31st October 1988 - Flevoland

I'm not saying much here about the Dutch drainage systems and polder land development. There is probably more information around now, and I don't need to oik out all those old notes.

The Oostvaarderplassen

5,500 hectares of open water and reedbeds, said to be excel­lent for duck and raptors in winter, and breeding waders in summer. A bit of the intensively agricultural polderland that someone decided could stay as a wetland instead of being drained and ploughed. A dyke topped by a quiet backroad runs along the east side of the reserve and we spend several cold hours there watching the comings and goings of small parties of wildfowl: wigeon, teal, pochard, mallard, goosander, shelduck, pintail, shoveler, gadwall, greylag geese, bewick swans and cormorants. A rough‑legged buzzard is chased off by a common buzzard which in turn is mobbed by a sparrowhawk; and a peregrine drops in too. The surrounding reedbeds and wooded areas hold a collection of common farm and woodland birds, plus a reed bunting and another willow tit with a sore throat ‑ perhaps it's their local dialect.

Footpaths lead through the reedbeds to two bird hides, while a third hide lies a couple of kilometres away by road. The building we try has a thick thatched roof and is octagonal in shape ‑ more practical for school parties and clubs than the conventional oblong hide. We do not stay long; there is a bitterly cold wind blowing through and only shelduck to be seen outside.

While the Oostvaarderplassen has become a semi‑natural habitat, our next destination, the Lelystad Power Station, is entirely man‑made ‑ a concrete and steel structure in a lake that is now fresh­water, and next to land that been reclaimed. Power stations have a reputation for attracting large numbers of waterfowl to good feeding areas where the outflow from the cooling system warms the surrounding water. We find great-crested and little grebes, coot, tufted duck and pochard sheltering on the leeward side of the building, but not the expected concentration of feeding birds. A local birdwatcher explains that the cooling water is used to warm a series of fishponds (hidden from view by rows of trees) where fish are reared to stock waters all over the country.

A long line of forty greylag geese fly low over the water towards the Oostvaarderplassen. A few common and black-headed gulls fly along the shore, and also a first winter little gull with a leisurely tern‑like flight.


The Ketelmeer

The Ketelmeer is another artificial lake, one of the many open water areas between the 'old' land and the new polders. Originally polders were con­structed adjacent to existing land but this caused the old land to dry out, so the most recent polders are surrounded with open water and water levels in the new and old land can be controlled independently. A score of small islands of up to five square kilometres have been created in these lakes, and these, together with about seventy kilometres of reed‑fringed shore­line, provide breeding places for several species of waterfowl, including bittern and purple heron.
In autumn and winter the lakes, together with the polders, are an important moulting, resting and feeding area for huge numbers of wildfowl. Now, groups of tufted duck and pochard rafted along the shore, with smaller numbers of mallard, great crested grebe, goosander and goldeneye, and lots of gulls.
A large skua flew in low, landed on the water, and commenced a long preening session. It was quite a dark bird, with an even darker face and pale bill. The white flashes on the primaries were more prominent below than above the wings and there was marked barring under the tail but no tail projections. After consulting 'Seabirds' we agreed it was a juvenile pomerine skua ‑ it was quite a change to watch such a bird at fairly close quarters, having previously only seen them flying past Strumble Head (South West Wales) on migration.
A deep water channel ran through the Ketelmeer but there were other places where the water was only a few centimetres deep. For the last hour and a half of daylight we watched a stream of black‑headed and common gulls, several flocks of lapwing and curlew, a half dozen snipe and a few dozen shelduck congregating in the shallows to roost. A sparrowhawk flew over and put the lot up, the two thousand or so gulls looking like a snowstorm in the fading light, topped with a layer of lapwing. The curlew were the first to settle again, then the gulls and finally the lapwing. The snipe fluttered like bats to a great height then left. Two bewick swans flew in, and, perhaps looking for their own kind, landed near a small group of white domestic geese, but waddled off when they realised their mistake.