Water rails are
typically a shy species. When I was volunteering in Greece in 2011,
the very numerous Rallus aquaticus of the Gialova Lagoon, were
only seen as they ran across the small bodies of water which
separated the vast reedbeds, squawking anxiously. At reserves in the
UK, indeed across Europe and temperate Asia, the species' range, a
typical encounter consists of a sound, a squeal, not dissimilar to a
distressed pig, emanating from somewhere among the reeds. When
Springwatch filmed a Water Rail nest at RSPB Minsmere, and saw the
pretty, fluffy black chicks, it was the first time their hatching had
been filmed in the wild. They often appear on Facebook cute-memes,
wrongly labelled as “crow chicks” presumably because of their
jet-black downy plumage. These are such seldom seen, if not terribly
rare birds, the behaviour of one at RSPB Rainham Marshes, by the
Thames Estuary on the cusp of South Essex and East London, in
January, was quite unusual. Pretty much every birder in the region
took a few photos, and I decided to join them.
The Rail was using a pool beside one of the reserve paths, walking around its edges, occasionally leaving the shelter of the reeds to swim across the open water, looking not dissimilar to the much more familiar Moorhen (Galinula chloropus), of public parks, and posing for photographs. Water Rails are omnivorous, and can turn their attention to a range of foods, but hard times can draw birds out of the reeds, or other dense habitat as the search for energy giving foods becomes ever more pressing. Water Rails can become surprisingly confiding when cold weather dictates, and this one had, perhaps ill-advisedly, been fed mealworms, a practice which is not encouraged when dealing with scarce wild birds whose chronic shyness is an evolved survival strategy, but nevertheless, whether through familiarity or though desperation, it had come out into the open and cast off its fear of humans.
