It was 3:19 in the afternoon. The pager blipped at me a couple of times in quick succession.

After a morning and early afternoon scouring around St. Mary's, with not much to show for it apart from 3 Golden Plovers on the airfield, I had decided to grab a coffee and a bite to eat back in the flat at Spanish Ledge. To be honest, I think I was racking out the zeds when the pager blipped. Had I been at home in Sheffield, I may not have dragged myself off the settee straight away to look at the messages, but being on Scilly ... well "you never know" I thought. So I blurred my way across to the pager on the window ledge to see if there was anything of interest.

Nothing on the first new message, but wait a minute, the second message started: "Scilly. First summer male Little Bittern on St Agnes, Cove Vean, showing well".

Being in between scheduled launch times I didn't know what to do, so straight away I rang Ashley Fisher to check the drill. Do we wait for the outgoing launch or what? Ash answered his mobile straight away. "No, they're trying to organise transport right now" he said. "Get down to the quay straight away, it might be a RIB and spaces will be limited". "Right", I asked, "so will there be room for telescopes and tripods?". Ash said he was taking his, so I quickly gathered my gear together, put on my boots and my "Scilly Hat" and dashed out of the flat.

Part way down Hugh Street and Spider was seemingly riding his bike around in circles in the middle of the road, handlebar in one hand, mobile in the other. "Have you heard about the Little Bittern" he asked. "Just on my way Kris". Then Ashley hurtled past on his bike, shouting something that I didn't catch as he went past. By this time I was nearing the Pilots Gig and virtually at the quay, but when I got around the corner and past the Old Quay I couldn't see anyone. Panic sets in. Right ... look for Ashley's bike. There it is against the railing half way along the new quay. Breaking into a fast trot now, and I'm just about at the railings and nearing the steps down to the first mooring and I'm starting to hear my name "COME ON TONY, HURRY UP".

So I'm at the top of the steps and there's the RIB [you know - one of those little inflatable things with two bloody great Yamaha outboards lashed to the back] moored at the bottom of the steps, and Paul, the Skipper, is hanging onto the mooring rope ready to push off. I see a space at the front - a single seat in front of the Skipper's windscreen [windscreen - is that what they're called?]. A photographers kit bag that I recognise as belonging to Bryan Thomas was plonked in the small triangular space in front of the seat. Bob Flood is sitting next to the Skipper. Bryan, Ash and Nigel Wheatley are all further back. "Don't sit there Tony" says Bob. "Nah, you'll be ok" says Paul. "Will I need water-proofs" I ask. "Nah, you'll be ok" repeats Paul. Spider runs down the steps and we're about ready.

Well, we are ready, but what about Ren - where is he. Spider dashes back up the steps to find him as a group of touroids stand above us on the quay, all of them watching, bemused. Ren and Spider are soon scuttling [back] down the steps, they jump aboard and we're off.

So this seat I'm about to use has a handle at either side. "That must be for holding on with" I thought. And how right I was.

Now ... the inter-island launch takes about 20 minutes to get to Agnes. I swear we were there in five. Absolute tops. Those handles are definitely there for the purpose of holding on. For keeping yourself on the dry side of the inflatable bits. And Paul was dead right - amazingly, I didn't need the water-proofs. In fact I had been wetter when I went across on the regular launch a few days earlier. Whereas the launches just bludgeon their way through the waves and the spray, the RIB skims - well BOUNCES actually - across the top of the water. Thus, as long as you avoid being bounced over-board, you just don't get wet.

So about five minutes later and we hurtle into the landing jetty on Agnes. We pile off, accompanied by more puzzled looks from the non-birdy visitors, and set off rapidly up the road, straight past the Turk's Head [no stopping this time], down towards Gugh Bar, right and along the path round The Cove and along to Cove Vean.

I'm not paying too much attention to my watch at this stage, but it can be no later than 3:35 or 3:40pm and here we are, getting some cracking views of the first summer male Little Bittern.

You might recall the conversation I had with Ash about whether there would be room for scopes and tripods. Well ... it's a good job I did take mine, because in the rush I forgot to pick up my binoculars. Come on now .. we've all done it !!

At about 4:15 the bird disappeared into the rocks and we didn't see it again before we left at about 4:30. We were a bit concerned as a few of the local birders didn't manage to get across in time. In fact the bittern didn't show itself again for a few days, but fortunately it was eventually relocated and everyone managed to see it.

On the jubilant and adrenalin-filled return trip we were joined by Paul Stancliffe, so myself and Nigel shared the front seat, each having one handle plus each other to hang on by - but that's more than enough said about that. Rain had set in and Bob and Ash were leading a pelagic with Alec Hicks on the Kingfisher. But a bit of drizzle could never dampen the spirit after that.

Although I didn't need Little Bittern [for Britain anyway], I will always remember Thursday 22nd May 2003 as the most exciting twitch I had ever been involved in to date. Here's hoping for many more like it.

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