With reports of a mass movement of Two Barred Crossbills on the continent, a Bridled Tern and a Lesser Sand Plover to the north, today I decided, with rather fanciful hope, to go to Spurn with my good pal Kobayashi. He's Russian so knows all about Two Barred Crossbills.
I bird Easington a lot more than I used to. I think it's since the official boundary of the recording area changed to include Easington too. I also think it's because I know Spurn has been pretty much covered by the time I get there thus giving me less hope of finding something. I limped around the area carefully saying "bowling green" in the deepest voice I could muster. "Bowwwwling greeeeen."
I did Easington, to no avail. Four Yellowhammers. Not even the village shop was willing to join my new protection racket so I left with some coconut macaroons. I'll show them what real will is. A Red Backed Shrike was reported north of Easington lagoon and I was only a few minutes away so I thought I'd check it out. Maybe some crazy day visitor had fucked up an Izzy or a Brown. I got there to find no one around. No Shrike. Nothing. It made me wonder if there really was a Red Backed Shrike that day but it's hard being a single observer when a decent record is found.
When I submitted that Alpine Swift over Gower Road the BBRC laughed at the submission as I'd done a load of childish scribble all over the paper and even drawn a comedy penis on my sketch of the bird. I was hit with a rejection. 'Not proven' they came back with. Who the fuck was they kidding? Okay, I'd scribbled a bit on the description but they didn't complain back in Skokie Illinois when I scribbled on my description of a mother fucking Warbling Vireo.
Gantlett came to us with the job, Millington got the vans, and Steve Palmer off Tilbury Road supplied the hardware, I came through with how to do it so no one got killed, but Evans... Evans put on the finishing touch. A little 'fuck you' from the five of us to the BBRC. It was his idea to hit the BBRC Taxi Service.
As I went back to the car near Easington Lagoon the local anti-terrorism police questioned me. They asked me things I didn't know. Things like why I was there and what time did I get there, I'd already told the DA everything I knew.
"Morning Sir, everything okay?" said the rozzer.
I said "Where's your head, PC Kujan? Where do you think the pressure's coming from? No Neck Ted off Benedict - or whatever you want to call him - he knows where I am right now. He's got the front burner under your ass to let me go so he can scoop me up ten minutes later outside Neppy. Immunity was just a deal with you assholes. I got a whole new problem when I post bail."
He said "So why play into his hands? We can protect you."
So I said to the rozzer "Oh, gee, thanks, Dave. Bang-up job so far. Rejections, suppression. You'll pardon me if I ask you to kiss my pucker. The same fuckers that rounded us up and sank us into this mess are gonna bail me out? Fuck you. You think you can catch No Neck Ted off Benedict? You think a guy like that comes this close to getting caught and sticks his head out? If he comes up for anything, it will be to get rid of me. After that... my guess is you'll never hear from him again even if the Bridled Tern moves south and gets relocated at Beacon Ponds."
Luckily PC Kujan ran some checks on my car and let me go. I limped down towards the obs and noticed some guys viz-migging up on Clubleys but what the cops never figured out, and what I know now, was that these men would never break, never lie down, never. They stay up there all day watching visible migration, they say one guy stayed up there for 14 days solid with no food apart from a packet of Golden Grahams, only coming down to run a hijacking job on a lorry load of steel just outside Queens.
At around 5pm I left the Spurn area and drove west. The police who had stopped me earlier drove past me in their pesky range rover in the opposite direction and gave a polite wave as I went.