MADEIRA
July 2001

Simon Harrap

Our Atlantic adventure began as the plane circled tightly to land at Funchal, the capital of the Madeira archipelago. Volcanic in origin, there is precious little flat land on Madeira, and the airport runway has been extended out over the sea, supported on stilts (and thus making the landing rather less hairy than in former times). From the airport it was just a short trip to the Carlton Hotel, our home for the next four nights, with a marvellous view out over the harbour area, and with Plain Swifts in the skies all around.

After a relaxed breakfast on our first morning, it was just a short walk down the hill to the harbour (past the only Little Egret of the trip, which inevitably prompted thoughts of Snowy Egret), where we eventually boarded our three boats for a day-long pelagic. Chugging out past the breakwater and making sail for added speed, we eagerly began to scan the horizon for the pelagic seabirds we had come so far to see. As Madeira rises straight from the ocean floor, there is deep water just offshore, one reason why it holds so many seabirds. Thus, we did not have too long to wait before the first Cory's Shearwaters lumbered past, and we were to see thousands more as the voyage progressed. Our main target was a much rarer bird however; indeed it is even possible to miss it altogether. It was with some relief then that the first Fea's Petrel was spotted, cart-wheeling in typical gadfly petrel fashion over the sea. Overall at least twenty sightings were logged, and everyone had the opportunity to admire at least one bird at close range, when the lack of a breast band and pale uppertail easily separates Fea's from Soft-plumaged Petrel of the Southern Oceans. Separation at sea from its even rarer cousin, Zino's Petrel, is rather more problematic however, and there was much discussion as to whether the differences in bulk, forecrown colour, wing shape and bill dimensions would be obvious or even possible to see at all. Another special seabird is Bulwer's Petrel, and we saw quite a few of these at sea, skimming low over the waves and looking rather like diminutive skuas. The morning session was also notable for sightings of cetaceans, with one boat (the Ventura) obtaining good views of two Sperm Whales, and all three vessels getting good looks at schools of Short-finned Pilot Whales.

We had obtained special permission to land of the island of Deserta Grande, very different from the main island of Madeira in its intensely arid climate. The island is surrounded by precipitous cliffs with just a small beach at the foot of a scree slope available for landing, Thus we were all transferred, more or less dry-shod, from our convoy to the beach, where we were greeted by some of the reserve's staff. They pointed out the nests of Bulwer's Petrels hidden amongst the rocks, and we had grand views at close range of these little black petrels sitting on their solitary white eggs. A Cory's Shearwater on the nest was also available, but, best of all perhaps, was a Madeiran Storm-petrel which had made the journey over from Funchal in a paper bag and was to be placed in a hole on the island (far safer for it than to be released at sea during the hours of daylight). We were able to examine this exquisite creature at close range and from every angle before it was tucked away, safe and sound, until nightfall. Of course, landbirds were few indeed, but we did have ultra close views of some very tame Berthelot's Pipits and a large flock of Atlantic Canaries, and a couple of Common Buzzards sat high overhead on the rock pinnacles whilst a House Martin fed its young on the cliffs below (if the young were raised on Deserta Grande it would be the first breeding record for Macaronesia!). Deserta Grande is not only notable for birds, and a renegade party of botanizing group members could be seen scurrying around, noses to the ground, in search of its vegetable endemics. After a picnic lunch ashore, it was back on board and weigh anchors for the voyage home. More Fea's and Bulwer's Petrels were great to see, and one boat (the Gaviao) also logged two Balearic Shearwaters, possibly the first for the archipelago, whilst another (the Ventura) found a Great Skua.

We had had a long day at sea, but it was not over yet. After an all-too-quick dinner some of the party departed by minibus for the island's heights. An hour later, after a long zig-zag drive uphill, we were standing, wreathed in fog, in the darkness at Pico Areeiro. Here we were met by our guide and started off along a walk that we had been warned would be frightening and possibly even dangerous (or was Pete exaggerating?!). After just 30 minutes, with no lives lost yet, we reached the first 'viewpoint' and immediately heard the wails of a Zino's Petrel. Like a cross between a Tawny Owl and a howling dog, it was mesmerizing, and was often followed by the deeper growl of a second bird. The night was still very misty and it seems that a Zino's Petrel was flying around and around, trying to locate its burrow by calling to its mate on land who in turn called back to guide it in. How any bird could land on these precipitous cliffs in the pitch black and fog is, however, beyond me - perhaps that is why they are so rare? Then, out of the gloom, we spotted a shape shooting past. It did it again and again, and although it was not possible to see any details (other than a silhouette), it seems that we had seen a Zino's Petrel. We were both thrilled and astonished, and it made the climb back up to the bus (again, no lives lost), and the long and tortuous drive back, with the road hardly visible in the fog, all worthwhile.

After a day brim-full of seabirds it was time to focus on the terrestrial endemics and so we had a day out in the forest. Driving back up over the top of the island we headed for the lush laurel forests that reach their fullest development on the northern slopes of Madeira. Splitting into two parties (or was it four for a time?) we all had great views of the star of the day, the endemic Trocaz Pigeon. Good flight views and superb looks through the scope revealed a bird with patches of green and coppery iridescence on the neck, surmounted by a large area of chequerboard black and white. There were other birds to look at, notably the lovely local race of Firecrest, which has a distinctive song and is surely a candidate for a 'split'. A nest was even cunningly spotted by Craig, a neat affair of lichen and moss suspended from a high branch. Other birds of note were the local Common Chaffinches, European Robins and Blackcaps, and in the afternoon the botanical rebels took over again with another foray to the laurel forests to search for endemic orchids and other goodies (did anyone believe their excuse that they wanted a closer look at the Common Blackbirds?).

Our hotel was an elaborate affair, with three separate lifts needed to get from the top floor down to the beach at the base of the slope. It also had pretensions of grandeur, and our evening's entertainment consisted of the arrival by helicopter of the compere, followed by the arrival by speedboat of a bevy of glamorous models surrounded by 'SAS' style frogmen, all a bit much for a catwalk display of swimwear! The management made a mistake however, in offering our party an 'all you can drink for $6' deal. Little did they know... After dinner some of us (still very much sober) embarked on a second Zino's Petrel expedition. Things went much as on the previous evening, with three important differences. It was not as foggy (indeed, it was starlit at the peak), making the drive easier, and the walk a little more scary (you could see just how far you would fall should a crazy suicidal notion take possession of your brain and you leapt over the precipice!). We had to walk further, as there was little on offer at the first 'viewpoint' and thirdly, the birds did not behave as well. There was less calling, and only one or two of the party glimpsed the petrel. Perhaps the clear skies meant that the Zino's could rocket straight into their burrows with the minimum of fuss? Oh, and on the way back Simon's bus suffered a flat tyre, just what's needed at 1.30 in the morning.

Day three saw us all at sea again. With just two vessels in the armada (some land-lubbers bowed out) there were no landings scheduled for the day, just sea, sea and more sea. As on day one, most of the pelagic seabirds seemed to be concentrated in the area between Madeira and Deserta Grande, and we had good views of several Fea's Petrels and good numbers of Bulwer's, but very little else. The only other highlight of the trip were the rafts of Cory's Shearwaters on the far side of Deserta Grande, and the afternoon was so quiet that some leaders were even seen to close their eyes... briefly! The evening's programme included a drinks party hosted by Birdquest, where most, or perhaps even all, of the leaders could be seen in a collar and tie (and let's hope that fashions do not change too much, as it's a sure thing that the same shirts and ties will be dusted off in another five years time!!).

Our final morning on Madeira took us to Baia d'Abra at the arid eastern end of the island. All burnt-up like a Mediterranean summer, the car park hosted Berthelot's Pipits and, eventually, Rock Sparrow, but the hoped-for Spectacled Warbler was nowhere to be seen. Then came the parting of the ways, with many of the group returning to the airport to fly back to Britain (taking in Spanish Sparrows on the way) whilst the remainder of us returned to the hotel to await the afternoon flight to the Azores. After a relaxed lunch at the 'Red Lion' there was a brief foray to the harbour to twitch a Ring-billed Gull seen that morning, then bags were packed and we headed for the airport.