Birds of a feather part II

Sad to say, this is my very best photo of a kingfisher by the canal. Unusually, it sat in full sight and watched us pass slowly by. More often, they go deep into the tree or bush to hide, or fly away to another such perch further ahead. They dart very fast and low over the water; a flash of amazing colours and great beauty. We've rarely seen more than one at a time.

When they're not hiding from humans, they're likely to be sitting on the lowest branches next to the water, from which they dive to catch fish or insects. They start breeding in their first year. Come mating and egg-laying time, they build a nest in a hollow in the bank of a canal or river.  They work together to dig out the burrow, choosing a vertical bank clear of vegetation, which provides a good degree of protection from predators.

Two or three broods are raised in quick succession. The first clutch of six or seven eggs is laid late in March or early April. Both adults incubate the eggs, and the chicks hatch about nineteen days later. Each chick can eat twelve or so small fish a day, and they're fed in rotation; once a chick is fed, it moves to the back of the nest to digest its meal, and the others move forward.

They're ready to leave the nest when they're about twenty-four days old. Once they leave, they're only fed for four days before the adults drive them out, away from their territory, and start the next brood.

Beautiful, aren't they? I've only just realised that they're related to the Australian kookaburra. Not so beautiful, but they laugh!

(Photos from Unsplash.com)

Lockdown day 60 - Just observations

I've discovered that Sunday at around 10:00am is the best time to go shopping at the local Co-op.  The parking space in front of the shop was entirely empty, there was no queue, and never more than four people in the shop at any time. I wore a mask for the first time, but it almost felt obsolete.

Grace has made two masks; one like this, but with the addition of a very effective bendy bit (very technical!) over the bridge of the nose,

and one like this, made out of a t-shirt of mine, and providing four thicknesses of fabric over the nose and mouth.

Swan update...

The cygnets are growing very fast.

(The nasturtiums have suddenly shot up, too!)

We'd been hoping that the parents would get round to showing them the weed that grows at the waterline all around Kantara, but it took them a while to register this.

(Oh, good grief, look at that paintwork! It'll be tidied up as soon as we can move.)

Then, lo and behold, they came again, this time to give it a proper try.

It's supposed to be very nutritious, and I'm sure it's a better diet than the bread they get fed with at other boats. It's not detrimental to the boat in any way, and it'll break off in a few weeks of cruising, but I find it very annoying at the moment.

During my coffee routines over the past few days, I've been fortunate to see a kingfisher flying from boat to boat opposite me, perching on a tiller or taff-rail for a few moments before moving on. The photo's not mine (I wish!)

Sorry, whoever, but I really have no idea where I got this photo from!

Shortly after the kingfisher finally disappeared, I watched in amazement as a crow made three attempts to fly low and slow over the water, apparently to pick something up with his talons. He failed, but what was he after? Fish?

There was no way I was going to get a photo of the crow fishing, either,

so this one's from the Scottish Wildlife Trust - but still not fishing.

Then there was the comedy of a mallard trying to land on NB Charlton's solar panels, angled at about 45 degrees. He slithered off backwards, but managed to gain some kind of purchase, which involved a great deal of wing flapping and foot scrabbling, but failed finally. As he slipped back down the glassy slope again, he tried hooking his beak over the top of the panel, and this worked for a few seconds, inasmuch as he stopped sliding off. But getting to the peak of his summit meant having to let go of his anchorage, and this meant... he simply fell right off in a most ungainly fashion. I can't swear that the noise made at that moment by other ducks actually was laughter, but it certainly sounded like it.

(If you're a boater who's been disturbed by a laughing duck at silly o'clock in the morning, it's a sound you hate!)

*******

Paddington Basin to Willowtree Marina (cruise retrospective)

We started off from the Basin in bright, sunny weather, but there was still an extreme chill in the air that continued throughout the day. The stretch of canal out of Little Venice was now even fuller of boats than when we first came through. There were no mooring spaces at all, and boats were breasted up three deep in places. There's to be a major boating event at Little Venice in a couple of weeks' time, the IWA Canalway Cavalcade, and there's expected to be a huge gathering of boats for that. One boat which had found a mooring was NB Wobbly Limited. It looked all closed up, but we discovered later that poor Mr Wobbly was inside sleeping off a bout of flu.

I've said before that kingfishers seem to be getting less timid. Now it's the turn of herons. Time was, they'd wait on the bank until you were about 20 to 30 metres away. Then they'd fly off ahead, land on the bank and wait until you were... Repeat until bored, then sweep off across a field. On this trip we've passed very close to lots of herons who have stood their ground and watched us, immobile, as we passed. One stood right next to Grace at the stern in a lock, quite clearly wanting to be fed. And the one which takes first prize for temerity is one we saw two days ago,  following behind a walker and repeatedly pecking at the backs of his legs. "Feed me, Seymore! Feed me!"

Talking of birds... London's canals have lots of bridges. Iron constructions whose girders provide nesting nooks for countless pigeons. These birds are not content to watch you pass through beneath them in the boat. Instead, they flap around as if in panic, covering you in feathers and the dust of dried excrement. The threat of psittacosis seems very real as I close my eyes and hold my breath and wait to emerge into cleaner air at the other side of the bridge.

Boat names fascinate us. We frequently wonder what the significance of a name is, and why someone called it that. Until today, I thought the silliest name for a boat just had to be "Moose Drool". Today, we saw "Laughing Gravy" and "The Slowness of Cows". Why???

We moved on through London; Kensal Green, past the huge and famous cemetery, Alperton, Perivale, Northolt,

and at around 4:00pm we arrived back at Willowtree Marina, where we moored for the night. Once again, the 230v mains supply was more than welcome. We did a couple of loads of washing, almost wished we had more to wash, vacuum-cleaned the cabin, and used our laptops. Unfortunately, the restaurant was closed, but this is a good place to stop.