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9 October 2014 (Great rubbish) Crake-off

Last weekend I glimpsed the juvenile Little Crake at Minsmere. This was unsatisfactory, particularly as I had only seen one before anywhere. As the bird stayed throughout the week, routinely being seen early doors, I returned to Minsmere's Bittern Hide today for a quick pre-work twitch. A score of birders were in place for the first two hours of light... to no avail. The crake did not show. A complete crake-off. Or, rather, it did show - but several hours later.

This got me thinking about my crake experiences. And the changes in my crake luck. From 1995-1998, I was quids in. Leading a research team in Paraguay in 1995, I was in on the discovery of two new species of crake for the country (Russet-crowned and the stunning Ocellated) and two country thirds (Rufous-facedand Grey-breasted). All the more exciting given that Rufous-faced was (and remains) globally threatened and known from very few localities, and that Ocellated was then considered Near Threatened. Back in the UK, I was also fortunate. I enjoyed the spring Little Crake at Bough Beech Res in 1997 and, sleeping overnight in a hide the following summer, had the male Baillon's Crake all to myself at Grove Ferry, and at point-blank range to boot.

After this, things went markedly downhill.

During several years living in Argentina (2006-09), I made numerous attempts to see Dot-winged Crake, and had bashes at Speckled and Yellow-breasted Crakes. To no avail. Out of 25+ attempts to see Red-and-white Crake, I had fleeting views of just a couple of individuals. If it hadn't been for the local Rufous-sided Crakes, our life in Buenos Aires would have been an utter crake-off. Back in the UK, in five visits to Rainham Marshes when the juvenile Baillon's Crake was there in 2012, involving hours upon hours stood in a cramped hide, I had one five-minute view and one five-second view. And then this Minsmere Little Crake: two visits, several hours, two-seconds of rallid. Great rubbish crake-off.

At Minsmere, today, there was a modicum of consolation. A Bittern flew past, and a Great White Egret rose briefly from a mere. Bearded Tits were pinging around, while a female Marsh Harrier cruised past. Starlings were fleeing their nocturnal roost, neighbouring Cetti's Warblers scolded each other, and a Chiffchaff briefly joined a roving tit flock.

I saved the best - if saddest - for the end. On the way down the steps of Bittern hide, my eye caught an odd shape on the ground, semi-squashed between two slats in the 'landing' floor. It looked for all the world like two used teabags. Looking closer, I realised that it was a bat. Turning it over, it was clearly a Brown Long-eared Bat. And one in an apparently sorry state - perhaps crushed by a birder's boot ascending the steps in the dark? I picked it up and took it to the reserve centre, where staff promised to give it some care and attention.