyone's guess where they'll finally settle.

From that nervous first encounter on the beach, their young bond has endured winter storms, territorial disputes, the 'neighbours from hell' and the long passage of time. So for Blue X and Green X there isn't quite a result just yet but they show a lot of promise. Their long life together is only just beginning.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull officer

News just in for Mara: a few days ago on December 8th he was roosting at Glencripesdale on the south side of Loch Sunart. He had travelled from Glengorm on Mull where he was a couple of days prior to that. The area he roosted in is one of woodlands and cliffs within a National Nature Reserve. He's clearly roving around between Mull and the mainland. Looking forward to news of Breagha soon. Conclusion to the X-Factor eagles tomorrow...

His was a lonely vigil. Blue X was a male chick from a nest on Mull in 2002. In his early years he did what all young sea eagles do and drifted far and wide, up and down the west coast of Scotland. But by 2006, as a sub adult aged four, I started to see him on a regular basis whenever I visited a distant part of northern Mull.

He was always alone. The resident pair of golden eagles gave him a hard time whenever he glided into view and he always retreated as fast as he could - back the same way he'd come. His batchelor life saw him cruising the cliff tops, riding the gales and always dining alone.

But one January 1st, he looked like he had invited a few friends round to celebrate the New Year. There he was circling high over the sea cliffs and beneath him were six other immature sea eagles. Perhaps there was a dead deer in the forest or a seal on the beach that was attracting them all in from miles around for their Hogmanay feast.

They jostled and chased each other in the crisp winter air. Blue X tried to look like he was in charge with all these young upstarts in his territory. He was very tolerant of them; perhaps he actually welcomed the company? Unlike golden eagles, sea eagles are sociable birds and regularly come together in winter roosts.

It was the winter after Itchy and Scratchy had fledged from Loch Frisa and I'd not seen Itchy for months. All of a sudden there he was flying beneath me as I sat on the cliff top trying to count all the eagles around me and to occasionally read a wing tag in flight. No easy task but with Itchy there was no mistake. His red tags and letter 'I' were easy to read as he drifted passed me, looking straight at me at one point. As my eyes locked onto his, I whispered "good to see you boy" under my breath. It was great to see him doing so well and in the company of so many other youngsters.

One of the other young eagles was a larger bird with green tags from 2004. Clearly a female from her size and showing the lighter plumage of a two year old. I just could not get a good enough view of her tags to read them properly.

A few days later I returned to the same spot hoping to see them all again but I suspect the carcase had long since been finished off and the skies were empty again - except that is, for Blue X - back on his lonely beat. He had been abandoned by all the party go-ers - or so it seemed. As I watched him disappear behind the trees, out from the cliff face flew a second eagle. I thought it was the same green-tagged bird I'd seen the other day. She flew out from directly below me and I had a good clear view of her tags.

It was Green X. She followed Blue X's flight line exactly and also vanished behind the trees. Later I checked on her identity. She too was from a Mull nest, a different one to Blue X, and was just two years old. I retraced my steps, hiked over the ridge and stopped for a while to eat my lunch and to scan the coastline below. The sound of gull alarm calls alerted me to something down near the point. There, sitting, a few metres apart were Blue X and Green X. Surely, just coincidence. She was way too young to even think about pairing up - wasn't she?

Next time - the latest chapter in the lives of the eagles with the X-Factor.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

Weekend sat tag update:

As hoped our male sea eagle juvenile Mara has popped up with a good signal on 4 December. At 0723, as dawn was beginning to break, he was a few miles west of Tobermory in the north west of Mull not far from Glengorm castle. That is probably where he spent the previous night (in a Sitka spruce plantation not as B&B in Glengorm Castle which is very nice but he prefers to roost in trees). I'm heading east to the snowy Cairngorms this weekend so more blog updates next week.

Back at Wings over Mull, the poorly buzzard was stabilised and his wounds dressed. He was kept snug and warm overnight before Sue could get him on the ferry to see the vet in Oban. Despite the ferry being booked up, CalMac did their best as usual; they moved things around, found a cancellation and managed to squeeze the car on carrying its precious cargo.

The amazing vet in Oban was well used to Sue arriving with injured birds of prey and he gave his time freely. After x-rays, an hour long operation where the vet used techniques usually applied to eye surgery, he administered anti-biotics and then bandaging to hold the damaged wing in place. Once he had recovered sufficiently well to be moved again, he was allowed home into the care of Wings over Mull.

And there he stayed for eight long weeks, day by day getting stronger and stronger. They kept all human contact to a bare minimum apart from occasionally redressing his healing wound. Amazingly the x-ray showed he had not broken his wing despite dangling and twisting on the metal spike for so long. Everytime I visited I would nervously ask how he was, always knowing how quickly sensitive birds of prey can suddenly take a nose dive after looking like they're improving. But everytime, Sue would respond with a smile and a 'he's still with us and doing well'.

Occasionally I was allowed a sneaky peek at him through the spyhole and the sight which greeted me filled me with hope and reassurance. There he was now sitting upright like a proper buzzard, his bandages off and he was holding his wing in place. In front of him were the remains of his last meal which he'd devoured with gusto.

His strength was returning rapidly now. Occasionally he could be heard calling to his wild cousins outside who would answer back, never quite knowing where the call was coming from. And most importantly he was trying to exercise his wings again which was the best sign of all. It was time to move to the next stage.

We all continued to believe that one day he would be returned to the wild where he belonged but to do that he would need to be transferred to a bigger aviary where he could build up his flight muscles again and get his geography sorted. We needed a suitable release site and it wasn't long before another farm at Crannich in Glen Aros, not far from his original territory came forward with an offer to site the release pens.

The building materials were purchased or donated and the large aviary was duly built by a small, hardworking team of volunteers including the island's police sergeant! Then, when the time was absolutely right and the vet had given him his final health check, the young buzzard was placed one night into his new temporary home. One step closer to freedom.

We can only imagine the senses and anticipation he experienced when, as dawn broke, he looked out through the mesh and for the first time in months could see the open hills and forests beyond. Food was sneakily positioned inside his aviary without him knowing where it came from. On some nights Sue slept in a tent on the hillside nearby to watch him at first light to see how he was behaving and when she was sure the time was right, the big day for the release finally arrived.

It had been a long journey for one unlucky but lucky buzzard on Mull. His recovery had involved an international corporation in BT, a major transport company in CalMac, the skills of a vet, farmers, Strathclyde Police, RSPB, volunteers and most of all the care and dedication of Wings over Mull. Was it really all worth it? Why devote so much energy and time for one common buzzard? Well, in a way, that's not the point because there isn't really a choice to be made in such circumstances.

People want to help when a fellow creature is in distress and they don't think twice about offering their services. It's one of the very good bits of human nature and we'd all be in a far sorrier state if it didn't exist. Some rescues are not successful of course but each case is different and although RSPB does not have the expertise to operate bird rescue centres ourselves we work closely with the SSPCA, RSPCA and other private centres who do so much good work for Britain's birds and other wildlife.

One bright morning in late summer, the fully recovered buzzard blinked in the dawn sunshine as he gazed about his enclosure. But something was different. There was no mesh holding him in any more. A window on a new world had been opened for him. He hesitated at first and jumped from perch to perch and then alighted on the threshold to freedom. With barely a moment's thought, he was away, out across the glen, flying strongly. He landed well in some trees and looked all around him to get his bearings. The young buzzard was home again. It had all been worth it. When everyone pulls together and with a little help from Mother Nature, great things can happen.

Footnote: items of food were put out for him for several weeks afterwards around the release cage which he readily took but he slowly weaned himself off that and started to catch his own prey again. He had a BTO ring on so was easily identifiable. As the weeks passed he was seen less and less and his prospects looked good. Whenever we drive up Glen Aros now, we see buzzards aplenty but rarely get a good long view of their legs to see if one is ringed. But whether any one of them is 'the' buzzard or indeed his offspring we may never know but we're sure he's out there somewhere soaring with the eagles over the mountains of Mull.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull Officer

Contrary to popular belief, it's not only eagles we care about here on Mull. Calls from islanders and visitors to our local bird hospital (at Wings over Mull), the police or me at the RSPB are about everything from otters to owls, from herons to gulls. On the mainland, the Scottish SPCA would respond but here on the island we have to make do as best we can. So when the call came in early one morning about a bird in desperate need of assistance on the other side of the island, there really was no hesitation.

The call was from a farmer's wife near Dervaig. Her husband had driven out that morning to feed his sheep and he'd noticed a bird hanging from the telephone wires above the farm track. He was sure it was a buzzard. He couldn't reach it or help himself but he knew a few people that could. The farm is about an hour's drive from me and in my trusty old landrover I'm afraid there's no rushing allowed and no blue lights on the roof but we made the quickest progress we could. On these single track roads you never know when a sheep or deer is going to bound across in front of you so you have to take it very carefully.

I had good directions from the farmhouse and went straight to the spot up a lonely, rough track through the forest. The sight which met me made me whince. Suspended from the telephone line by a torn and bloody wing high above the track was a beautiful but terrified buzzard - perhaps one of this year's youngsters. I couldn't bare to look and everytime I made a movement the poor bird struggled all the more and got itself even more entangled. So having asessed the situation, I retreated round a corner and out of sight to make the first of several calls.

First on my list of course was Wings over Mull. They were on their way. It would take them about an hour to arrive. Next was Finlay our local Strathlyde Police officer who I knew would have the direct line for the island BT engineer. Finally, just in case everything else failed, I called BT itself. Fearing the worst with a BT helpline number, I actually got through to a real person and a very helpful one at that. Trying to explain my position in a remote part of a west coast island with a buzzard hanging on the line to a bemused customer services operative was quite a challenge.

But give him his due (and it was probably the most interesting call he was going to get that day) he said he would take my details and 'pass them on'. Literally a few minutes later, the local engineer called me on the mobile. He'd been contacted by the police and his BT head office! He abandoned whatever job he was on and headed for Dervaig. The rescue was in motion. It put my faith back in human nature.

Shortly after, up the track came Richard Dewar from Wings over Mull and Mike the BT engineer with all the kit to reach the stricken bird. But as we prepared to launch the rescue bid, the buzzard made one final, desperate attempt to free itself. I almost had to look away as I saw it wrench itself away from the sharp wire spike near the end of the line. I watched helplessly as it fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. The stamina this bird had for self-preservation despite his awful injuries was staggering. He lurched off into the bracken for a few metres but finally gave up and lay panting, beak gaping, eyes wide and staring at his would-be rescuers. Even from where I stood, I could see one wing was badly torn with a gaping wound, his feathers now matted with blood.

Very gently, Richard's gloved hands eased him out of the damp vegetation for an initial inspection. There we all were: BT, RSPB and Wings over Mull gathered round a single bird. The farmer and his family had first raised the alarm; the police had helped bring us all together. Was it all going to be in vain? After a brief half-hearted struggle, the buzzard lay limp. He looked like the fight had gone out of him. Richard had seen this scenario many times before and half shook his head. "It doesn't look good..." he said in the understatement of the day, "...but we'll do what we can..."

His words trailed off as he lay the buzzard carefully in a special bird of prey carrying case and then set off for the bird hospital. Mike from BT checked the line was working, wished us genuine good luck and returned to his normal routine of engineering work around the island. I 'phoned the farmhouse and left a message and then wandered back to the landrover. I glanced back up at the line and there were a few buzzard feathers fluttering in the breeze. Once again I felt great pride in how different parts of the island had come together in a moment to help one poor buzzard in distress but I also knew that despite all our efforts, he was now balanced precariously between life and death.

Coming soon...conclusion to 'The buzzard's tale'

Sat tag latest: as you may have seen from the updated map, some recent data shows Breagha en route to the mainland again near Oban which is great news. Mara, at the moment, is playing hard to get but we know he'll appear on the radar again soon.

Dave Sexton RSPB Scotland Mull officer