Birds in Tasmania

Season's Greetings

2011-12-19T07:40:00.001+11:00

Have a happy and safe Christmas and New Year

I recently photographed this Australasian Grebe on a small farm dam. These grebes have made a slow and sustained increase in numbers over the last 30 or so years, thanks largely to the increase in water storages on many farms in the east and south-east of Tasmania. Unlike their near relatives, the Hoary-headed Grebe, which are usually found on large bodies of water and in flocks sometimes numbering in the hundreds, this grebe is more likely to be met with in pairs or small groups on small water storages--the largest group I've seen in Tasmania totalled only 5.

Victorian Visitor......Pied Oystercatcher

2011-12-18T09:02:00.000+11:00

I stopped off briefly at Lauderdale Spit recently en route to Pipeclay Lagoon. It's become almost a ritual and I rarely spend more than a few minutes scanning the waders, gulls and terns from a 'respectful' distance. I noted the Pied Oystercatcher roost still consisted of 200 or more birds, a seemingly large number during the breeding season. As I passed the resident pair near the highway, I could see they were becoming agitated by a third bird nearby. I stopped to watch and as the 'interloper' closed on them, one of the pair proceeded to 'dive-bomb' it. It ran off through the shallow water, and as it did I noticed it appeared to be banded.
This wasn't unusual as many Pied Oystercatchers have been colour-banded in southern Tasmania over the years, and subsequent sightings have delivered a large amount of useful information.. I often photograph them for later identification if I can do that without unduly disturbing the roosts. I walked out into the water and slowly moved the 'intruder' onto the beach a few metres away. As you can see from the accompanying image, the oystercatcher didn't sport colour bands, but a yellow 'flag' with "8D" on it. From the flagging protocols, this bird was so marked at Corner Inlet in Victoria, around 470kms away. I'm still waiting for additional information as to when it was originally caught. From local banding efforts it appears that few of 'our' oystercatchers stray outside of the Derwent and Pittwater areas, so one wonders what drives a few to travel hundreds of kilometres.
This Victorian bird was showing interest in one of the resident pair I mentioned earlier, and one could fantasise that the journey was as a result of unrequited love. But I'm sure I'll be taken to task for even jokingly suggesting it!!
Finally received the banding information on this bird. Originally banded at Barry Beach, Corner Inlet, Victoria on 13 August 2006, aged 4. Now 10 years old.

The Fence Sitters

2011-11-27T08:00:00.001+11:00

A few weeks back, I had returned to Pipeclay Lagoon to try to find a single Sanderling (a small migrant wader) I had seen there a few days earlier. To say I had "seen" it, doesn't tell the whole story. I wanted to try my hand at video, and had decided that shooting a small flock of waders would be a cinch, it wasn't! But as I reviewed the footage on my PC, I realised that among the Red-necked Stint was the aforementioned Sanderling. This species is mainly found on ocean beaches, and I don't recall ever seeing one in the Hobart area. So I had returned to try taking some 'stills'. I quickly located the wader flock of around 100 stint, but clearly the Sanderling was absent. As I was walking back through the tussock grass, I became entangled in discarded old fencing wire, fell full length, saved the camera, but aggravated a recent leg injury--yes, very amusing!
So my recent outings have been limited to birding from my vehicle, with occasional forays close by. I guess the good news is that a vehicle makes a great hide, and it's amazing how trusting birds are to their approach. So the accompanying shots were taken from my vehicle around the perimeter of the lagoon. All of the birds were at some part of their breeding cycle.
       The Australasian Pipit, found    Australia-wide, was carrying food, in this instance a large spider, to a nearby nest among the tussocks, stopping off atop the fence post to survey the area for possible threats. I've rarely photographed them, although quite common in many open areas of the state. They sometimes occur in close proximity to the more commonly found Eurasian Skylark, a species introduced in the mid 19th century. These 2 species are very similar in appearance, and can present an ID challenge as you flush them from grasslands. The pipits form small flocks in winter, and live a nomadic life. One winter's morning, in a gale, a flock took refuge in my and surrounding gardens, very much in suburbia. Not exactly pipit habitat.
   The White-fronted Chat, another nomad, was among several pairs feeding nestlings, again using the fence as a vantage point. They appear to breed throughout the spring and well into summer, appearing suddenly in an area, breeding, and just as quickly moving on. Usually found in family groups, they flock in the colder months, forming substantial flocks, often seen roaming the open countryside.
   Lastly, and size-wise, the least, I photographed a pair of Striated Pardalote nest building, also using the fence as a vantage point. In the open country around Pipeclay Lagoon, they nest in holes in the ground or in sandy banks, but in wooded areas, they usually choose holes in trees, sometimes several in the same tree. I spotted this pair carrying long lengths of dry grass to their nearby nest hole. Of the 3 mentioned, they are the only true migrants, moving to the Mainland in winter, although a few may remain .
   Of course these 3 species are by no means the only 'fence sitters', but I'm grateful for their cooperation!

Always a Challenge....Pink Robin

2011-10-19T08:34:00.012+11:00

One of my favourite birds is the Pink Robin, but they are often elusive, live in dense forest, and are mainly dark in colour and photographing them is often a challenge. I've found that spring is the best time to attempt photography, usually when the male is "announcing" his territorial rights. My philosophy on photographing this species is to visit various local known sites and hope. Hope for a "collision" of events--a cooperative bird, the right situation and the right light. That's not too much to hope for, is it! The other option is to wait for winter when these robins often frequent the edges of their usual wet forest habitat.
So during early spring I did the rounds of local sites, such as the Snug Falls reserve, Myrtle Forest at Collinsvale, Truganini Reserve at Taroona, and the Wielangta Forest. I found Pink Robins at all sites except the Truganini Reserve. At this reserve, much of the 'usual' site has been cleared, possibly to clear fallen trees or invasive weeds. The good news is that this area seems to have been taken over by Eastern Spinebill (several pairs) and Dusky Robins. I also found a pair of Beautiful Firetail nest building close to the track. But it was only at the W
ielangta Forest that the "collision" occurred.
I've made a few trips to the Wielangta Forest this spring, few have produced much in the way of bird images, but it's a good venue for wet forest and rainforest species if you're prepared to put in the effort. The road is now open again, but not in great nick, and care is especially needed around the new bridge. The walking tracks are generally overgrown and have numerous fallen trees across them both large and small, making a walk more like a steeple chase. But from personal experience, there's no lack of leeches.
The visit that I finally managed some shots on was about a month ago and as often happens, I wasn't expecting it. I had only walked a few hundred metres from the road, when I heard an Olive Whistler calling, and stopped to find it. This was shortly followed by first a Bassian Thrush, then a Flame Robin calling, both from nearby dense bush. I endeavoured to locate them, but failed on all counts. A Tasmanian Thornbill and a Tasmanian Scrubwren scolded me as I pushed deeper into the scrub, arriving at a small clearing surrounded by dead or dying shrubs largely covered in lichens. I stood and surveyed the area, hoping to at least find the still calling Olive Whistler. I knew from previous visits that this was a likely spot for the whistler. A movement to my right caught my eye and a Pink Robin appeared. I stood completely still to allow a hopefully close approach. He called, flew to another branch and called again. There was dappled light passing through the forest canopy, and several potential perches around the clearing, and despite the low light level, I began to get quite excited at the possibilities. However this was tempered somewhat by previous attempts which didn't exactly measure up to my expectations.

As you can see by the accompanying images, I did manage to get some useable images, but as always I was left with the feeling "maybe next time". [I could have used flash, but that would have"killed" the ambience, and affect the birds' behaviour.] Over the next 40 minutes I stood, watched, and occasionally photographed this robin as he went about his business. Mostly he took food from among the leaf litter and moss covered ground, pouncing on it from a perch, although I couldn't identify exactly what his prey was. On a number of occasions he came within a metre or so of me, looking, I thought, rather accusingly at me, but otherwise seemed unfazed by my presence. At close quarters, it's size becomes very apparent--it's small (c.12cms), as does the sheer beauty of the pink breast contrasting with the sooty colour of the head and body--so hard to adequately capture in photographs. The female put in a brief appearance, as did several Tasmanian Thornbills, gleaning insects from beneath the leaves of various shrubs. Eventually the wind rose and scudding clouds appeared followed by light rain. Time to leave. I hoped that I had not intruded in this birds' life in vain, but at the very least I had been 'privileged' to spend time watching this sometimes hard to find bird.

Wander Lust..... Wandering Whistling-Duck

2011-09-15T08:16:00.005+10:00

A report on Birdline Tasmania at the weekend, caught my eye as much from the observers' comments as from the content. Ian Lundy reported seeing 3 ducks at Lake Dulverton, that he described in detail, believing that the birds in question were Wandering Whistling-Duck. He was not able to get any shots with his phone (photographs have become almost mandatory for rare bird sightings). He concluded by saying: "this bird is not found anywhere near here but it is what I saw--please tell me I'm not going crazy". This species breeds in the tropical north of Australia and is uncommon to rare further south, and as far as I'm aware, has not been recorded in Tasmania before, so I guess Ian's comments are not unreasonable.

Being old and sceptical, I awaited developments and they were not long in coming. Paul Brooks sent me an email saying that he had subsequently seen them, confirmed their identity, and thought that it might be possible to photograph them. I have to say I wasn't particularly enthused, my twitching days are largely behind me, but as Lake Dulverton is almost always worth a visit I gave a lukewarm reply.

Consulting the weather forecast for the rest of the week suggested a visit might be better sooner than later, so on Wednesday morning I set forth. It's an hours drive from Hobart and although I set off in high hopes, as I approached Oatlands (where the lake is situated), the weather noticeably deteriorated. At the Mud Walls dam the wind was wiping up waves and this usually good spot for duck held absolutely nothing! Not a good omen. On to Dulverton.

I pulled in to the small carpark overlooking the spot that the previous observers had indicated the birds had been sighted. Looking along the dam wall I could see a flock of about 15 Little Pied Cormorant roosting, and close by, tucked close to and largely hidden by tufts of sedge, I could make out 2 ducks, but the limited view indicated they were almost certainly the birds in question. I then, with the benefit of hindsight, made a gross error of judgement. I got out of the car! The cormorants took off and so too did the duck. Worse, I didn't see where they headed to.

I spent the next 3 hours around the shores of the lake. I watched the very flighty flocks of Hardhead, there were over 500, by far the largest numbers that I've ever see in Tasmania. I noted a few Blue-billed duck, a single pair of Australian Shelduck, and many hundreds of Eurasian Coot. There were noticeably few 'dabblers' such as Chestnut Teal and Black Duck. I then returned to the starting point, and lo and behold, the 'whistlers' were back, and so were the cormorants. No problems this time though. I descended the bank to the shoreline and bird by bird the cormorants flew off leaving the 3 Wandering Whistlers and I shot off several images, one shown. I decided to attempt to approach along the dam wall. I fired off 3 or 4 shots before they flushed, landing about 30 metres away among the low, but dense vegetation of the lake.

I met Els Wakefield shortly afterwards, she was also after photographs of them, and reported that they were now back where she had seen (and photographed) them earlier. Comparison of notes and digital images ensued. I was if anything, relieved at managing to get a few shots, particularly in the blustery conditions which made all the duck very flighty, and I was still annoyed with myself for earlier having flushed them from the dam wall.

With the aftermath of the Mainland floods, with good conditions for waterbird breeding, it probably isn't surprising that these duck have turned up. I think there will most likely be more unusual sighting of "mainland" species. A question has been raised as to the possibility that these birds are "escapees" from a waterbird collection or zoo. While impossible to rule out, I think the behaviour of these 3 birds suggested that they are wild birds.

Chatham Albatross on Eaglehawk Neck Pelagic

2011-09-06T08:15:00.002+10:00

Report from Els Wakefield:
The pelagic trip, led by Dan Mantle from Canberra, left Pirates Bay (Eaglehawk Neck) and headed straight to the Continental Shelf drop off on board the Pauletta. Many of the birders on board had made hundreds of trips, but declared Saturday's (3rd September) the best ever with a huge variety of birds and great viewing conditions. The highlight of the day caused a rush to the side of the boat. It was what we call a "lifer", as nobody on board had seen it before and it was Tasmania's first record ! I understand that 2 or 3 have been recorded off the Australian mainland. The bird was a Chatham Albatross (Thalassarche eremita), previously considered a form of Shy Albatross (Thalassarche cauta), commonly seen in Tasmanian waters.
It's a handsome bird, with grey head and neck and an enormous yellow-orange bill. Some called it 'banana-bill bird'. As it appeared in the distance little did we realise that it would come right up to the stern of the boat, enabling all to ID it and take photographs.
A similar trip the following day, failed to locate the bird.

Ever the Opportunist........Silver Gull

2011-08-26T10:49:00.008+10:00

While my son and I were fishing the River Derwent recently, without much luck, we were heartened to see flocks of Silver Gulls, with the odd Kelp and Pacific Gull present too, working their way up river towards us. From previous experience, this can often be an indicator of fish, such as salmon or couta, chopping up bait fish, with the gulls picking up the odd morsel. Well the flock passed and despite much casting of lures, there was no sign of any fish. I took a few shots to see if I could ID what they were eating, but I couldn't resolve anything on the camera's LCD screen, but it did intrigue me.

Looking at the images on my PC, I was able to enlarge some of the shots, and realised they were eating beetles. I mentioned this to my wife, who remembered a recent story in the local daily, The Mercury, that there had recently been an "inundation" of beetles. The
story quoted Dr. Cathy Young, the Tasmanian Museum's entomologist, as saying that these 15mm beetles, Redheaded Cockchafers (Adoryphorus couloni) were particularly common at this time of year. Apparently they spend much of the year in the ground as grubs, chomping up the roots of lawn and pasture grasses and as such they are a considerable pest. "Then as soon as we get to this time of year--late winter and early spring--they emerge (from their pupal cell), mate, reproduce and then die" she is quoted as saying. They have a lifespan (as a beetle) of only a week or so.

We had noticed a large group of several hundred beetles on shore--all dead--that was swept downstream as the tide rose, but hadn't realised they were the 'target' of the gulls. Looking at the shape of some of the gulls, they had seriously overindulged!

Gone Fishing....... Black-faced Cormorant

2011-08-25T08:06:00.012+10:00

My son, also a keen birder, persuaded me to go fishing, and during the last week or so, we've fished various local venues with mixed results. But if you're a birder, however hard you try, you just can't help noticing the birds. So a few days ago we were fishing the River Derwent not far from the Bowen Bridge. As we arrived, my son pointed to a distant cormorant, which was silhouetted against the light from the just risen sun. It appeared to have caught a fish, which gave us some hope. The truth, as we soon discovered, was very different!
Quickly getting our lines into the water, we soon realised that there were a dozen or more cormorants apparently fishing at various spots. I opted for them being "Little-pieds", a common cormorant in the Derwent at this time of year. I had my binoculars with me, and I soon found that the passing birds were apparently carrying nesting material. I followed one as it flew up the river and landed on the bridge pontoon half a kilometre away. That seemed a very odd place for a Little-pied Cormorant to nest, as they usually nest in trees! Then the penny dropped, they were Black-faced Cormorant, (also called Black-faced Shag).

While this may not seem worthy of mention, as these birds are commonly seen in the Derwent, especially during the winter, they normally breed on isolated stacks and islets, such as Maatsuyker Island and the Hippolytes, to name two in southern Tasmanian waters. Some years back I recall visiting a colony on Little Betsy Island, close to the mouth of the Derwent. So this site, at the base of the bridge supports, is an unusual breeding site, and several kilometres 'inland' from the river mouth. I counted 16 or more nests, most with sitting birds, but as I could only see one side of the supports, I would guess that there may be twice that number in the colony.

I got the camera out of the car (I feel 'naked' without it), and I soon started taking shots of passing cormorants, which proved difficult in the prevailing light conditions, not to mention that the birds are travelling at speed. As I have mentioned, this species mainly breeds well offshore, so I suspect the activity of gathering nesting material is seldom witnessed or photographed.

The material they collected consisted mostly of seagrass, and the occasional twig, some nearly as long as the bird, which they dived for. There was a lot of it in suspension in the water, so I'm guessing that they only had to gather it up. Some dives lasted up to 40 seconds. They seemed surprisingly fussy about the material as they sometimes emerged with a bundle, which they then rejected and dived again. Mostly the material was collected by only single birds, but occasionally an apparent pair dived together. As they sped passed, I noted that some appeared to be in moult (see lower image), but thought that unlikely during breeding, as moult imposes considerable 'stress' on birds. At home, looking at HANZAB (the bible of Australasian birding), it appears that they produce these white nuptial plumes and filoplumes, (on back and neck) during the breeding season. I have to confess I've never noticed these before.

Well the fishing was ****, the birding was good and I've learnt a lot about Black-faced Cormorants!

[NB. These birds are fully protected. Some fisherman need to take note of the irritatingly frequent littering advert on TV. The amount of discarded material at many of the sites we visited, is nothing short of appalling]

Tasmanian Birding Stalwart Dies

2011-07-31T09:04:00.004+10:00

On Thursday 28th July, following a protracted illness, Dr. W.(Bill) C. Wakefield died. Many people in the northern suburbs of Hobart will remember him as their local GP, but probably didn't know of his passionate interest in birds. In recent years, Mainland birders would have met him on one of the many seabird trips that he organised or participated in, out of Eaglehawk Neck on the Tasman Peninsula.

Although our paths rarely crossed in recent years, for over 40 years I've always considered Bill a close friend. I and my family still have fond memories of our holidays at Coles Bay that we shared with both his and Mike Newman's family. Of Bill, Mike and myself pushing his "tinnie" across Moulting Lagoon on an extremely hot day, probably wondering why we were doing it, only to find a small flock of waders that included both a Little and Long-toed Stint, both first records for the state! Of the wee drop (or two) of Glenfiddich that he produced to round off the day.

I first met Bill at Bird Observer's meetings (forerunner to Birds Tasmania), but got to know him better during the heady days of the Tasmanian Shorebirds Study Group in the 70s, when the group started cannon netting gulls and waders. Our enthusiasm sometimes got the better of us as I recall the pair of us using a small cannon net on Lauderdale Beach to catch and band Silver Gulls. I assumed he had the necessary "authority" by way of permits, and he assumed I had--suffice to say that neither of us had! I also recall that he insisted on continuing long after dark, and we could only read the band numbers by the light cast from a neighbouring petrol station.

I have many other memories of course, and they all illustrate Bill's great enthusiasm and care about Tasmania's birds. I, and I'm sure many others, will miss him. My condolences go to his wife, Els, and his three sons, Gavin, Andrew and David.

Thank Goodness for Auto-focus

2011-07-21T07:36:00.000+10:00

About a month ago, I received an email telling me about a sighting of 4 Crested Grebe at Orielton Lagoon, seen during the annual winter gull count conducted by Birds Tasmania. The note mentioned 2 adults, an immature and a juvenile. The latter quite unusual here. Crested Grebe are not that common in Tasmania, with most sightings from Lake Dulverton, the Derwent River in the Granton area and at Orielton Lagoon. At times, at the latter site, they have numbered up to 40 or more, but in recent times, they have been conspicuous by their absence.
I've found that early morning on still days is the best, or at least the easiest time to look for ducks and grebes at this venue. As luck would have it, the day following receipt of the email, was ideal if cool (around freezing point) and I set forth.
Early morning on Sorell causeway is not the ideal birding spot, with the commuter traffic whistling past, but fortunately there's a 'lay-by' mid way from which much of the lagoon can be scanned. (Watching from within your vehicle is a good option here). A quick look suggested that there wasn't much about, save for several Musk Duck and a raft of Hoary-headed Grebe, numbering perhaps a dozen. The numbers of both the Crested and Hoaryheads have been low recently, and I suspect that the high Mainland rainfall is to blame. The numbers of grebes and also the Eurasian Coot seen in Tasmania, fluctuate widely, and they only breed here in small numbers, so it's reasonable to assume that most are Mainland bred birds. When I first came to Tasmania, over 40 years ago, I didn't see a single Coot for over 2 years, and this puzzled me as Sharland's Tasmanian Birds declared it to be "generally common". But when they did appear they were 'everywhere', with some flocks in the Derwent River consisting of over a thousand birds.
A visual sweep of the lagoon showed no sign of the Crested Grebes. Alongside where I had parked, a single male Musk Duck was diving for food. I haven't had much luck trying to photograph this species, not that they rate highly on my "must do" list, so I thought I'd give it a go.

I've been waiting for minor eye surgery, as luck would have it, on my "good" eye, the right--I can't actually see whether the image is in focus or not, something of a handicap using a telephoto lens. The low angle light didn't help photographing an all black bird either. Well as you can see from the accompanying images, I did manage a few shots, nothing to write home about, but definitely thanks to the benefits of auto-focus. One of the images shows the duck eating a crab, and in the several dives that I witnessed, crabs were obviously the food of choice. I'm not sure what I thought Musk Duck's diet is, but I didn't expect it to include crabs. Literature suggests aquatic insects, but also crayfish, so perhaps crabs aren't that unusual. The lower shot taken as the bird dived, shows the stiff tail, peculiar to both this species and also Blue-billed Duck.
Later views of the lagoon suggested that the sought after Crested Grebes had moved on, but it's often worth a look as you cross this causeway.
[I've had my eye surgery and I can "see" again, what a difference!]

Roadkill Feast for Brown Falcon

2011-05-22T09:29:00.008+10:00

Hoping that the low cloud would eventually lift, I had delayed my departure for a morning's birding to the South Arm area. The commuter traffic had long gone and I was just cruising, cursing yet another heavily overcast day that was not very conducive for photography. I passed a Brown Falcon feeding on the carcass of a freshly roadkilled rabbit, a not that unusual occurrence, but most likely to occur mid winter when conditions are harsher. I slowed, but drove on, as from my experience stopping close to any bird alongside of the road is a recipe for the bird to rapidly depart. A kilometre on, I changed my mind (also a not unusual occurrence!).

Two U-turns later, I slowed to a crawl, worrying about how close I dare get. Fortunately there was a shallow and wide drain on my side of the road, and I headed down and stopped. The falcon eyed me off, but kept feeding. I took a few distant shots, but realised I needed to get closer. Gingerly, keeping my eye on the 'brownie', I edged closer. It kept on feeding. Still virtually 2 road widths away, I stopped. I watched the falcon for the next several minutes, taking the occasional shot as it tore chunks of flesh off the rabbit, and gulped the meat down. It fed rather frantically as if it hadn't eaten for ages, but perhaps also knowing that once the ever present Forest Ravens found the carcass, it wouldn't get a look in.

Ravens and Brown Falcons have an uneasy relationship at best, and I only recall seeing them feeding together once. That was in mid winter in the highlands close to the Great Lake. Heavy snow had fallen and a single Raven and a 'brownie' were feeding side by side on the carcass of a long dead Brush Possum. Probably neither had eaten for sometime, and chasing each other would have been counter productive anyway.

I think this bird is most likely in its' first year, judging from the colouration, and as yet lacks the skills of its' parents and will take whatever it can get. It gave an excellent opportunity to get some shots, but in the low light many suffered from 'movement'--the bird was feeding rather frantically. The shot at top left almost looks as if the bird was 'mantling', but it was in fact stopping itself overbalancing as it vigorously tore off pieces of meat. 'Mantling' is a term describing the action of a bird of prey as it spreads its' wings over prey thus hiding it from other predators. It's a falconry term and comes from the old English word for a cloak. Non raptors also perform this act and I've seen Grey Butcherbirds mantling.

Inevitably, a passing car flushed the falcon off the roadside, and it flew into the lower branches of a nearby gum only to be mobbed by several bush birds, led by Noisy Miners. I decided to move away, stopping only to move the carcass onto the verge to enable the raptor to feed rather more safely. The rest of the morning seemed rather mundane after that.

Little Gems...... Southern Emu-wren

2011-04-13T08:53:00.011+10:00

I thought it was time I ventured farther afield, and with the run of great weather last week, I headed to the Gordon Road and into the South West National Park. Well it nearly didn't happen as the clear weather around Hobart, turned to heavy mist and later thick fog in the Derwent Valley, but more in hope than expectation, I pressed on, and I'm glad I did.

I finally drove clear of the fog at the Thumbs lookout, the highest point on the Gordon Road, and the weather beyond was fine, still and without a cloud in the sky. Time to start birding. I made several stops along the road, mostly alongside button grass plains, in search of one of my favourites, Striated Fieldwrens, and I wasn't disappointed. Although these birds are found widely around the state, my 'mental' picture of them is in these plains, singing from the tops of button grass stems, particularly during spring. But I'm digressing.

On one of these 'birding' stops, I
caught sight of an orange blob in a distant flowering banksia. I had hit 'pay dirt'! A single Southern Emu-wren, but I was sure there would be more. The area was beyond a drainage ditch on the edge of a vast button grass plain and among stunted burnt tea tree and hakea, cutting grass and sedges, with the odd regrowth bushy banksia marginata. It was extremely boggy. Pulling on gum boots I slopped my way towards them, trying hard, and failing, to avoid the ends of the burnt tea trees.

In an area of less than an acre and
all within 30 metres of the road, I found 2, possibly 3, family groups of Emu Wrens and I spent the next hour or so watching them as they went about their business. I say watching, but in reality, I spent more time watching the movement of grasses and shrubbery, as they hunted for insects, occasionally climbing higher to look around. All this was possible because of the total stillness of the day. By "pishing" and "squeaking", I occasionally managed to entice them close enough to get some images, but to say they were shy is an understatement, they mostly just observed me through the grass. Infrequently they gave a single note call, not unlike a pipit's, and for a while I thought there must be some other species present too. They spent some of the time on the ground, searching around the edges of the numerous pools, but never more than 'inches' from cover. In the past I've noted that they usually carried their long fine tail feathers 'cocked', but as you can see from the images, they weren't. Perhaps this is related to the breeding season being over. Late morning the action just stopped, and I have no idea where they disappeared to, but I know from experience they have a great ability to hide in clumps of cutting grass for extended periods and I just counted myself fortunate to have enjoyed their company. I sploshed my way back to the car, covered in much mud and bearing the 'scars' from burnt shrubbery, but feeling exhilarated and very content.

Southern Emu-wrens are by no means rare in Tasmania, but they can be difficult to locate. Much of the west and south west coast is arguably their stronghold, but they're also found in highland areas far from the coast.

Visit from an Escapee!

2011-03-30T14:58:00.004+11:00

Several times lately I've heard a bird call that I couldn't identify, from somewhere close to my house. Frustratingly, I had failed to even locate it. That was until yesterday afternoon. Sitting in front of my PC with doors and windows open, I heard a nearby commotion. Something had the local Noisy Miners and Little Wattlebirds stirred up and I went outside to investigate.

Clearly their focus was on next door's Ash tree, but equally obviously it was deep among the foliage. I had searched for several minutes without success when a bird shot out of the tree and down the garden. I had a fleeting view of a beautiful green parrot, quite large and a great flyer, as it sped away.

Early this morning, I heard that call again, this time from my own garden. I grabbed a camera and a quick search revealed that it was in an angophora. I closely approached that tree, but again failed to find it before it took off, screeching, disappearing over adjacent gardens. Shrugging my shoulders and trudging back towards the house, somewhat disappointed, I happened to look towards a neighbour's Coral Gum, and there it was! Well I guess I shouldn't get too excited, it is after all an escapee, most probably an Alexandrine's Parakeet. It seems to lack some of the markings of that species, but perhaps it's a young bird. Maybe there's someone out there who might put me straight if that's incorrect. Alexandrine's is a native of India, but a fairly commonly kept aviary bird. I'm not a fan of cage birds, but I suspect this individual may not survive long in the wild, certainly if the local miners and wattlebirds have any say. [It appears to actually be a female Rose-ringed Parakeet--also from the Indian sub-continent--my thanks to Neil, see comments]

Beautiful as this bird may be, introduced bird species often end up as pests. Many owe their presence in the wild, to aviary escapes. Some threaten our own bird species. The Rainbow Lorikeet springs to mind as a species that interbreeds with native species and has the potential to do serious damage to fruit crops. The cost of eradication, if this problem is not dealt with quickly, could be enormous.

"Fat Man" and Robin

2011-03-25T08:07:00.004+11:00

Monday morning and hankering to go out birding before the rain forecast for the rest of the week. The 'mountain' was clear; to Hobartians the 'mountain' refers to Mt. Wellington that is often a good indication of weather to come. So I headed off to one of the many walking tracks on the mountain. It was still early and quite mild as I climbed towards the Organ Pipes (a rock feature of the Mtn.) and it at least sounded promising with the still air filled with the familiar sound of calling Crescent Honeyeaters. Although these honeyeaters are not really flocking birds, during autumn they are often found in groups just after sunrise, calling loudly. Loudly enough in fact to drown out all other bird calls. Most appeared to be juveniles and soon started to disperse through the light scrub, some feeding on the flowering banksia, some chasing flying insects and yet others, mostly males, chasing each other. A few Tasmanian Scrubwren quietly disappeared into the scrub as I approached, emerging soon after I'd passed, but this promising start was cut short by light rain, followed by increasing wind and I beat a retreat to the car. Somewhat frustrated, and hoping that the rain was only around the mountain, I decided to try the nearby Waterworks Reserve which is more sheltered and at a lower altitude.

I drove to the far car park and headed off. Almost immediately stopping to ID a bird call that I was sure I knew but couldn't place. Eventually the 'penny dropped', it was a Bassian Thrush, well actually three, presumably males announcing occupation of their respective territories. I've rarely seen these birds at this reserve, although I suspect they're quite common here, and as they continued to call, headed off in 'pursuit'. Before I could get a good bearing on them, they stopped calling, and light rain began to fall. I wandered on, hoping that it would improve, it didn't. I took shelter in the scrub alongside the track under towering gums.

It proved to be a good move, not perhaps photographically, but certainly for birding. Perhaps insects were being disturbed by the light rain, perhaps the birds were taking shelter too, whatever, I was soon 'surrounded' by numerous birds. Strong-billed Honeyeaters overhead, Silvereyes 'tanging' their way through the shrubs, The occasional Tasmanian Thornbill scolded me, as did several scrubwrens. Grey Fantails flitted round me, as did the Golden Whistler pictured, often coming within a few feet of me. Very exciting and it was difficult to know where to look next!

After the initial excitement, I began hoping for a chance to get a few shots, despite the appallingly poor light for photography. A weak call that sounded like the contact call of a distant Dusky Robin, grabbed my attention, and on a dead branch lower down the slope I spotted a small bird that by it's 'rotundness' I realised was a Beautiful Firetail. I immediately named it "fat man". I managed to get a few usable shots of this juvenile firetail as it sat forlornly calling, to no avail, for the next several minutes. I had hoped its' parents might put in an appearance, but they didn't. A 'real' Dusky Robin call heralded the appearance of a family group of 4 or 5 of them, as they foraged around for insects, occasionally coming close enough for a photo. opp., before the arrival of a group of Grey-shrike Thrush caused them a brief panic. They too were after insects, sometimes on the ground, but more often on the trunks of the gums. The robins were soon back, and a juvenile Fan-tailed Cuckoo put in a brief appearance, but the rain persisted and, reluctantly, I headed back to the car. An excellent morning's birding despite, or perhaps because of, the weather, giving me enough memories to last me through a very wet week.

Dusky Robins and More

2011-03-13T07:33:00.005+11:00

I've walked around a nearby reserve on numerous occasions lately, mainly because it's flat and easy walking as I'm still trying to throw off a persistent chest infection. I feel I'm on nodding terms with some of the feathered inhabitants, but have refrained so far from giving them individual names; it's tempting, but my imagination doesn't stretch that far. The upside of walking the same areas regularly is that it gives the observer an insight into the daily lives and movements of some species.

Their presence or otherwise seems, probably predictably, linked largely to temperature. On a cold morning I've usually found several species foraging on the ground, even species like Dusky Woodswallows and Tree Martins that are normally found hawking in flight. Insects grounded, birds seek insects on ground!

Dusky Robins, a Tasmanian endemic, are almost exclusively ground feeders, although they will chase the odd flying insect, or pick at insects on bark. Surprisingly, they take their share of skinks (small lizards) too.
On most mornings, I hear their mournful two note contact call, as family groups move through the light bush. The young still showing a few rufous feathers as they 'emerge' from the juvenile plumage. On one recent morning, I decided to observe them more closely and stood amongst the scrub just watching, taking the odd photograph as the opportunity offered. They spend much of their time on a low branch or stump, usually facing the sun and just watching for any movement among the woodland debris. Dropping down and seizing their prey, often returning to a perch to consume it. On the menu this particular morning appeared to be mostly small grubs. Their grey brown plumage matches the surroundings all too well (from my perspective) and I missed several good photographic opportunities as I'd failed to notice a close approach until they moved on.

Nearby I occasionally caught sight of a pair of Scarlet Robins; the female coming close enough to photograph; feeding in much the same style as the Duskys, although they often picked insects off the acacia leaves, as did small flocks of Superb Fairy-wrens, Brown and Yellow-rumped Thornbills and Silvereyes. Unlike the Dusky Robins, which forage widely through the woodland, the several pairs of Scarlet Robin at this venue rarely move far from their territories, and are present, with males announcing their occupation, all year round.

At one point the bush went silent, and from experience this usually means that a predator is present. I had earlier heard the unmistakable Brown Falcon "kekeke" call as one flew over, and Forest Ravens can sometimes have a similar effect, and there was no lack of them. But I'd had a very brief view of a bird landing in a nearby pine, and although through the binoculars I could only see a portion of the bird, it was enough to confirm that it was a Brown Goshawk. It had presumably seen me too as it flew off. After such events the bush can remain silent for a good while and I was considering moving on, but luck must have been with me, as a juvenile Fan-tailed Cuckoo almost immediately flew into the area. I took a few shots, in hope more than expectation in the mottled light. As I stood there reviewing the recently taken images, I noticed a movement to my right and there in all its' glory was an adult Fan-tailed Cuckoo right in front of me! Time for a few shots before it too moved on. I decided that I'd probably used up all my good fortune and it was time to get back to review my handiwork on my PC. A very interesting morning.

Pied Oystercatcher Roost.

2011-03-05T08:11:00.003+11:00

I hadn't been out birding for several days, and in some frustration, finally chose a less than optimal day to try my luck and drove down to the Lauderdale Spit. With the temperature in single digits and a gale force wind blowing, as it had for the last week, it probably wasn't the best spot for someone suffering a debilitating chest complaint, but I persevered.
As you might guess, most birds had found a more sheltered spot, but it did highlight one significant issue--the importance of this area of Ralph's Bay to Pied Oystercatchers. The Australian population of this oystercatcher is estimated at around 10,000 individuals, and on this small spit I counted 353, and there may have been others I missed hunkered down in the vegetation. That's well over 3% of the entire (World) population. Many of these birds would normally roost in other bays, but the severe weather and high tides meant that this was one of the few roost sites left.
In some states the Pied Oystercatcher is on the "threatened" list, mainly due to habitat loss and human disturbance. The recent failed attempt to develop this area for canal style housing, shows just how easily this can occur.
I was able to get close enough to take a few shots without disturbing the flock--important at any time, more so in the conditions--and the image shows a small part of the roost.

Photo Opp....Musk Lorikeets

2011-02-14T08:04:00.005+11:00

This is one photo opportunity that I gladly pass on! At the moment, in almost any Hobart suburb, you'll find the eucalyptus ficifolia flowering. Their attractive bright red to pink flowers are at their peak, and you can't miss them and neither do the local Musk Lorikeets.
I've chosen a few images from the umpteen that I've taken in the last few days. Even if you're not into photography, it's worth spending a while just watching these stunningly coloured parrots. Within a kilometre of my home there must be a dozen or more of these flowering gums, most with a swag of feeding lorikeets, I even have one in my garden, unfortunately not the easiest to access for photography (poor planning on my part!). The Musks tend to feed early morning and late afternoon, but you'll probably find a few at any time of day. Choose a tree in bright conditions to best show off the colourful mix of flowers and bird. Be patient, approach the tree slowly, they'll usually quickly accept your presence, keep still and you're in business. You'll probably need to take quite a few shots to get a worthwhile image as they are fast moving feeders and often feed hanging upside down.
If you spend time watching, you'll note that most are paired, and you can't fail to note their constant contact calls, occasionally punctuated by screeching as they squabble. Several birds exhibited eye damage, and I saw several birds fly into nearby windows, particularly in overcast conditions.
You may at times find the noise all too much! I've included the shot at above left to show a lorikeet "shivering" with tail fanned, this is a threat display, probably a bird getting too close to its' other half. This is sometimes followed by chasing, but seldom any serious confrontations and is over quickly.
I suspect that those living in close proximity to these flowering gums may not be as enthusiastic about them as I am! Their screeching can be pretty wearing. But this eucalypt has a short flowering season and peace will return soon.
[I've posted other images on my pbase site, link at right]

Alice Springs Interlude Pt.1

2011-01-17T14:34:00.006+11:00

In the Spring of 2010 (late Sept-early Oct) My son, Matthew and I spent 10 days in the Alice Springs area. As many birders would be aware, the "Red Centre" had in 2010, one of the highest rainfall in many years, and we took the opportunity to bird and photograph in the general area of Alice Springs. While I'm in the throes of deciding the blog's future, I thought I'd take the opportunity to post shots of some of the birds we saw. Because of the rain, the desert had vast swathes of plants and shrubs, many of them in flower, which in turn had attracted large numbers of birds, many of them breeding. A fantastic trip.

Part one shows Babblers and Robins.

Photographers Please Note!!

2011-01-12T17:31:00.002+11:00

During the last few weeks I've come across several would be bird photographers. I can say with some believe that they are readers of this blog as they seem to be visiting the same areas that I've written about, so on the face of it I should be pleased! Nonetheless their activities have caused me some angst. If your going to involve yourself in this pursuit there is a need to understand it comes with some "rules". If you use playback, use it sparingly, not for extended periods. Don't sit near birds that are nesting for extended periods--in this day of digital imagery, it's quite unnecessary anyway to photograph at nest sites and impinges on the activities of the birds. Don't unnecessarily disturb roosting birds. One photographer returned to the same nest site for at least three days, and was surprised that the birds had apparently "disappeared". In talking to a few of them, they appear to have only a rudimentary knowledge of birds, so I suspect they lack the understanding of the need to learn the skills that pertain to bird friendly photography. Too many appear to only be interested in their photography with no concern for the birds.
The welfare of the birds should be paramount in your approach to photography.

Season's Greetings

2010-12-20T09:47:00.003+11:00

Have a good one! Stay safe

Image of Tree Martin taken at Goat Bluff, South Arm. A few pairs have nessted in the cliffs for many years.

Lauderdale Spit....recent visitors

2010-12-20T09:03:00.016+11:00

In the past few weeks I've often stopped off at the Lauderdale Spit for a quick visit, usually while en route to other venues on the South Arm Peninsula. I'm often lured there by the sight of roosting Bar-tailed Godwits, clearly observable from a moving car, but for the first time in several years, they have been been 'missing'. I've had to settle for the occasional Caspian Tern, or the scores of Pied Oystercatchers that regularly roost on the spit.
So I was delighted to find a few migrants have recently taken up residence, at least temporarily, on the spit, and have managed to photograph them as you can see by the accompanying images.
Last Summer two Grey-tailed Tattler and two Red Knot spent much of the Summer on this small peninsula, so it's interesting to speculate whether the two Knot and the solitary Tattler are the same birds. I suspect they probably are.
I've spent a good while watching them as they feed and although the Knot and Tattler are of a similar size they're after quite different prey. The Tattler seems only interested in the small crabs that abound in the shallow water. The Knot appear to be mainly interested in small molluscs, which they find by probing the mud, also usually in shallow water. Both species swallow the prey whole.
I've only seen an Eastern Curlew on one occasion at the spit this summer, and managed a distant shot before it flew down to the bay to the south, which is its' preferred feeding area. It was once common to see 10 or more Curlew feeding in this bay, but numbers have seriously declined and it's rare to see more than a solitary bird there nowadays.
Yesterday, I noticed the 2 Knot were roosting with the 70 or so Red-necked Stint alongside the highway, and sought a closer view. It's possible to get quite close to the stint while walking along the edge of the highway. Not the most 'restful' birding, with cars only a few metres away! Observing through the tall grass I could see the stint and several pairs of Red-capped Plover, and noted a Black-fronted Plover among them. The latter is a bird usually found around the margins of fresh or brackish water, and locally most frequently found around farm dams and similar, so it was surprising to find it among the stint and in a salt water environment. This was a 'first' for me at Lauderdale and I was pleased to get the accompanying image.

Whistlers Galore

2010-11-07T09:20:00.008+11:00

Whistlers were the highlights of 2 recent outings. At this time of year, in their chosen habitats, these two species are often the dominant songsters. The Golden Whistler is common in many of the more open forested areas, but often "encroaches" into denser, wetter, scrubby areas, preferred by the Olive Whistler. On forest edges and along stream sides, the two seem to co-habit quite amicably.
I must have photographed male Golden Whistlers on numerous occasions, but I never knock back the chance to try again. Fortunately they're among the easiest bush birds to photograph at this time of year, calling from favoured perches, and often allowing close approach. Males spend a great deal of time chasing other males while they're establishing their territories.
I recently saw 8 males in a melee during an early morning walk in the Risdon Brook Park on Hobart's eastern shore, but once they've established their territories, their 'battles' are limited to calling. I've noted that they frequently react to other birds calling, and seem to try to 'drown' them out, and anyone standing close to a calling male can attest to the strength of the call.
Olive Whistlers occupy generally denser, often wetter habitats, commonly along stream sides. Whereas the 'goldens' are extroverts, the olives are generally retiring, calling from within the vegetation. I did witness, or perhaps more accurately. I heard a vocal duel recently on the edge of the Sandspit River in the Wielangta Forest. Three calling olive males, chased one another among the tea tree thickets, giving me only the occasional glimpse of them. One must have taken pity on me, and stopped for a photo opp., and I scrambled the accompanying shot, taken close to my photographic gear's limits. I have been to this spot along the stream side many times and rarely miss out on recording them, albeit often only from a single call. Golden Whistlers are common here too. I spent an hour or so in the area, recording, among others, Strong-billed and Yellow-throated Honeyeaters, Pink Robin, Scrubtit and Tasmanian Scrubwren, leaving when the wind rose and finally quietened the whistlers.
The Sandspit River track at the northern end has become somewhat overgrown, no doubt due to the rain and lack of use while the road bridge has been closed. The good news is that work is finally being carried out to reconstruct the bridge, the bad news, for me at least, was that I managed to pick up 4 leeches as I pushed my way along the track. I didn't discover this for some hours later and after they had gorged on my blood (top stuff). A reminder to take more precautions next visit.

Don Jones........Birds Tasmania

2010-10-11T06:59:00.002+11:00

I've just received a short note announcing the death at the weekend of Don Jones. Don has been the hard working Secretary of Birds Tasmania for a number of years. He will be sorely missed by members and his many friends.

Free Feed Pierson's Point

2010-08-08T07:27:00.007+10:00

Before you rush off to partake, this feed is strictly for the birds.
A recent outing with my son's family to the Peter Murrell Reserve at Kingston, in part to find Forty-spotted Pardalote, ended in a visit to nearby Pierson's Point. We had failed to find any 40spots, and thought that we'd give this area at Tinderbox a look. It was late morning by the time we got there, and I set off round the perimeter of the small reserve, looking in the gums in areas that I have found 40spots in the past. Again I failed, but on rejoining the others found that I had really missed all the action. My son, Matthew, himself a keen birder and photographer, had taken excellent shots of Green Rosellas and Dusky Robins. I hurriedly tried to emulate him, but the best of the day had passed and it was now quite overcast and the children were hankering after the promised lunch at "Maccas". I made a mental note to return.
So about a fortnight later, I made an early morning return visit which turned up trumps.
The local council is undertaking a "beautification" exercise of this area, which is the grounds of the old gun battery, WWII vintage, which overlooks the Derwent River estuary.
My first shots were of members of a group of Dusky Robins, enjoying the spoils from the newly disturbed soil, and utilising the newly installed picnic tables as vantage points to spot insects. Also enjoying it were two groups of Superb Fairy-wrens. But there were many more birds feeding on the ground. It was about now the penny dropped, I'm not sure why it took so long. The attraction was the newly sown grass seed. Green and Eastern Rosellas, Yellow-rumped Thornbills, and Tasmanian Native Hen were all feasting on the seed, and their desire to feed made them easier to approach.
There is a concrete lookout, no doubt originally the control centre for the guns, now windowless, and a large Blue Gum, in the middle of the reserve, and with the gum in flower was attracting a range of birds. I made my way over to the blockhouse, entered and happened to glance through a 'window' on the far side of the room. By one of the picnic tables some 30 metres away, was what I first thought were small animals, but on closer inspection were a covey of Brown Quail, six in all. They too were enjoying the free feed. Although not uncommon, quail seem to have made something of a recovery in the last 12 months. Until last summer, I had rarely seen quail around my usual haunts for some years, but following good Spring rain in 2009, I have noted them in several local reserves.
They were too far away for quality images, but it was fascinating watching them over 30 minutes or more. It was the first time for many years that I've been able to see much more than their tail end after flushing them. They spent most of their time fairly tightly grouped as they fed, and allowed cars to come and go without bothering them unduly. Eventually I must have made one movement too many and alarmed them. They scuttled off keeping closely bunched, heads down, again looking more like a large articulated mammal.
I was more than pleased to have such good views of the quail, but there were other 'delights' about. Two Swift Parrots calling from the top of nearby gums were my first of the season, and a calling Shining Bronze-cuckoo, also present in the Peter Murrell, suggest that this species has made an unusually early arrival. Black-headed, Crescent and New Holland Honeyeaters were particularly active, as were both Spotted and (also newly arrived) Striated Pardalotes, but still no 40spots sighted, although with all the action, I only made a somewhat half hearted attempt to find them. Despite not seeing the 40Spots, it was a most enjoyable morning.

Welcome Winter Visitors

2010-07-24T08:08:00.001+10:00

One of the delights of Winter in many urban gardens in Tasmania, is the arrival of honeyeaters to feed on the array of "exotic" native plants that flower at this time of year. As I sit typing this story, I can hear the unmistakable "jik" call of a Crescent Honeyeater, just outside the window. It's there to feed on the red flowers of a callistemon (bottlebrush), now unfortunately showing its' 40 years plus, and beginning to slowly die. Every now and then, I try my hand at photographing them. I say them, but in truth, I've no idea how many visit, rarely seeing more than one at any one time. They do seem to have a routine, arriving via a closeby dense shrub, and warily watching for some time before showing themselves. The male Crescent Honeyeaters then usually announce themselves by singing, before partaking of the pollen. The females, with their relatively subdued plumage, slink in, trying to stay as unobtrusive as possible, largely because if a male Crescent sees them, they'll be chased off.
Another unobtrusive visitor, far fewer in number, are the Eastern Spinebills. In fact, it was only while trying to photograph the Crescents that I realised that they are regulars too. Difficult to photograph at the best of times, with their hyped up behaviour with constant flicking of wings and tail, the image at top is the only worthwhile shot I managed in several attempts.
Every once in awhile, a flock of Silvereyes will descend on the garden, their arrival preceded by the constant "tang tang" call that keeps the flock together. I counted at least 30 birds in one arriving flock, feeding on both blossom and insects, mainly whitefly and greenfly.
Welcome visitors to me maybe, but their arrival, if spotted, is anathema to the resident Little Wattlebirds. With much snapping of bills, they plough into the shrubs holding the visitors, and chasing them with considerable vigour, when they take flight.
Since I started this story a month has passed and I realised if I didn't publish it soon, Spring will have sprung, and I think maybe it already has. On a recent visit to Risdon Brook Park, I heard then saw 2, almost certainly a pair, Fan-tailed Cuckoos, seemingly on the prowl, and at Peter Murrell Reserve, I heard a Horsfield's Bronze-cuckoo calling. With the continuing dry weather here in the south-east of Tasmania, together with sunny days, one might be forgiven for believing that Spring has indeed arrived. But I don't think we've quite down with Winter yet!

Little Tassie Battler..........40Spotted Pardalote

2010-07-11T09:29:00.008+10:00

A recent article in Wingspan (Birds Australia's magazine) highlighted the plight of the Forty-spotted Pardalote, a species endemic to Tasmania. In essence, the article showed that there has been a marked decline in numbers, from an estimated 3,520 birds in 1986-7, to only 1500 or so in the latest survey, conducted in 2009-10. This iconic Tasmanian bird, one of our smallest species, has long been on the endangered list.

40spots are around 10cm in length and they spend much of their life in the outer canopy of eucalypts, and anyone who has looked for them knows just how difficult they can be to find. Probably never numerous, they're found mainly in White Peppermints Eucalyptus viminalis, known as Manna Gums, a species naturally found along the coasts of south-east Tasmania. Colonies are found mainly on Maria and Bruny Islands and on the Tinderbox Peninsula south of Hobart.

The article speculates the reasons for the decline, suggesting climate change, drought and die-back disease in eucalypts.

In recent years I and many visiting birders, have looked and found them in the Peter Murrell Reserve at Kingston, south of Hobart. During my visits this last autumn, I have only occasionally seen them there, and always at the same location. To be fair, I haven't made a point of looking for them, and only found them because I heard them calling. But my overall impression is that there are very few about, and this impression is typical of other birders experience.

I am not a biologist, but my concern is that we seem to know surprisingly little about these birds. It's well known that a major food source is "manna", the conical scales spun by lerp species on the underside of eucalypt leaves. These sugary scales are known as honeydew, and are also eaten by a range of birds, including Black-headed, Yellow-throated, and Crescent Honeyeaters. These lerps are considered a pest as they skeletonise the leaves, which in turn can have an impact on the wellbeing of the tree. My observations locally suggest that there is a paucity of these insects on eucalypts this winter, so is this the "x factor"? Two winters ago the numbers of lerp 'infested" trees was considerable, and many Striated Pardalotes overwintered rather than migrate to the Mainland as they normally do. Were the numbers of lerps the reason?

Obviously the above is just my observations, and only in a small area of the state, but to my mind it does highlight some of the gaps in our understanding of what makes pardalotes 'tick'.

A much greater effort needs to be applied to the wellbeing of the 40Spot and soon. The degrading of the Peter Murrell Reserve, with ever more recreational activity and industrial and housing development on the surrounds, suggests that we're not taking this issue seriously. A more proactive approach is called for.

NB. The accompanying images were taken at the Peter Murrell Reserve about 2 1/2 years ago. I noted that these birds were regularly coming down to a bush on the side of a hill, and was grateful for a relatively easy chance to photograph them. I surmised they might be feeding nearby young, but they didn't appear to be carrying food and were unfazed by my presence. I moved away to better understand what was going on. They were in fact visiting a nest site situated behind a thick piece of bark near the base of a Manna Gum. Further watching revealed that the visiting birds were mainly juveniles, and that a family of 40spots appeared to be using this as a "funk" hole.

Masked Lapwing Feast.

2010-06-12T07:34:00.008+10:00

I just caught the end of a TV story a few days ago. It was refuting comments that the Melbourne Cup carnival was in danger of being called off because of an infestation of cockchafer beetles. These little critters, in their larval form, had caused the grass to die, (it eats the roots). In turn, this caused "divoting" of the turf, and deterioration of the track. Having almost no interest in horse racing, I can't say that the story had much interest to me, but it did remind that a few months ago, I had an encounter of sorts with these little "beasts".
I was returning home from the bread run, via the Bellerive waterfront, armed as usual with a camera. It had rained overnight and was still threatening, so my birding was limited to a quick scan of the Derwent River. The nearby point had the usual cormorants, gulls and Crested Terns on, and farther down the estuary I could see several Gannets fishing. Nearer, a few Sooty Oystercatchers were loafing on the rocks, but there was little else of interest, except a pair of Masked Lapwing. They're often there, or close by, so common as to not evoke any interest, but lacking any other chance of photography, I took a few shots. One thing led to another, and I began to wonder what they were feeding on. Multiple shots later, I finally found out, cockchafers.
Cockchafers are a common lawn pest, and I recall a remedy that I suspect would probably be frowned on in these 'waterwise' days--flood the lawn with water, forcing the larva out of the ground and presumably drowning them in the process. The overnight rain had the same effect, giving the plovers a feast. Perhaps a large flock of Masked Lapwing on Flemington race course might have helped rid them of the larva, but judging by the number of them caught by 2 birds on a few square metres of grass, it would have required a very, very large flock.

Priorities.....Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo

2010-05-26T10:28:00.003+10:00

I'm sure we all have a set of unwritten priorities when it comes to everyday life. So I'm also sure
that you would do the same thing as I did yesterday morning, in similar circumstances.
I was alerted by my visiting granddaughter Caitlyn, in her usual dramatic way, that a terrible catastrophe was taking place in the toilet. "Water's going everywhere grandpa, come quickly". Something was not well with the cistern, and water was spraying everywhere, including over me, and I soon found myself standing in a few millimetres of an ever widening pool of water, clean I hasten to add! I stopped the flow, but as I walked back through the kitchen to put on some old (and dry) clothes before fixing the problem, I glanced out of the window and down the garden. High in the angophora near the bottom of the garden, I could see a solitary large bird, unmistakably a Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo.
They visit on occasions to feed on the Banksia integrifolia flowers and seeds, but this was the first visit of the year. Any thought of fixing the cistern or cleaning up, quickly disappeared, as I grabbed a camera and headed off down the garden. Unfortunately, the bird had flown. So thinking that was that, I headed back up the garden, but on nearing the house, I heard the unmistakable "kee-ow" scream of their contact call coming from the other side of a banksia spinulosa close to the house. Frustratingly, I couldn't even see the bird, let alone photograph it--foiled again. Eventually it flew back down the garden onto to one of the "integrifolias", finally giving me my photo opp., images shown. As I closed on the cockatoo at top right, I realised it was not alone in the banksia. as a head popped up on the far side, this time a male, pictured at left, and a third bird called from nearby, so they were most likely a family group. After 15 or so minutes, I heard an approaching flock of their fellows, about 18 in all, and "my group" soon joined them. all flying off to the east.
But it wasn't quite over yet. As I climbed the steps to the backdoor, the local flock of 40 or more Galahs, flew over screeching and obviously agitated, usually a sign of a predator about. But the object of their concern was a passing Pelican, fairly uncommon over my garden, flying high to who knows where.
So finally back to the cleanup, but feeling a whole lot more contented than I had a short while ago.

European Wasps and Birds

2010-05-21T09:07:00.010+10:00

A recent story in the local paper, The Mercury, caught my attention, and told of losses being sustained by Tamar area grape growers. This time they weren't aiming their ire at birds, such as the Silvereye, but at the European Wasp. (Most vineyards are now netted). Wasps were apparently accidentally introduced to Tasmania around 1959, possibly from New Zealand, and they are now frequently encountered around much of the state. Unlike bees, they are able to sting multiple times and, speaking from personal experience, it's much more painful! The growers complaint was that they are losing up to 30% of their crop to wasps (eating fruit) and they wanted a public campaign to combat them.
My thoughts about the story related to several species of our birds that actually regularly include this pest in their diet, including Noisy Miners, Yellow Wattlebirds, Grey Shrike-thrush and the ubiquitous Silver Gull, but I suspect there are several others. The miners and wattlebirds almost certainly don't target them, but encounter them when both are attracted to flowering
eucalypts. Shrike-thrushes and gulls certainly do, as I recount below.
While birding in the Meehan Range, I came across a pool of water that had collected in a wheel rut and flushed a shrike-thrush from the water's edge. Cursing that I had missed a photo opp. by my lack of vigilance, I was surprised when it quickly returned to the poolside. Over the next several minutes I photographed it on the ground and in the nearby scrub, and despite repeatedly flushing it, it was always drawn back to the pool, but didn't appear to drink. Later, looking more closely at the pool I noted that there was a procession of wasps visiting the edge of the water, presumably to drink. It was then that the penny dropped, the shrike-thrush wasn't drinking but had found a great source of 'easy' food--the wasps.
I had noted and blogged a previous occasion that I had witnessed Silver Gulls targeting wasps, and a few days ago I took the accompanying images of a similar event, this time on Bellerive waterfront. I suspect that it's a regular occurrence. Several gulls lined up, some few metres apart, on the river's edge, facing towards the sun, probably to silhouette the prey. Individual wasps were flying from the shore across the water. The gulls would spot them and give chase as the wasps climbed ever higher. To catch them, the gulls had to use all their flying ability, but I never saw them miss. They would usually descend back to the rocks to eat them, but I couldn't determine whether they removed the sting before swallowing. I'd estimate that they were catching maybe 20 or 30 an hour, so it's probably not going to make too much of a dent in wasp numbers, but every little helps.
From all this a few questions arise. Where are the wasps going to (they're heading off across the Derwent River), or for that matter where are they all coming from, as there was a fairly constant procession of them? Why do the gulls bother with them as they would appear to have very little nutritional value?

Lake Dulverton.....Worth a Look

2010-04-20T11:45:00.010+10:00

I stopped fairly briefly at Lake Dulverton, Oatlands, about 10 days ago, and took the accompanying images. For the past several years this lake has been effectively dry, save for a small section next to the high street, but thanks to good winter rain, it's looking more like its' old self. The view at right was taken from the "far side" looking towards the township. I always start from the highway side, looking first at the dammed area which during the last decade has held the only water of any moment for wildfowl. Here were several Black Swan, some with cygnets ranging from near flying to still covered in down. It also appeared probable that Eurasian Coot had bred here too, among the dense floating vegetation, as there were several juvenile coot, one pictured below. I'd heard reports of Hardheads at the lake, and this is where they often hangout, but the combination of looking towards the early morning sun and the thick vegetation made for difficult viewing conditions. To get a better view I walked along the top of the grassed dam, but apart from getting several shots of coot, swan and a couple of Purple Swamphens, I didn't have any better luck, although walking back I spotted a roost of several Little Pied Cormorants in the top of a waterside fir.
I drove round to the camper van parking area and noted as I approached, a few duck and coot on the foreshore and drove closer to investigate. A driveby found a few duck including 2 Australian Shelduck, a pair of Australasian Shoveler, several coot and a few Chestnut Teal. Realising that I had no hope of approaching them on foot without flushing them, I drove along the lake edge and 'shot' them out of the window (accompanying images). Feeling that I'd done my photography "thing", I set about getting an appreciation of the bird life. There were several hundred coot, numerous Black Duck, Chestnut Teal, several 'flotillas' of Hoary-headed Grebe, scores of Black Swan, a scattering of Australasian Shoveler and Wood Duck, but still no sign of Harhead or Great Crested Grebe. Lake Dulverton was once the home of Great Cresteds in Tasmania, and the only site that they regularly bred at. When the main lake dried they bred in the small dammed area that I have previously mentioned, but although I know they nested and laid eggs, I don't believe they ever successfully raised any young. It was here that on one memorable morning I saw 6 Australsian Bitterns on the shoreline, most probably refugees from other drying and dried out lakes. A species that is now rarely seen in this state.
I drove on round the lake to the headland opposite the island. This spot gives a good view of the eastern end of the lake, and has been the best site to see the great cresteds from and appears the preferred area for Blue-billed Ducks too.Here were many more duck, swans and coot, as well as several White-faced Herons chasing grasshoppers along the top of the second dam.
I walked out along this fairly recently built dam, more in hope than expectation, and after much searching drew a blank on the grebes. As I reached the far side a stiffening breeze got up and I decided to call it quits. It also seemed to have some effect on the ducks too, as a procession of duck, mainly pairs of Blacks, flew over towards the eastern section. A small flock of duck showing white in the wings, and obviously not Blacks, flew rapidly towards me and I took a few shots as they passed--"my' Hardheads! About a dozen off them, alighting about 200 metres away, they were quickly 'swallowed up' in the floating vegetation. I drove off feeling somewhat satisfied.
If you're in this neck of the woods, it's also worth having a look at the Mud Walls dam. It's situated on the Mud Walls road about 3 kilometres from the junction of the Midland Highway and the "Richmond road", B31. It's easy viewing from the roadside and if you don't wish to panic the waterfowl, you'd be advised to stay in your vehicle. There were several hundred duck on the water and in the surrounding paddocks as I returned from Oatlands. They included 300 plus Australian Shelduck, numerous Black Duck and Chestnut Teal, 40 odd Australasian Shoveler, around 60 Wood Duck and 2 Grey Teal. This is one of the few sites that I have regularly seen Grey Teal. Both sites are worth a look.

The Ubiquitous Silvereye

2010-03-31T14:57:00.008+11:00

At this time of year Silvereyes must be one of the most abundant birds about in many parts of Tasmania, often in large flocks. They're so common that I rarely even bother to photograph them. So usually when I do I know things must be quiet! In this instance that wasn't quite so.
I was making yet another trip to Gould's Lagoon, hoping that the water level had dropped to the point that the crakes might be tempted to feed outside the reed beds. I was particularly after some shots of Spotless Crakes, the shyest of the two species seen at Gould's. I had managed a few distant shots a week or so before, but on this day I was out of luck, scrambling only a few distant shots of an Australian Crake, a species I have frequently photographed here before. The crakes seem to be especially timid at present, perhaps caused by recent cutting of the tall roadside vegetation. There was plenty of other birds to see, including 2 Pelicans and a group of Little Black Cormorants "communally" fishing. A passing Caspian Tern, an infrequent visitor, made a noisy pass at a juvenile Swamp Harrier as it hawked over the lagoon, many Chestnut Teal (including a pair with small ducklings), and the usual Black Duck and Shoveler. A Great Egret roosting with the cormorants was possibly a recent arrival.
Finding no 'Spotless' on the main lagoon, I wandered over to the railway embankment where I have occasionally seen them, but more in hope than expectation. So I wasn't disappointed! There were sizeable flocks of Greenfinch and Goldfinch feeding on rose hips and thistle seed heads. There was also a loose flock of Silvereyes, numbering over 50; flocks sometimes number in the hundreds. Walking back along the water's edge, I found myself among a number of tall Fennel plants that had gone to seed. They're a common weed around the Hobart area, growing mainly on disturbed ground, and although they can be eaten, locals rarely bother with them. Seeing a small brown job, which turned out to be a Brown Thornbill, I ventured farther into the Fennel where I was soon joined by the Silvereyes. As they soon gave me every opportunity to photograph them, I obliged.
Back home with the images on the computer, I was somewhat surprised to notice that they weren't eating the Fennel seeds as I had assumed. Looking closely at the images (such as the one above) I could clearly see that they were after the greenfly and whitefly that was liberally coating the Fennel seed heads. Since many gardeners and grape growers often see Silvereyes as "pests", perhaps finding that they also feed on greenfly and whitefly, they may be looked on just a little more kindly.

Siberia Bound.....Red-necked Stint

2010-03-31T07:18:00.008+11:00

Now looking decidedly portly, and having shed their drab greys, most of the local Red-necked Stint are preparing for their annual, epic journey. These small waders will shortly be winging their way back to their breeding grounds in north-east Siberia, several thousand kilometres away, stopping occasionally to top up their fat reserves. Weighing less than 30 grams when they arrived in our spring, by now most will have put on as much as 15 grams for this journey. Only the juvenile birds, born last northern summer, will overwinter here in Tasmania, and in other parts of Australia.
Most of the stint that I observed a few days ago, both at Lauderdale, where I took the accompanying images, and along the South Arm Neck, were showing variable degrees of breeding plumage, but none had yet attained their full rich colouring.
The flock at Lauderdale numbered around 150 stint, together with a dozen or more Double-banded Plover, 30 plus Red-capped Plover and a solitary Red Knot. The stint numbers being the highest I've noted at this venue this summer. South Arm Neck had many more, around 400, but I also noted a distant flock in flight, out of West Bay, that had perhaps as many again.
Ralph's Bay at Lauderdale also turned on another of those feeding frenzies common at this time of year. Large numbers of Silver Gulls, a few Crested Terns and over 40 Black-fronted Cormorants were chasing some unseen prey, probably small fish, all over the bay, even to the shallows alongside the road. The sheer exuberance and persistence of the birds during these events, makes exciting viewing.

Clear Lagoon.....Black-fronted Dotterel

2010-03-14T09:43:00.006+11:00

Clear Lagoon, situated at Sandford (but only a stone's throw from Ralph's Bay at Lauderdale) is probably best described as a shallow, ephemeral water body, certainly in the last 10 or so years its few hectares have been totally dry. Good rains last Winter and early Spring filled it to capacity, attracting waterfowl from far and wide. A few Chestnut Teal and Black Swan managed to breed there, as apparently did a pair of Hoary-headed Grebe, surprisingly, given how shallow the lagoon is.
Predictably, after the recent warm Summer, the area of water has been drastically reduced, but it's surrounded by mud, glorious mud.
A few days ago I stopped along Forest Road, which runs along the southern side of the lagoon, to 'scope' the area. Distantly I could see 2 or 3 hundred waterfowl roosting in the remaining water and on closer inspection these turned out to be almost all Chestnut Teal, with a group of a dozen or so Wood Duck and a solitary Black Swan, the latter I suspect has been injured. I could also see a few grey blobs, which from their number I guessed were probably Red-necked Stint that had flown over from Lauderdale. Anyway it was worth a closer look.
My initial concern on entering this reserve, was to avoid flushing the waterfowl, since the duck shooting season had started the previous weekend. (Why oh why do we still allow duck shooting--and call it 'sport'!). When I got a better view of the "stint", they turned out to be Black-fronted Dotterel, in fact 44 of them, one of the largest groups I've seen in Tasmania. Among them was a solitary Red-necked Stint and a Double-banded Plover. By the number of juvenile plumaged blackfronts, they've had a good year.
I can still recall my first Tasmanian sighting of a blackfront. It was in the Tasmanian Midlands at Tunbridge. I was crossing the Tin Dish River (a stream) and flushed a bird from the stony shore. It flew a few metres (yards actually, this was in the Summer of 1971) and propped, giving me a chance to identify it. I have the event recorded in the margin of my copy of Sharland's "Tasmanian Birds", a bird he described as "uncommon". Since that time there has been a modest increase and they can no longer be considered as uncommon in the drier parts of the state.
After counting the dotterels ( I usually call them plover, but I was taken to task after my blog on them. In my defence, I feel it's only a matter of time that they, like other past "dotterels" will be renamed plovers), I wandered around the perimeter, noting the swarms of insects, which in turn was attracting good numbers of Welcome Swallows and Tree Martins. Flocks of White-fronted Chats were at the feast too, although getting close enough to photograph them in an area with little cover, proved a challenge. Small flocks of Australasian Pipits and Yellow-rumped Thornbills flushed from the dry grass as I passed. A group of the blackfronts that had been feeding out on the mud started to feed on the lagoon edge too and briefly gave a 'photo opp', as did the sole Double-banded Plover. So it was pleasing to once again add Clear Lagoon to my list of places worth a visit after so many dry and, from a birders perspective, barren years.

A Morning at Orielton Lagoon

2010-03-04T09:30:00.007+11:00

I have to confess that I seldom bird Orielton Lagoon these days, mainly because I have fond memories of its hey day back in the 70s and early 80s. Changes to the waterflow, brought about after serious algae blooms, altered the area drastically. Despite all that, for wader buffs in particular, it's still one of the best sites in southern Tasmania.
I have a routine that I invariably follow. First stop is Cemetery Point on the eastern side of the lagoon. From there I can scan the shoreline, and on this visit a few days ago, I quickly found a group of 5 Pacific Golden Plover, roosting close to some 60 plus Red-necked Stint. I managed a distant shot of 2, "glowing" golden in the early morning sun. While watching these, a pair of Great Cormorants flew close by, and I noted the white patches on their "thighs" denoting that they were in breeding condition, and berating myself for missing a photo opp.. I needn't have worried, because another pair followed shortly after, and a few minutes later a flock of 20 or so followed them, all showing the white patch.
Next stop is the northern end of the lagoon, approached via the stile on Shark Point Road, Gum boots are advisable here, at least if you intend to get to grips with the waders. I scattered a small flock of Australasian Pipits, and the odd rabbit, but little else until I reached the wet mud. A quick scan found 2 flocks of Red-necked Stint, totaling around three hundred or more, and several small groups of Red-capped Plovers. The latter seems to have had a bumper breeding year, with good numbers at several coastal sites. Closing on the waders, I picked out several Double-banded Plovers, hidden amongst the drying pancakes of mud, recently arrived, no doubt, from their breeding grounds in New Zealand. On the outer edge of the mud, I counted 21 Eastern Curlew, and although they were still several hundred metres away, they took flight. To the east I could see a few remaining adult Kelp Gulls, and the odd juvenile, still occupying their breeding grounds. Beyond them a solitary Little Pied Cormorant and 8 Australian Pelican, were roosting on the creek bank. The Kelp Gulls spotted me and, as usual, flew around me calling loudly. Not to be outdone, a pair of Caspian Terns briefly joined in. I wandered over towards the golf course, hoping to find more Golden Plovers, but only turned up a pair of Pied Oystercatchers (and several golf balls).
My third stop was, as usual, at the outfall works at Midway Point, on the western side of the lagoon. At high tide, this spot is the favoured roost site for the Bar-tailed Godwit and Common Greenshank. The tide was only of moderate height and they were not on the favoured small spit, but walking further along the shoreline, I found them on a sand bar, around 30 Bartails and 20 Greenshank, a few of the Bartails attaining breeding plumage. With care, they can often be fairly closely approached, although I did note the fresh paw marks of an errant dog (the lagoon is a RAMSAR site). I decided to take to the water, hoping to get closer without undue disturbance, as I have many times in the past. Everything was progressing well until I realised that I was fast sinking into the silt, something I hadn't encountered before. Panic by me as I flailed around trying to extricate myself from my predicament, followed by first the greenshanks flying off, and shortly after that by the Bartails, something that I had hoped to avoid. I 'righted' myself long enough to get a parting shot of the Bartails, before returning to the task of extrication. I succeeded only after filling my gum boots with mud and water. Fortunately, the 2 species flock alighted close by, but I was not about to cause them further disturbance, and anyway, I had had enough excitement for one day.
[RAMSAR is the international convention signed at Ramsar, Iran in 1971. It's aim is the conservation of important wetlands. There are 65 such sites in Australia]

A Painted Button-Quail

2010-02-11T15:40:00.003+11:00

Although I'm out and about birding more than most, at least on the local scene, I rarely see anything other than the expected, and this one so very nearly 'got away'.
I visited the Redgate section of the Meehan Range at Cambridge last Tuesday, with high expectations of getting a few more shots of the Satin Flycatchers or Blue-winged Parrots. Last week I had counted a group of no less than eleven 'Satins' at one point, mostly juveniles and quite the largest number I have ever seen at one time. But the weather intervened, and although it didn't rain, the light conditions became very poor, at least from a photographic standpoint. I had even wound the camera up to ISO 800, something I've not bothered doing previously, because if the light's that bad, you're probably going to battle to get any worthwhile images.
I was about to leave, when I noticed a movement on a nearby bank. Obviously a bird and creeping towards an area of thick scrub. Expecting it to be a Bronzewing pigeon as I had heard what I assumed was that species calling from nearby, but just as it disappeared I ID it as a Quail, a species I have yet to photograph, and rarely see these days. I waited for it to emerge from 'my side' of the scrub, but to no avail. Some minutes later I spotted it again slowly moving across a rise about 30 metres away. So with little enthusiasm or expectation, and with great difficulty in focusing on this very cryptic bird in the gloom, I took several shots. Before I had time to use the binoculars, it had crept off.
An hour or so later and back home, I scanned the few images that I had taken that morning, and surprise, surprise! As you can see from the accompanying image, it turned out to be a Painted Button-quail. Decidedly uncommon these days, or perhaps I should say, surprisingly rarely recorded, and only the third time I've seen this species in Tasmania. Reading up on them, I see that they too have an 'oom oom' call, similar to the bronzewing's, something to remember. Not the best image, it's highly enlarged, but it did make my morning.

Year of the Blue-winged Parrot

2010-02-11T07:07:00.006+11:00

Judging from the amount of correspondence I have received, it looks as if the past breeding season has been particularly successful for the Blue-winged Parrot, at least in Tasmania's South-East. These parrots disperse to suitable grasslands post breeding, and it's then that numbers of them are first noticed. My first encounter this year was at Mortimer Bay, Sandford, in small parties of 3 to 5, most probably family groups, back in early January, an earlier date than usual. But I've had reports from as far South as Coningham, also from Kingston, Cambridge, Risdon Brook Park and the Coal River valley. Most were seen in grasslands, as you might expect, although I've seen several groups in the wooded areas of the Meehan Range.
I suspect that the good Winter and Spring rains, the highest rainfall for many years, was the main driver. It produced abundant grass, the seeds, according to the literature, being a major food source. The partly digested seeds are regurgitated to feed the nestlings, and also the female during incubation. From personal experience, for much of the time while they're nesting, you're much more likely to hear, rather than see them. Their "tinkling" call can often be heard as they fly high overhead, to and from the nest site.
Both the accompanying photographs were taken in the Meehan Range in the last few days. The upper shot, of a female I believe, was in a flock of 7 that came down to drink. After drinking, they flew to the shallow end of the pool to wash where they were quickly joined by several Green Rosellas, a not infrequent event. They seem to form a sort of "mutual defence pact", the Bluewings being very alert to anything unusual. The lower image is of a juvenile bird that appeared on its lonesome, stayed briefly, obviously didn't like the look of me, and flew off.
This small parrot, (it's about the size of a domestic budgerigar), is one of my favourites and some years ago now, I was fortunate enough to be involved in a project on this species. The project included a visit to the 'Woolnorth' property in the far North West corner of Tasmania, in Autumn, where they gather prior to migrating to the Australian Mainland. Despite the horrendously wet conditions we encountered, the sight of flocks of 3 or 4 hundred Bluewings wheeling en masse, often being harried by Australian Hobbys, both great aerialists, is one of those memories that I treasure.

Rumblings at Gould's Lagoon.......Crakes

2010-01-30T10:26:00.014+11:00

Suffering from some undiagnosed 'issue' with my lower leg, and having limited mobility, I have taken the opportunity to visit Gould's Lagoon at Granton several times and just sit among the reeds and watch and wait. The main aim of this exercise was to get some shots of Little Grassbirds, which at the moment are both numerous and active. Most are juvenile birds from what appears to have been a successful breeding season. On my first visit in early January, most of the youngsters were still at least partly dependent on their parents for food and the birds called frequently, so I got a good idea of their whereabouts--rather useful in thick reedbeds! It also meant that by imitating their call (a series of 2 to 4 rather mournful whistles), I had a chance of attracting them. However, this often meant their approach was rather skulking, and, frustratingly, I could see them only a metre or so away, looking at me rather quizzically through the mass of reeds, and certainly quite impossible to photograph.
While I sat there, trying hard not to dwell too much on the fact that my backside was getting ever damper, I noticed a movement to my left, low among the reeds several metres away. Feeding avidly on unseen invertebrates in the shallow (stinking!) water, and approaching ever closer, was an adult Australian Crake. I can't say that it was entirely unexpected, as I had seen a Spotless Crake in an adjacent reedbed from the roadway, but a great find nonetheless. I should mention here that it was a very still morning, no wind, and the sounds and smells from nearby houses were wafting my way. The crake, one of three I saw that first morning, seemed unfazed by sounds of large construction vehicles passing, a goods train, passing cyclists talking loudly, or even my camera shutter, which in the still, sounded like a machine gun. It was soon joined by a youngster (seen above), which kept close in to the reeds. Presumably it hadn't yet quite got used to the sounds of "civilisation", because the slightest sound saw it disappear into the vegetation. The adult came ever closer, and I took many shots. It's pertinent to mention here that these birds are only the size of a starling (with rather larger legs), so close is "good". I couldn't believe it hadn't seen me as I wasn't hidden, and the sound of the shutter seemed so loud. Well, I've found one noise it definitely didn't like--the rumblings of my stomach! I'm afraid I've 'suffered' all my adult life with a grumbling stomach. I've kept meetings amused, certainly when among people I know, but among strangers it can be embarrassing, and I've taken to sitting in the back row if possible. The crake took off at lightning speed, and at first I looked around for the cause, but a repeat performance half an hour later, revealed me as the culprit.
I've been back a few times since, and the juvenile crake image was taken more recently and it's now beginning to show the typical crake markings. I've also managed several shots of the grassbirds, but they appear without warning to feed on the edge of the reeds, and several times I've missed great opportunities while watching the crakes. One is sometimes faced with a dilemma, do I concentrate on the crakes or the grassbirds, and although I must have taken hundreds of shots of the crakes and few of the grassbirds, I do still find the crakes rather fascinating. I just hope they'll forgive my stomach.
Afterthought
Perhaps I should have added a possible explanation to the "rumblings" before you dismiss the story as fanciful or worse. The various inhabitants communicate in the reedbeds by various calls, these crakes by a single note not dissimilar to a quieter, less harsh version of the swamphen's. They share this environment with Purple Swamphen, Tasmanian Native Hen, the occasional Coot, other crakes and possibly Lewin's Rail. Between them they have a variety of calls, many could be described as grunts or guttural in nature. So I suspect the crake with a youngster in tow on hearing a rumbling stomach, mistook it for one of these other inhabitants and using the precautionary principle, took off. Certainly the arrival of an adult Swamphen with juvenile in tow, caused a similar flap.
NB. If you wish to see more images of the crakes, click "Alan Fletcher's Bird Photo's" link at right, then click "Wetland Birds" .

Birds of Ironhouse Point

2010-01-18T09:48:00.007+11:00

Ironhouse Point is situated on Tasmania's Eastcoast to the East of St. Mary's, and although it's not a recognised birding spot, the birds here are fairly typical of those of much of the coast from the Freycinet Peninsula to St. Helens. I spent around a week here, at a resort, with friends and family over the Christmas break, so birding was conducted somewhat ad hoc. Much of the forested area was 'devastated' in the extensive bushfires around 3 years ago, and is now mostly typical after fire regrowth.
I managed to bird most mornings, before everyone roused, and from many years of birding during the Summer months on the Eastcoast, this is the pick of the day, before the almost inevitable, euphemistically called, sea breeze comes in--a cooling, often strong, onshore wind. I totalled just over 50 species of birds, which included a few, such as Australasian Gannet and Black-faced Cormorant, only seen offshore, and single pairs of both Hooded Plover and Pied Oystercatcher on the beach. Surprisingly, honeyeaters were 'light on', the commonest and most widespread being Little Wattlebird, but also the odd Yellow Wattlebird, numerous New Holland, and several Yellow-throated. Most mornings found a range of birds sunning themselves in the early sun, including Pallid, Fan-tailed and Horsfield's Bronze cuckoos , but also Australasian Pipit (common, no skylarks), Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike, Dusky Woodswallow and Welcome Swallow.
The resort here boasts a substantial impoundment (stocked with trout), which attracted Great Cormorant, Pelican, Black Swan and a pair of Musk Duck. A drying swamp area behind the dunes held a surprise. While watching Superb Fairy-wrens, I could hear a solitary Striated Fieldwren calling, and in trying to find it, flushed first one, then another Latham's Snipe, an uncommon bird on this coast.
Brown and Yellow-rumped Thornbills were common, as were Grey Fantail. I recorded both Flame and Dusky Robins, but no Scarlets. Silvereye were widespread, particularly in the coastal wattles, as were the fairy-wrens, some seen carrying nesting material. A few White-fronted Chat were seen, all in the dunes or feeding among the beach wrack. While on the subject of small passerines, I noted in the Bird Atlas records, that the only thornbill recorded here was the Tasmanian, whereas I saw and photographed both Brown and Yellowrumped only. It's a point that has "worried" me for some years, and this habitat is not typical Tasmanian Thornbill country. This isn't an isolated instance, and I feel that some birders at least, are unable to tell 'brown' from 'Tasmanian'. I would suggest that if in doubt, they omit. I have to admit to sometimes having difficulty myself!
Both Striated and Spotted Pardalotes were common here, but I failed to record a single raptor, although I had seen a Sea Eagle a few miles to the South. The 'higher' predators seem to consist of a few Grey Butcherbird, Grey Shrike-thrush and Kookaburra. The only parrot species observed was a few Green Rosella. Around the buildings were the inevitable House Sparrow, Goldfinch, Starling, and Blackbird, but surprisingly, I didn't see a single Greenfinch, a common bird in coastal wattles A large family of Tasmanian Native Hens utilised the grassed areas, competing at times with wallabies and wombats. The accompanying images were all shot at Ironhouse Point. Great to get away from my usual haunts and a great family holiday too.

Trials & Tribulations of Hooded Plover

2010-01-05T11:38:00.009+11:00

I'm well aware of many of the conservation issues faced by Hooded Plovers while breeding here in Tasmania, but seldom "see" it in action. A family getaway over the Christmas break gave me an all too closeup of the problems facing them while breeding. We stayed at a resort South of Falmouth boasting 2 beautiful, pure white, typical eastcoast beaches and I took little time in sussing them out for bird life. I quickly found a pair of Pied Oystercatchers which appeared to be the only shorebirds occupying either beach. But during an early morning walk the following day, I photographed a single Hooded Plover (at right) among the beach wrack. While walking back up the track through the dunes, I flushed another and came within an ace of stepping on their 3 eggs in a shallow scrape, mid track. From my observations over the years, this is not their preferred site, but as you can see from the image at top left, ever increasing tide heights have produced "sand cliffs", and the beaches they prefer are no longer available to safely nest on. Since the bush track was wide and not used by most of the holidaymakers, I thought that it was reasonably secure. How wrong I was!
A few days later, while I was fishing off the breakwater, a series of fellow visitors were enjoying rides on a jet ski nearby. As I found the constant sound of the jet ski a little wearing, I wasn't exactly sympathetic when it broke down on the next beach up. I didn't see what subsequently happened, so I can only guess. But the upshot was that a 4WD vehicle tried to access the bush track, probably to 'recover' the jet ski, and while trying (and failing) to get to the beach, completely buried the plover's nest, something I only discovered the following day. I'm not apportioning blame here, I would probably have done the same myself in similar circumstances.
A few days later on a nearby beach, my son found another hoodie's nest, this time at the top of a considerably wider beach and on the slope of the dune. In the meantime, I was attempting to photograph a pair of hoodies feeding on the tide line, undoubtedly the owners of the nest. I was all lined up as they neared me, but, concentrating on the birds, I was unaware of an approaching runner with dog. I caught sight of the dog at the last minute and captured the image at left.
These kinds of disturbance are, sadly, all too common, and these eastcoast beaches are relatively undisturbed. It does not augur well for the hoodies future, especially with global warming and subsequently higher tide heights kicking in and in so doing, denying these and other shorebirds, feeding and breeding places.

Have A Merry & Safe Christmas

2009-12-21T15:50:00.002+11:00

Park Hotspot

2009-12-19T07:03:00.007+11:00

I've spent many hours wandering the more distant parts of Risdon Brook Park, near Risdon Vale, on the eastern shore of the Derwent River. This area is a popular spot for walkers, cyclists, joggers and families, although they largely keep to the impoundments perimeter track. Visiting in early December, I took a track along the side of a small valley that I've found to be a good birding spot. My 'schedule' for this spot, is to stand and listen, noting the calling birds. First 'cab off the rank' on this morning was the unmistakable "tinkling" call of a Blue-winged Parrot. They usually call from the tops of the dead trees higher up the side of the valley, but are hard to spot, and I failed to find them on this morning, but I had consolation of finding a juvenile Flame Robin, still being fed by its parents. Calls came thick and fast after that, the distinctive call of a Satin Flycatcher and competing Golden Whistlers, contact calls of foraging Silvereyes, Green Rosellas and Musk Lorikeets. Close by Brown Thornbills and Superb Fairy-wrens scolded me as I passed. As I stopped to watch them I noticed a bird that I couldn't ID, rapidly cross the valley, and I spent a while trying to locate it. It turned out to be a juvenile Horsfields Bronze-cuckoo, which appeared to be begging food from both the thornbills and wrens. While still focused on these birds, I heard the distinctive, somewhat mournful call of a Beautiful Firetail from the depths of the thick scrub lining the small creek running through the valley. Not uncommon in this reserve, I often hear them calling, but much less often see them. I stopped and sat at a vantage point overlooking the valley and was soon rewarded. Rarely getting to see them, let alone photograph them, this proved to be a red letter day. At least 2 pairs of Firetails, one seeming to have a helper in tow, were nest building. They were taking the material, in this case long grass stems, most measuring 30 cms or more, from high up the valley side, down into the scrub at the bottom. They passed many times, slowly and cautiously up, and rapidly down. As you can see by the accompanying images, they sometimes gave me a "photo opp.". It appeared that only one of the pair carried the material, the other riding shotgun. In the middle of all this excitement, I had several times heard a hawk calling from the canopy of nearby gums, but was reluctant to move. In the end curiosity got the better of me, and after some time searching, located the nest of a Brown Goshawk, high in a (photograhically) distant eucalypt. Surprisingly, since I was clearly visible to the female goshawk in the photo., she remained on the nest. I watched for sometime before the hawk eventually flew off and I wandered back to my 'firetail'
spot. In the next half hour or so, I was visited by Yellow Throated and Black-headed Honeyeaters, Silvereyes, a calling male Satin Flycatcher, Grey Shrike-thrush, and a Golden Whistler. I briefly heard a Swift Parrot from one of the tall blue gums, a species I have suspected may breed here. The goshawk continued to visit the nest, which almost certainly contained young, always calling as it neared, and only the female. Where was the male? I soon found out. A pair of Grey Currawong approached and was vigorously attacked by the previously unseen male, which briefly perched on a dead limb across the valley, before, presumably, returning to his vantage spot overlooking the nest site. Perhaps this was why the female called when approaching the nest? Didn't want to be mistaken for an intruder! As the morning wore on, the area quietened down, and I reluctantly left, having had another rewarding day in the park.

Vibrant Gould's Lagoon

2009-11-27T09:14:00.007+11:00

I've made a couple of 'pilgrimages' to Gould's Lagoon at Granton this week, largely to get usable shots of Little Grassbirds. In the case of the grassbirds, it's still work in progress, for although I've shown the image at right, I've still got a way to go before I get what I'm after. Grassbirds aside, the visits have certainly been worthwhile, with evidence of a range of birds successfully breeding there.
My first surprise, as I stood watching the grassbirds, some carrying food, flit from reed clump to reed clump, was a family of Eurasian Coot, with four newly hatched chicks. I haven't noted any coot breeding here before, and during my visits this week, I counted a total of 4 pairs with young or eggs. While this may not be surprising given the large numbers often seen around this state, coot breeding in Tasmania is a relatively recent event. As recently as 1995, Bob Green in his "Fauna of Tasmania", reported "only rarely is it found breeding here". Other species with young included Chestnut Teal, Black Duck, Purple Swamphen, and Tasmanian Native Hen. As a local remarked, "they'll probably end up as harrier food", and indeed the local Swamp Harriers frequently patrol the reed beds.
I had received an email from a reader, saying that she had seen a Latham's Snipe at "Gould's", and indicating that it was near the "barking dogs" on the northern side of the lagoon. Not seeing that many snipe in recent years, I thought it was worth a look. Sure enough, as I walked along the track (and despite the accompaniment of barking dogs), I heard the snipe as it flushed and I watched as it sought shelter in the delta of a nearby stream. I sought a better view, but before I got there, a second individual flushed, which in turn flushed the first, and all I could do is watch as they flew the length of the lagoon and pitched down near the main road.
On my second visit (in light rain), and despite my wary approach, I flushed an individual, which once again pitched down in the nearby streamside vegetation. I walked back to the bank above said stream and stood scanning the heavily vegetated far bank. After what seemed ages, and as I was about to venture closer, I realised I was looking straight at the snipe, perhaps 20 metres away! I took several shots, all identical, one shown above. How lucky can you get!. When reviewing the shots on my PC, I realised what an exquisitely marked bird this snipe is--absolutely beautiful. Once again, Gould's Lagoon is worth a visit.

The Spirit of King Canute...Red Knot

2009-11-17T19:35:00.008+11:00

One of the few Latin bird names I remember is that of the Red Knot, Calidris canutus. It stems from my now distant childhood and the story of King Canute. As I recall, it was then suggested that his courtiers told him that he was so powerful that he could command the tide not to come in and he got very wet in the process--stupid git! Today, I see that the boot's on the other foot, so to speak. It's now suggested that he got wet to prove to his courtiers that he was not more powerful than God.
For many years I thought that this event was immortalised in the Latin canutus referring to the Knot. I fondly watched Knot feed on the tide line, and occasionally take to the water, reinforcing this thought. The truth is that the call of the Knot is written as "knut knut", which also happens to be the old Norse word for Canute. I think I prefer my version--another childhood story shattered.
Recently the spit at Lauderdale, in Ralph's Bay, has been graced with the presence of first one, and more recently two, Red Knot. Not that uncommon in Tasmania, and often seen in the company of Bar-tailed Godwit, numbers in recent years suggest a decline. Surprisingly tame, I took the opportunity to get numerous images, a few shown here, while looking for a mystery wader that was reported to be among the Red-necked Stint flock. One bird that I did see, as I parked my vehicle alongside of the nearby canal, was a sandpiper that I suspect was a Common Sandpiper--a decidedly uncommon sandpiper in Tasmania. I did subsequently see 'the' reported Common Sandpiper at the mouth of the Clarence Plains Rivulet, across the bay from Lauderdale.
While in the area, I visited the now full, Clear and Rushy Lagoons, observing a flock of 30+ Hardhead, another uncommon species in this state.

Ralph's Bay's Feisty Locals

2009-11-09T06:36:00.003+11:00

Perhaps mirroring the fight that locals (and many others) fought over the Ralph's Bay Conservation Area at Lauderdale, I witnessed the event, pictured at left, a few days ago.
For many years a pair of Pied Oystercatchers have nested on the end of the Lauderdale Spit. Unfortunately for this resident pair, it's also a spot where many other birds choose to roost at the top of the tide. Mostly they have to contend with other oystercatchers, sometimes numbering a hundred or more, one of the largest roosts you'll find anywhere. But they also need to defend their territory against gulls, Silver, Kelp and Pacific, and, as you can see, the odd White-faced Heron. The pair of oystercatchers at left of the image, started on the oystercatchers that I had disturbed from further down this little peninsula, and once 'wound up', took on all-comers. This hapless heron, that had been fishing in the drainage ditch as the tide rose, lobbed down almost in front of them and immediately became the centre of their attention. Confused at first, it tried several times to find another spot to land, but these oystercatchers were determined that shouldn't happen! Amazing what determined locals can do when their 'space' is threatened!

......and on to Orielton Lagoon

2009-10-30T13:58:00.008+11:00

Feeling that I'd probably already used up my birding luck (see previous blog), I wasn't that enthusiastic about donning gum boots and plodding through the Orielton mud. Gone are the halcyon days when many of the rarer waders were seemingly regularly seen here. Such birds as Oriental Plover and Ruff spring to mind. Having said that, it's still one of the few places in southern Tasmania to see some of the less common migrant waders
My first surprise was to find a 'new' wetland, I believe courtesy of the release of 'grey' water from the nearby water treatment dams. With the high Winter and Spring rain, this water isn't required for irrigation purposes, but still has to go somewhere, hence the around one hectare wetland. My first encounter was with a Black-fronted Plover, well actually I only heard the characteristic "rattle" call, and sought it out. As I stood scanning the area of drying mud on the far side of the creek seeking the blackfont, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and only a few metres away. Second surprise, it was an Australian Crake, creeping away into the salt bush, flicking its' white under-tail as it did. This is the first I've ever seen here, and I've been a regular here for many years. Was the 'new' wetland the lure, or have they always been here?
I stood there for several minutes hoping to get a photo opp., but no reappearance, so back to the blackfronts. First one and then a second flew round, calling, and I got the impression that they were probably breeding close by. Moving on along the bank of the creek, about a 100 metres further on, I met 4 more blackfronts. Making a note to return to this spot for some attempt at photography I moved on, trying, unsuccessfully as it turned out, to avoid stirring up the breeding Kelp Gulls which "infest" the eastern side of this reserve. I quickly moved off, 'pursued' by calling gulls. They in turn disturbed a flock of Eastern Curlew and Bar-tailed Godwit, just visible a kilometre away, through the heat haze. I walked through the marsh towards the golf course to the East, disturbing a few Australasian Pipits and numerous Eurasian Skylarks. Overhead small flocks of Galahs and Corellas past, calling, and I scattered several family groups of White-fronted Chats. Keeping a wary eye on me were 2 pairs of Pied Oystercatcher, by their actions, breeding close by. My goal was a closer look at a flock of small waders, which proved, as expected, to be Red-necked Stint. Numbering around 500, one was colour flagged (banded in South Australia over 800kms away), and among their number was a solitary Sharp-tailed Sandpiper. Nearer the golf course, in a favourite posi., I could just make out a flock of Pacific Golden Plover, around 20. I left them in peace, and headed back to the blackfronts for an attempt at photography.
As you can see by the accompanying images, I was at least partially successful. These Black-fronted Plover have probably been 'pushed' out from the nearby overfull farm dams, as I've rarely recorded them here in recent years, and usually only an odd pair. I sat on the creek bank and 'allowed' them to come to me, which rather warily, they did, albeit on the far bank of the creek. But since I've only managed a few shots from the car before, I made the most of it.

"Late" Cattle Egrets

2009-10-23T13:51:00.002+11:00

En route to Orielton Lagoon for a change of birding venue, I chanced upon a small flock of Cattle Egrets on the northern side of the lagoon. Totaling 9 in all, they were feeding among a small flock of sheep, fairly close to the road. A quick U-turn and I was alongside the paddock, which made the egrets understandably nervous. I scrambled a few shots out of the car window before they edged further up the paddock.
In recent years, no doubt due to the lack of rain, I've found few Cattle Egrets in southern Tasmania. So the recent prolonged rain may have caused these egrets to hang on longer than usual, before migrating back to the Mainland. The individual pictured at right is sporting almost? the full breeding plumage, the first that I can recall seeing in Tasmania. A few others in the flock had partial breeding plumage, but most exhibited none.
As I drove the short distance to the bridge over Orielton Creek, a Little Egret flew over. Added to the 6 Crested Grebe I 'd seen from the Sorell Causeway, it made for an excellent start to my visit to the lagoon. More of that later.

Striated Pardalote--"orange-tipped"

2009-10-16T09:47:00.004+11:00

While looking for Striated Fieldwrens at Pipeclay Lagoon (I failed), I came across a pair of Striated Pardalotes with a nest hole in a low bank beneath an old fence line. Watching them from a distance, I realised that both birds had orange markings in their wings, rather than the usual yellow, one of which is shown at left. (You will need to click on the image to see this and you might like to compare it with the 'normal' type below).
The Tasmanian striateds, were once known as 'Yellow-tipped Pardalotes', but are now lumped with their Mainland counterparts. This species ranges over much of Australia, exhibits variable plumages and the spot in the wing ranges from yellow to red (consult your field guide!). The one thing they apparently have in common is their "pick-it-up" call, and this pair incessantly demonstrated that. Most Tasmanian striateds migrate to the Mainland in the Autumn, returning early in Spring.
Orange-tipped birds have been recorded in Tasmania from time to time, as has the red-tipped 'model', but this is the first that I've seen.
I'm not sure whether this pair will breed successfully, as they have chosen a site potentially subject to flooding. Much of the area is already inundated, sufficient to attract a pair of Black-fronted Plovers.

Just Passing....Gould's Lagoon

2009-10-06T14:48:00.006+11:00

I managed to fit about 20 minutes of birding at Gould's Lagoon last weekend, while on my way to a family get together at the Salmon Ponds. A little blustery, and overcast, but Gould's is almost always worth a look, and I even managed to add to my list for this location.
We parked on the side of the highway, crossing the road to cast our eyes over the reed beds, and saw the first of several Little Grassbirds, one carrying food, and I even managed a distant shot of one (below). A very 'nervous' Great Egret stalked the reeds beside the rail line, and we noted a number of paired male Australasian Shovelers involved in vigorous aerial chasing of unpaired males trying to "muscle" in.
Along the shoreline towards the partly rebuilt bird hide, a pair of Chestnut Teal herded their clutch of recently hatched ducklings, although I suspect, some at least, may well end up as Harrier food, as a pair of Swamp Harriers were regularly hunting over the reed beds. Among the Coot and Teal, I found the first of two, possibly a pair, of Dusky Moorhens, my first for this venue. This species, common over much of Eastern Australia, is slowly but surely colonising Tasmania, so it will be interesting to see whether they breed here.
Anxious family members, looking I thought, rather ostentatiously at their watches , finally pricked my conscience, and all too soon we moved on. All in all, a worthwhile 20 minutes.
[I didn't manage any shots of the moorhens, and the image at top, was taken earlier this year on the river at Richmond, where a few pairs bred]

"It's Not All Doom and Gloom"

2009-10-02T09:47:00.004+10:00

Early in September, Birds Tasmania played host to the Australasian Wader Study Group's 7th conference. Mike Newman, a long time Tasmanian birding stalwart, now a NSW resident, asked me to co-author a paper on long term observations on Pied Oystercatchers in South-East Tasmania. (I should mention here that I may have been the catalyst for Mike's long term interest and study of Pied Oystercatchers, and my contribution to the paper was minimal and 'historic' rather than recent). I'm not big on meetings these days, and I was surprised that I managed to 'survive' two days of papers and discussion. Probably tempered by meeting both old friends and new, who have a passion for the conservation of shorebirds.
I am not a member of AWSG these days--I was party to its' foundation--and I was for the most part a passive observer. But, there's always a but, after listening to the many papers on the state of play in the East Asian-Australasian Flyway (the route taken by waders flying between breeding grounds and wintering sites), I could only say it's pretty horrific. I was rash enough to voice my 'horror' of the decline of migrant wader numbers and destruction (euphemistically referred to as "reclamation") of their feeding grounds, particularly in South East Asia, and notably in South Korea. I also felt that the next conference would be reporting on further declines, but little would have been done about it. Ken Gosbell, chair of AWSG, countered by saying that "it's not all doom and gloom", and a discussion followed. There were some bright spots, but even on the Australian scene, sharing beach habitat with the general populace was of concern. Compliance with limits placed on beach use for bird conservation, by dog owners especially, was extremely low (I seem to recall about 17% in one study!). So even with these limitations in place, it's a struggle for our shorebirds. Ken did mention the close cooperation with Birds Korea and other overseas groups, and that was heartening, adding that a wealth of information has been gathered showing this serious decline in wader numbers. But I couldn't help feeling that the whole debate needs to be voiced at a higher level, and become a mainstream issue for conservation groups generally. I can only say that I was left feeling rather depressed--it may not be "all doom and gloom", but it's getting perilously close!
Birds Tasmania (chaired by Eric Woehler), deserves to be congratulated on a well run conference--the company and the refreshments were excellent.

Peter Murrell Reserve Surprise

2009-09-08T08:10:00.010+10:00

In need of a change of birding venue, midweek I birded the Peter Murrell reserve at Kingston. Having recently photographed both Spotted and Striated Pardalotes, I fondly thought I might have a good show of doing similarly with the 40 spots. In that I totally missed out--I didn't even see one. Starting at the northern carpark, I wandered along the western boundary, stopping to get a few distant images of Australasian Pipits and Yellow-rumped Thornbills. The latter, a particularly numerous species this Spring. On, past both ponds, I turned down over the bridge and looked (in vain) for the 40 spots--I find this is usually one of the best areas. There were numerous Black-headed Honeyeaters, and 2 or more pairs of Yellow Wattlebirds, but only Striated and Spotted Pardalotes. Following the horse riding track, I walked on into the large paddock to the South. At the far end of the paddock I no
ted a pair of Swamp Harriers in what I assume was some kind of nuptial chasing, as they flew in unison among the gums. Having missed out on the pardalotes, I thought they might prove to be worth an attempt at photography, so I ploughed on. Approaching the far side of the paddock, I flushed the female swampie out of a tree, and managed a few shots as she wheeled over me, gaining height. At this spot, adjacent to a large area of ferns and Blackberry entanglements, I noted a number of pairs of Superb Fairy-wrens popping up among the vegetation. Rarely missing an opportunity to photograph these exquisitely plumaged birds, I tried my luck. I moved back along the edge of the ferns, managing every now and then to get the odd shot or two of the males (one top right) . While photographing a calling male, I realised that he had some competition, as a number of other birds were calling. When I finally concentrated on IDing them, I was delighted to find they were Striated Fieldwre
ns, two of them pictured here. While these Fieldwrens are not uncommon in Tasmania, they certainly are elusive, and in probably 50 or more visits to the Peter Murrell, I have never seen them here. In the next 30 minutes or so, I watched and occasionally photographed them, and concluded that there were probably 10 or a dozen here, and as they appear to be breeding, I would expect that number to soon grow.

I looked up the Bird Atlas--no records, and emailed some of the "regulars", and it appears that they have been seen in this reserve in the distant past, but not in recent years. So if birders are seeking this species, this may prove one of the easier sites to see them. I have been asked for sites to see this species more often than almost any other and as this reserve is already a much frequented place for visiting birders, this may add to its' allure.

Brief Encounter...............Swift Parrots

2009-08-28T11:42:00.006+10:00

Just a short note to recount an all too brief encounter with Swift Parrots this morning.
The first reasonable day for sometime, but still windy, I decided to bird the Mortimer Bay reserve. Little action at first, probably not helped by the temperature hovering around 8C, but as it warmed up, so did the birding. While trying to get close enough for a few shots of a Dusky Robin, I heard a single, rather metallic, sharp call. Although I felt sure I should know what was calling, I couldn't at first place it. However as I neared what I thought was the source, the bird repeated it several times, and then gave the "giveaway" screech of a departing Swift Parrot--my first for the season. It wasn't a bird that I expected in this area as this parrot is more usually encountered on the western side of the Derwent River. It has bred here in the distant past, but that's was 30 years ago when the area was farmed. I followed in the general direction of the departing bird, which fortunately gave the same single note occasionally, enough to eventually find it. As you can see from the accompanying shots, it remained high in the dead branches of a eucalypt, not very conducive to great images. After a few minutes it took flight, at which time I realised there was in fact a pair. During the course of the mornings birding, I heard distant screeching from at least 3 pairs, but there may have been more. Perhaps they have been drawn here by the lack of Blue Gum flowering so far locally, and the fairly profuse flowering at "Mortimer" of the local peppermints. So if you haven't found any of the returning "swifties" yet, it's time to get out there!

All Change at Ralph's Bay

2009-08-24T08:43:00.007+10:00

An ongoing illness and the wettest weather for many years, has kept my birding to a minimum. I've also chosen "soft" areas to bird, when I have managed to get out--those that require less walking, and some that don't even require me to get out of my vehicle! Ralph's Bay at Lauderdale is one of former, but it can be one of the best. So on a driveby, ten days ago, I noted several Double-banded Plovers, most resplendent in their summer plumage, and worth an attempt at photography. They were in a mixed flock with about 20 Red-capped Plovers, all feeding on the edge of a retreating tide. Both these species are surprisingly tame, but in a flock they are rather more inclined to fly, and they did, albeit only a short distance. However, I had "help" at hand. An elderly gentleman decided to walk along the beach, through the flock, much to my annoyance. But, It did enable me to take the shot at top left, as those of the flock that didn't fly, ran along the beach towards me, taking flight only when they realised they were caught in a pincer movement! Among the flock I noticed a banded Double-banded, and on closer inspection, realised that it was "double banded", colour banded that is. I stalked it and scrambled a few shots, one at left. An enquiry as to where it was banded, brought a swift reply, (although there appeared to be some confusion). It appears most probable that it was banded in the Tasman River area of New Zealand--about mid South Island.
So, last weekend, hoping to get better shots of the DBPs, before they head off for New Zealand, I returned to Lauderdale. A quick scan of the area revealed a total lack of DBPs, and only a handful of Red-caps. Undeterred, I wandered along the shoreline to a stony area they sometimes roost on, the tide fairly high and coming in. I had only taken a few steps when I was buzzed by a flock of Bar-tailed Godwit, wheeling rapidly across the bay. I walked away from the beach beyond the low vegetation and watched. After several circuits of the bay, they alighted less than a hundred metres away alongside the spit, in an area they often roost on, which I assumed they were about to do. So I was surprised that instead they walked towards me, into the shallow water, and started feeding, coming ever closer as they did so.
It's times like this that never cease to excite me. By standing quite still and just waiting, this flock of 23 birds, came within 20 metres or so, and continued feeding. Much of the time they would feed in a tight pack, all walking in the same direction, probing deep into the soft mud, sometimes immersing their heads to get at their unseen prey. I watched and photographed them for 20 minutes or so, before retreating and leaving them to continue feeding.
So once again I had failed to get the sort of shots of DBPs that I'd hoped for, well there's always next year. However, it did occur to me that with all the gale force westerly winds we've had lately, that these plovers probably got to New Zealand a damn sight quicker than we ever could from Tasmania, having no direct link these days, and having to go via Melbourne, with all the security checks etc..... but don't start me on that one.

Magic Moments........Grey Fantail

2009-06-26T08:03:00.009+10:00

Having been stuck indoors for what seems like weeks with this interminable wet easterly weather, I just couldn't wait to get back out birding again. So, on a less than optimal day for birding, I fell back on my old favourite , the South Arm peninsula. With the continuing on-shore winds I rather hoped to see albatross off Goat Bluff, but in the event had to settle for 60 or 70 Australian Gannet, most fishing far to the south east. Having spent awhile scanning for seabirds, with little luck, I took to the nearby banksia scrub, walking along the sheltered edge, which seemed uncharacteristically quiet. I stopped briefly to photograph a preening New Holland Honeyeater, and I could hear a few others calling in the distance, but the usual noisy and numerous Crescent Honeyeaters, appeared absent. I nearly gave it all away at this point, with increasing overcast, and distant rain, (not to mention that is was 'cool'), taking away my enthusiasm for continuing. A calling male Scarlet Robin, 50 metres away, briefly rekindled my enthusiasm, although I'm not sure
why, because I must have photographed these robins more than almost any other bird! Perhaps faced with few options, it seemed like a good idea. Before I'd taken a few steps, it was chased off by a New Holland, but I continued. The light wasn't that conducive for photography, but from previous visits, I knew this spot could be good, so I stood and waited. A succession of New Hollands moved past, as did an Eastern Spinebill and a Yellow-throated Honeyeater. A scolding Brown Thornbill neared, and I had fleeting views of a family of Superb Fairy-wrens, but none close enough for photography. A pair of Grey Fantails caught my eye as they neared, but I would have to say, these are birds that I 'resort' to photographing when there's nothing much happening, so I wasn't that excited. They're fidgety birds, and their erratic behaviour often makes for a difficult subject to photograph in good light, which this wasn't. But I stood still and waited. Oneof the fantails made a couple of close passes, as if to say "I know you're there", and then a series of events that despite having birded for many years, only happens to other people. It landed on the end of my lens, giving me a warm fuzzy feeling, but no photographs!. I thought that was it, which was quite delightful, but no, it repeated this a few more times, appearing to use the end of the lens as a perch from which to spot insects. Briefly the pair flew off, and I was just about to move on, when they both returned, pirouetting on nearby shrubbery long enough to get a few shots. One bird then landed on my hat, did a few 'sorties' before returning. I can only assume that my presence was disturbing insects, probably midges, and I made a good perch, close to the action. But it wasn't quite done yet. It's last hurrah was to land about half way up the lens, and look staringly at me--eyeball to eyeball! A quite unforgettable moment. It was one of those few times in birding when you feel part of the action rather than a mere observer. While all this was happening, I also managed to get a few shots of another sometimes elusive bird to photograph, a Brown Thornbill, appearing to want to be part of the action too. A magic morning.

Seek and Ye Shall Find... ....Flame Robin

2009-06-20T08:08:00.004+10:00

Well suggesting that I was seeking is not strictly true. With the prolonged period of rain that SE Tasmania has had, and all the farm dams brimming over, I made a detour on the way home from birding Goat Bluff. My main interest was whether Clear Lagoon, an ephemeral shallow lagoon at Sandford, had any water in. It was full, the first time in many years. If this lagoon holds any water during the summer months, it often hosts good numbers of waders, especially Curlew Sandpipers and Red-necked Stint. This day it held a small number of Chestnut Teal, 2 Black Duck, a few Black Swans and a score of Kelp Gulls. A short walk around the shore, produced about 20 or more Australasian Pipits and a few Eurasian Skylarks. I drove on to nearby Rushy Lagoon, a considerably larger lagoon, which also now held large areas of water. Here there were substantial numbers of Wood Duck and Chestnut Teal. A squabble among some distant Black Swans drew my attention, and while watching them I noted a solitary Black-fronted Plover, a normally fairly common bird around waterway perimeters, but sadly lacking over the past several very dry years. It was while searching for more blackfronts, there were 4 in all, I noticed a small 'orange ball' around 300 metres away in the deep vegetation. Although I couldn't be sure of the ID, I was fairly confident that it was a Flame Robin. Further scanning, produced 5 'orange balls', and a number of other 'plain brown' birds that as they worked their way in ragged line abreast towards me, were patently Flame Robins. I counted 17 birds at any one time, although I'm confident that the flock numbered around 25 or more, quite the biggest flock I've seen for over 20 years.
I decided to attempt to photograph them, but realised that if I got out of my vehicle, they were unlikely to come anywhere near me. I parked along the fence line, reasoning that as they were spread out over a hundred metre wide band as they fed, I might just fluke a shot or two. A brief "dread" when many of them flew into nearby bushes, almost dashed my hopes, but they returned shortly after, and were now nearing me. I eventually scrambled shots of 3 individuals, 2 of them shown here, as they reached the fence line, before crossing the road into another paddock and were lost to my view in dead ground.
After my recent post, I was heartened to find so many Flames. Whether they're normally here, or perhaps the recent weather played a part, I don't know. But I will be making more detours in the next few months! Perhaps the recent rain is responsible for the 'spat' of nesting Masked Plover. I noted 3 pairs with eggs in the Sandford area, a fairly early start.

A Chance Remark....Crescent Honeyeater

2009-06-14T09:51:00.007+10:00

Out birding at Mortimer Bay recently, with a long time friend, and during the wide ranging discussions, I mentioned that I had an observation and question about Crescent Honeyeaters. Well we must have had some telepathic thought process going, as he started the answer without hearing my question! Perhaps I had broached the subject before, but it was in regard to Crescent Honeyeaters breeding, and apparently something that had been mooted during the first Bird Atlas in the early '80s.
On the Eastern Shore of the River Derwent, Crescents are visitors during the cooler months, and commonly seen at that time in gardens and the surrounding bushland. In the main they're absent here in the Summer months, except in a few isolated areas of wetter forest, such as parts of the Meehan Range. However, during last Spring, I had photographed a very juvenile male Crescent (lower left) on Rosny Hill in early September, certainly not a typical area for Crescents to breed. I also recall photographing an apparent pair of this species on Bellerive Bluff a few days earlier, at a spot that they were frequently returning to. Closer examination of those images showed that they were carrying bills full of flying insects, as in the shot of a male at top left. Why I didn't 'twig' that they could be breeding there, I'm not sure, but I probably dismissed it as being outside their normal breeding range. One of the shots (at right) clearly shows a bird carrying a faecal sac-- an 'envelope' containing the faeces of a nestling--a clincher that the pair were breeding close by, possibly among the sheoaks clinging tenuously to the cliff face.
So it appears that a few of the local Crescent Honeyeaters breed here, before both parents and young move (separately) away into the 'normal' Summer quarters. The question then arises, do they subsequently breed in their normal range and is this a relatively new phenomena, or has it just been overlooked previously.

Gullible

2009-06-07T08:30:00.005+10:00

When you've been around birding for a while, it's easy to fall into the trap of believing you can interpret what birds are doing. The reality of course, is that at best you can make an informed guess, with the benefit of experience. So when watching the local Silver Gulls along the nearby waterfront going through violent gyrations, (without giving it much thought), I assumed this was part of a display. It was only when I decided to try to photograph them 'performing'--a difficult task at best--I realised this was far from the truth.

In fact, it did take a lot of shots and careful examination of the images, to discover what they were up to. They were chasing and catching European Wasps. I should probably have realised this earlier, as I had "accidentally" photographed a gull that enlargement showed was chasing a wasp, at a nearby beach last Summer. But I had dismissed this as a one-off, isolated event. I guess that few birders spend much time closely watching the all too common Silver Gulls, but perhaps we shouldn't dismiss them so quickly. Having 'discovered' what they were up to, I went back and watched their modus operandi.

They,(there was up to 10 birds at a time), sat along the waterline, looking towards the sun, thus giving themselves the best chance of seeing the wasps silhouetted against the sky. Having spotted one, one or more of the gulls would give chase, sometimes, as in the lower image, squabbling over a single insect. What surprised me was the obviously large numbers of wasps involved, but also that the gulls would bother with such small prey sometimes requiring considerable expenditure of energy to catch. Ah well, perhaps it just gave them something to do while waiting to share in the lunch of people parked at the nearby scenic lookout. The Silver Gull joins a list of local species that, thankfully, target European Wasps. They include Yellow and Little Wattlebirds, Noisy Miners and Grey Shrike-thrush. May they have great success! You may need to enlarge the images by clicking on them, to see the wasps.

Decline of Flame Robins

2009-05-30T10:25:00.004+10:00

I keep a list of birds that I would like better images of, and high on that list is, and has been for some time, the Flame Robin. In fact, during the last several months, I've only managed to take the rather 'distant' shot (at left) of a Flame, this one an immature male, and it's not for want of looking. I photographed this bird on Goat Bluff, South Arm early in April, a venue that in the past has been a reliable spot for finding at least one, and sometimes, several pairs. I've also dipped out on recording them at several other 'reliable' spots. The lack of Flames contrasts with the relative abundance of the more sedentary, Scarlet Robin. Locally, I know of numerous venues that I can be sure of finding pairs of Scarlets, still in the vicinity of their breeding territories, and they are one of the species that I most often photograph (male Scarlet at lower right). I've even seen many more Pink Robins v Flames during the last year, a decidedly more elusive species.

Looking back through the literature, it's plain to see that there numbers have been significantly decreasing for many years. Michael Sharland, not a person given to exaggeration, wrote in his "Tasmanian Birds"(published after WW2) "very common", and of the Scarlet, "common". Bob Green, in his 1989 revised edition of "Birds of Tasmania", describes the Flame as a "numerous trans-Bass Strait migrant". He also describes the Pink Robin as "uncommon and nomadic". I also note an apparent decline that emerges after comparing the 2 Atlases of Australian Birds, published in 1984 and 2003. Perhaps they should all be compared to John Gould's comment, in his 1849 "Birds of Australia", when describing the Flame Robin as very common in Tasmania, goes on to say " I have even taken its nest from a shelving bank in the streets of Hobart Town". Those were the days!

Although my lack of sightings of Flame Robins may just be 'one of those things', I'd be interested in other perspectives on their apparently declining numbers.

Recent Sightings

2009-02-23T11:35:00.007+11:00

For those who missed out on the Australian Crakes at Gould's Lagoon last summer, it's time to try again. I doubt that these crakes ever leave the area, but with the low water level at the moment, they're probably forced more into the open. I photographed the one at left from the roadway, at the point where the suburban road meets the main thoroughfare. You may have to be patient, and I would suggest that fairly early morning is your best bet. They seem to prefer the wet mud and usually keep to the shadowed areas where possible.
Noted and photographed a single Double-banded Plover at Pipeclay Lagoon this morning (at left), a recent arrival from New Zealand. No doubt the first of many that will spend the cooler months around Tasmania and the east coast of the Mainland, before returning to breed in NZ. It was keeping company with a loose flock of around 20 Red-capped Plover.

Friday 13th.....Lucky For Some

2009-02-15T10:43:00.010+11:00

I received an email mid week, telling me that the sender had photographed 10 different species of bird at the Peter Murrell Reserve at Kingston, and all that in a few hours. Having not visited this reserve in several months, it was tempting, but I know only too well, that trying to emulate someone else's experiences, is almost always fraught. However, Friday morning was one out of the box, with very light winds and a fine forecast, and, from my experience, an ideal day for a visit to this reserve. It proved a great choice, despite the date!
I arrived early, and with an air temperature still in single digits, and lightly overcast, realised that I was going to be "under dressed" for the first hour or so. But there was an upside to the temperature, as a number of birds were using the fence line to hunt from. The first bird that I noted was an adult Swamp Harrier, making forays to catch insects from a distant fence post. Nearer, were families of Welcome Swallows, also pouncing on still grounded insects. I stopped to take numerous shots of both adults and juveniles, both seemingly reluctant to move from their vantage point. Further along the fence wires, were numerous young Dusky Woodswallows, also waiting for a feed from their parents, although obviously quite capable of catching insects for themselves.
A familiar call caught my attention, as a family of White-fronted Chats flew over, not a species that I expected to see here, but they're great nomads, and were probably in transit! Disturbing some Green Rosellas feeding in a nearby shrub, their alarm call in turn flushed 2 Blue-winged Parrots, feeding in among the dry grass. Rarely managing to photograph these parrots, I set off in pursuit. As often happens, this proved fairly pointless. I would hear their tinkling calls coming from a nearby shrub or tree, but their colouring made them almost invisible, and I only saw them after flushing them. I gave up. The "chase" was not entirely wasted though, as I recorded New Holland Honeyeaters, Silvereyes, Brown and Yellow-rumped Thornbills, Superb Fairywrens, Scarlet Robins, Australasian Pipits, Tree Martins, Grey Shrike Thrush, Grey Fantails, and numerous families of Goldfinches. It was, as the email had implied, really 'humming".
After abandoning the bluewing chase, I walked into the nearby lightly forested areas, around the presently dry creek line, looking for the Forty-spotted Pardalotes that I usually see at this spot. I could hear a small group of Spotted Pardalotes, and I had already seen a few Striated, all in the tree canopy, but it took a while to find the Fortyspots. I finally found them, but at this juncture, I was faced with a dilemma. The bluewings re-appeared, and quite close by. The fortyspots were nearly close enough to get a few shots, do I leave them and try for the bluewings? The bluewings won. I reasoned that the fortyspots are here virtually all the time, the parrots only briefly. I managed several shots of the bluewings, and had the bonus of photographing an adult Pallid Cuckoo in the same thorn bush. The latter being dive bombed by Welcome Swallows and Dusky Woodswallows. I still managed to 'scramble' a few shots of the, by now, parting fortyspots, as well as a juvenile Fantailed Cuckoo.
By mid morning I had had my 'fill', and wandered back along the fence line, now devoid of birds. Back past the second pond, now sporting a flock of Wood Duck, but I still had one "photo opp" to come. As I neared the upper pond, a flock of around 30 Masked Lapwing took to the air, calling raucously. I guessed they'd spotted a raptor, which indeed they had, a juvenile Swamp Harrier. Unlike the adults, juvenile Swamp Harriers are dark brown, looking almost black at a distance, and I watched this one as it neared. I'd hoped it would quarter the area along a nearby ditch line, and for a change I guessed correctly. It passed probably 50 metres away, and I managed a few shots before it was obscured by nearby trees. A great way to end a memorable morning. The above are a small selection of the many images that I took. I only wish you could have been there!

Seasons Greetings

2008-12-24T07:02:00.006+11:00

May You All Have a Safe & Merry Christmas

The accompanying photographs of Dusky Woodswallows were taken at Mortimer Bay. It's not a venue that I have regularly visited in the past, but seeking an area close to home and easy walking, Mortimer Bay near Sandford, fitted the bill. It has proved to be a surprisingly good site, with a good range of species, and many of them breeding here. Recent sightings have included 2 pairs of breeding Satin Flycatchers (not a typical site), a Horsfield Bronze Cuckoo being fed by Superb Blue Wrens, and numerous Blue-winged Parrots. Other regulars have been Dusky, Scarlet and Flame Robins, Eastern and Green Rosellas, Common Bronzewing Pigeons (breeding), several pairs of Black-faced Cuckoo Shrikes, Black-headed, Yellow-throated, and New Holland Honeyeaters, and numerous Shining Bronze Cuckoos. I hope to publish some of the many shots taken here over the last few months, soon.

[ I seem to be slowly recovering from the after effects of the viral infection that laid me low. I have dubbed my present condition as "rampant lethargy", although I do suffer from a degree of lethargy on a good day!! Thank you to those well wishers who asked after my health, and apologies to those that I failed to reply to--they were nevertherless much appreciated. I hope to get back into the 'swing' soon]

Another Cuckoo.....Fan-tailed

2008-10-12T17:57:00.006+11:00

I've been struck down with a nasty virus (is there any other sort?), and it's unfortunately effecting my eyes (among other parts!). So this is something of a make weight.
Shortly after taking the shots of a Shining Bronze-Cuckoo in the previous blog, I visited Risdon Brook Park, near Risdon Vale. I had photographed Horsfield's Bronze-Cuckoo there a few years ago--pretty awful shots in fact--and I had seen a single individual on a recent visit, so I was hoping for a another photo opp..
Arriving early am, on a very still and overcast morning, I'd hardly got out of the car when I heard my first cuckoo, a Pallid, calling from the nearby high ground. A good omen I thought. Well in the few minutes that it took me to get my gear organised and cross the car park, I'd heard, in quick succession, a Fan-tailed Cuckoo, and both Horsfield's and Shining Bronze-Cuckoos. What more could I ask for? Now all I had to do was find them.
Cuckoos have, from my observations, very large territories, measured in hectares, and I haven't found chasing after calling birds particularly productive. So I set off birdwatching, hoping that sooner or later, I might just be lucky. I did get some good birding in, including seeing both Blue-winged and Swift Parrots, and my first Beautiful Firetail in this venue for a couple of years. A fairly distant view of a Brown Goshawk being harassed by a pair of Yellow Wattlebirds, high in a eucalypt. One of the many Kookaburras in this park, being mobbed by some recently arrived Dusky Woodswallows. But although I heard several cuckoos, I didn't look in any danger of photographing one. But that's the way birding is, and makes the good days really stand out. After about 3 hours of tramping around, I headed back to the car, having taken few shots, save for some close ups of the few orchids that have survived, despite the dry conditions.
Crossing a large open area of what was once a sheep run, I stopped to watch some Dusky Woodswallows hawking for insects from the dead branches of a fallen wattle. I closed on them to get a few shots, and disturbed a perched Pallid Cuckoo which 'looped' its way to the top of fairly distant gum. Decision time. Was I going to try to take some shots that I knew would hardly amount to much anyway? I was pretty weary by now and lunch was beckoning. While I was still deliberating, I saw a bird fly to the ground some hundred metres away, and was now mostly hidden in the dry grass. A look through the binos established that it was a Fan-tailed Cuckoo, the first that I'd seen that morning, despite hearing several. Well, as you can see by the accompanying images, I scrambled a few shots of this surprisingly tame individual. The Fan-tailed Cuckoo is arguably the most commonly seen cuckoo in Tasmania. All our cuckoos are Summer migrants, but Fan-tailed Cuckoos commonly overwinter, usually in coastal areas, and I recorded 2 calling vigorously on Goat Bluff, South Arm, in the middle of July this past Winter.

Shining Bronze-Cuckoo

2008-10-03T11:20:00.007+10:00

I would like to have recounted how, after diligently searching for a Shining Bronze-Cuckoo, I finally tracked it down and photographed it. But the truth is that luck played a major part. Earlier this week, on a less than perfect day for photography, I decided to spend a few hours birding the nearby 'nature recreation reserve' at Rosny Hill. For most locals (including me), this reserve is the scenic lookout, giving expansive views over Hobart City, the western suburbs, and the Derwent River estuary. It's not an area that readily springs to mind when looking for a place to bird, but, as I was about to find out, it has hidden depths.
This reserve of around 26 hectares, consists largely of casuarinas and wattles, with a few taller eucalypts, and is subject to frequent controlled (and uncontrolled) burns. Apart from about a hectare around the lookout, much of it is reasonably steep hillside. A quick walk around the parking area, found a single Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike, and a passing flock of 4 or 5 Dusky Woodswallows, the first that I had seen this Spring. Several Tree Martins, and a single Welcome Swallow were hawking nearby, joined occasionally in the updraught, by the resident pair of Forest Ravens. A flock of 30 or so Silvereyes "tanged" their way from shrub to shrub. I suspect that the latter were part of the Silvereye population that migrates to the Mainland, as at least some of the 'locals' are already breeding. A pair of scolding Brown Thornbills caught my attention, followed by what proved to be the first of several pairs of Yellow-rumped Thornbills. As I haven't yet managed to get decent shots of this species, I decided to attempt to remedy that.
I had a little success at first among the fire blackened remains of some large shrubs, at least the leafless bushes didn't give them anywhere much to hide. I had only been photographing here a short while, when a single Shining Bronze-Cuckoo arrived, lifting my spirits considerably. I had heard what I suspect was this bird, calling from several points around the reserve, but decided the steep hillside wasn't the best place to seek this bird out. However, my optimism was short lived, because one of the thornbills had seen it too. With considerable zeal, it went for the cuckoo, with wings and tail spread widely, showing off its yellow rump. Exit cuckoo. Back to the thornbills. However, the cuckoo hadn't given up that easily, and returned and spent much of the next half hour or so, among the fire blackened shrubs and nearby wattles, and the accompanying images are some of the many I took. My only wish was that there had been some sun!
Surprisingly, the yellow-rumps didn't make any attempt to drive it off this time, but they did keep a wary eye on it, often from only a metre or less away. I watched both species find and eat caterpillars, including the very hairy caterpillar in the shot at left. The cuckoo spent several minutes bashing the caterpillar, before devouring it. (It does have a rather 'natty' pair of 'plus fours', something I hadn't noticed before!).A second cuckoo put in an appearance, dashing back and forth, before alighting and calling from a nearby bush (shot at right). It flew off shortly afterwards.
I have found both this species and the similar Horsfield's Bronze-cuckoo, among the more difficult birds to get to grips with, and I felt more than a little excited and privileged to have spent a while both watching and photographing these two individuals.
I recorded another 23 'bush' species here, and I might just add it to my list of places to regularly visit.

Right Whale and More

2008-09-26T13:22:00.009+10:00

The weather hasn't been that conducive for birding this week, and I've had a couple of outings cut short by high winds and rain squalls. But on Tuesday afternoon, I noticed a Cessna 172 from the local aero club, circling the bay near my residence, and being "nosey" by nature, I drove to a nearby lookout to see what they were looking at. I was fortunate to find that I wasn't the only curious local, and quickly established that the centre of attraction was a Right Whale. Not that I immediately saw it, but I was given a blow by blow account of what I would have seen, if only I'd been there a little earlier! From their description, I felt I'd have an evens chance of seeing it, and after a few 'false' starts, the much barnacled whale emerged briefly, not far offshore from my vantage point, before disappearing again. It wasn't exactly the most energetic whale I've ever seen, as it oh so slowly made its way across the bay, just occasionally surfacing. But they are awesome creatures, this one somewhere in the region of 14 metres or more in length, and well worth the wait. The locals drove off shortly afterwards, but I waited in the hope that I might get better views (and photographs), deciding to do a bit of birding while I waited. Scanning down the Derwent River, I could see small groups of Australasian Gannets, totalling about 20, strung out across the water a kilometre or more away. Nearer, there were Little Pied and Black-faced Cormorants, and I could hear the yelps of Little Penguins, but never did spot them. At one stage, a group of cormorants flew round the whale, I'm not sure whether it was out of idle curiosity or the chance of a feed, but they only stayed briefly. A few Crested Terns passed the headland, obviously searching the water for food, before one of them plunge dived. This had an immediate impact on the gannets, because within no time they had joined the terns and began diving headlong into the fray. The speed of their reaction to the diving tern was quite amazing. I guess sitting on the water waiting for others to find the location of food, is a good strategy and uses a whole lot less energy. Within a few minutes the flurry of activity was over, and I was left wondering whether to stay, or give it away. At this point, I spotted the first of what proved to be a procession of birds, right in front of me. No doubt they'd been there all the time, but I was too busy casting my eye over the bay to notice. Only a few metres in front of me, was one of a number of weather beaten she oaks (casuarinas), growing out of the side of the cliff face below the lookout. I was effectively looking into the crowns of these small trees, and perhaps it was this that gave the birds a false impression of security. The first bird I noticed was the male Crescent Honeyeater (at left), the bad news was, I'd put the camera in the car to protect it from the occasional light showers. But I needn't have worried, it stayed put, preening itself, while I retrieved my camera and returned. In the next 20 minutes, I photographed, what I think is probably its mate (above right), a pair of Spotted Pardalote, the Little Wattlebird, whose territory I was almost certainly in (bottom right), several Silvereyes and a Magpie. I also had fleeting glimpses of a pair of Yellow Wattlebird, chasing the Spotted Pardalote at high speed through the trees. The only downside to all this, was the Magpie. Although magpies are common in the vicinity, they rarely venture out to this bluff. While photographing it, I realised that it had strands of nylon fishing line round its feet, which it would occasionally peck at. It seemed to be able to feed adequately, but no doubt it had effectively been isolated from its family group, and I did have a feeling of impotency in not being able to free it.
I did see the whale again, albeit several hundred metres away, and looking more like a floating tree trunk! But I shouldn't complain, it's not everyday that I see a whale

It's Plan B Again.

2008-09-20T08:37:00.007+10:00

On a recent bright and clear morning, I decided it was past time to look for migrant waders. I knew they were about because, on a trip to Sorell a couple of weeks back, I nearly "collected" a flock of around 25 Bar-tailed Godwits as they shot between my car and another coming from the opposite direction, as we crossed the causeway. Knowing that the tide should be high, first stop was at Lauderdale. Well I didn't actually stop, as a quick look at the spit as I drove past, showed that there were only a handful of waders, probably Redcaps and stint, so on to Pipeclay Lagoon. Nearing the Cremorne turnoff, I looked out for 'the' Swamp Harrier which I had seen in the paddock alongside of the road on several previous visits, and sure enough, it was there this morning. With commuter traffic not yet in evidence, I was able to park alongside the paddock, and took the shot of what I believe is a female, Swamp Harrier (shown at right). On to Pipeclay Lagoon, where, disappointingly, the tide was obviously not going to be high enough to force the waders to roost. I parked and walked off to look at their usual roost sites beyond the Oyster sheds, with little expectation. There were a few around, drawn, as they often are when they first arrive back, to the the local Red-capped Plovers that nest along the edge of the marsh. I approached the small mixed flock of Curlew Sandpipers and Red-necked Stint (about 9 of the former, and 70-80 of the latter), but much chasing among the redcaps was obviously making them nervous, and they soon took flight. But as usual, the redcaps were soon back, and this drew the 'migrants' back too. I managed a few shots, including the one at left, of a Curlew Sandpiper, still showing the remnants of its summer plumage. You might notice too, that its carrying a band on the right leg, perhaps one of the many banded here, some good few years back now, by the Shorebird Study Group, of which I have fond memories. Well I had only been out a short while and with such 'low' high tides, I needed a plan B. So I fell back on my 'usual', Goat Bluff a few kilometres away.
At this time of year, Goat Bluff is reaching its most interesting. The summer migrants are arriving, and the locals are breeding, or about to. Add that to the few species that are making the most of the last of the flowering shrubs, before heading off to breed, and you have a great mix. I shouldn't forget the sea birds either, with gulls, terns, cormorants and the odd Australasian Gannet. This may all seem idyllic, but you have to be prepared, at times, to share the area with a range of other users, and unfortunately, abusers (but I won't rant on about that). I wandered down the eastern side of the bluff, enjoying the early morning sun, towards the clifftop overlooking a small cove some 60 metres down. Here, recently arrived Tree Martins, and a pair of Welcome Swallows, were hawking for insects in the updraught of the cliff, and over the nearby stunted heath, propping occasionally atop the fence wire. While attempting to photograph a swallow on this wire, I spotted, first a Striated Fieldwren, and then a Flame Robin, both on this same wire. Forgetting the swallow, I concentrated on the fieldwren. I have to confess at this point, and some readers may have noticed, that I've published numerous shots of this species over the months. It's becoming, or perhaps already is, the single species that I've photographed most (could it be that I hold an unlikely World record!!!). For some reason, I find them fascinating. Perhaps its because on some visits, no amount of searching will turn one up, on others, as was to be the case on this visit, they appear 'everywhere'. Much of the area is covered by low heath, much of it less than knee high, interspersed with other dense plants, such as acacia and correa, rarely more than a metre high. So their ability to elude birders looking out for them, is legendary. (I note that the Bird Atlas does not appear to have any records for anywhere on the South Arm peninsula, where it is in fact quite common). Conversely, or perhaps, perversely, I've walked up to within a couple of metres of a calling fieldwren, without seeming to faze it. The photo at bottom left, illustrates, perhaps, their ability to blend into the 'country', and I watched this bird as it foraged among the foliage and grasses, occasionally breaking cover to run along the narrow tracks, before 'plunging' once more into cover.
I shouldn't neglect to add, that other species present on the bluff included Fan-tailed and Horfield's Bronze-Cuckoo, Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos, many Yellow-throated and Newholland Honeyeaters and soon to be departing, Crescent Honeyeaters. Brown and Yellow-rumped Thornbills, Scarlet and Flame Robins, flocks of Silvereye, and pairs of both Spotted and Striated Pardalotes. Soaring White-bellied Sea Eagle and Swamp Harrier, and singles of Brown Falcon and Brown Goshawk. An interesting morning, despite the earlier disappointment.

Gould's Lagoon Bird Hide Destroyed.

2008-09-14T16:42:00.002+10:00

I've just received an email from JJ Harrison a local resident at Austin's Ferry (I believe), telling me that the Gould's Lagoon bird hide has been destroyed in a fire, lit by vandals,a few days ago. It has been vandalised on many occasions, and is frequently used for drinking parties and worse. I recently commented to a council employee, working at the reserve, that is was a wonder it hadn't been burnt down, well now it has. Hopefully, it will be rebuilt in due course. Unfortunately, this is not an isolated incident. The picnic shelters and facilities at the Myrtle Forest, near Collinsvale, was significantly vandalised shortly after a major upgrade, and I can recount many other minor events

Parrot Heaven

2008-09-12T10:48:00.012+10:00

The Kingston area, just South of Hobart, must be the Tasmanian equivalent of Mecca, for a range of parrot species that have had more than passing assistance from humans. For many years the home of about 25 or so Galahs, believed to be the progeny of birds released from a ship at Port Huon in 1922, they have been joined by Long-billed and Little Corellas, and most recently by Rainbow Lorikeets. The Galah numbers have burgeoned too, no doubt joined by aviary escapes and possibly trans Bass Strait migrants. Apart from the odd vagrant, these species would not normally include Tasmania as part of their distribution range.
A few days ago,I spent a morning on the Kingston Golf Course (after seeking permission from the secretary/manager), armed with a camera rather than golf clubs, and wandered round. I wanted to get a few shots of the Rainbow Lorikeets, having noted half a dozen of them in the Blue Gums along the nearby beachfront, and having heard that they frequented the golf course.
As I wandered back to my car from the clubhouse, I could already hear the 'strains' of the numerous Musk Lorikeets in the nearby gums, I could also hear a few Swift Parrots calling from among them, but this was the first and last intimation of their presence. I drove down to the club's works area, flushing several Eastern Rosellas from the track side, and noting several groups of Wood Duck and flocks of Galahs, feeding on the verdant fairways. The works area abuts Brown's River, and I walked over to the river bank. My first sighting there was a solitary Australasian Grebe, splashing its way over the water surface, towards me! Concentrating on that, I had failed to see the single Little Pied and Two Little Black Cormorants, roosting on a dead tree branch, only a few metres away, obviously used to the to and froing of the ground staff, and unfazed by my close approach. With obviously so many groups of birds about, I just wandered "higgledy piggledy" round the course, drawn to whatever seemed like a photo op.. I photographed Galahs, Eastern and Green Rosellas, Musk Lorikeet, Noisy Miners, Australian Magpies and Wood Duck in quick succession. However, the Rainbow Lorikeets were proving rather more elusive, although I had a brief view of a couple passing rapidly on to distant gums. I then spotted a corella among a flock of around 30 Galahs, and closed on this. It proved to be the only Little Corella that I recorded (photo at bottom left). It was keeping company with a very anaemic coloured and similar sized Galah, a species with which they occasionally cross breed, at least in aviary situations.
I had just about given up on the 'rainbows' when I was drawn to a dispute between Eastern Rosellas and Musk Lorikeets, high in a large gum. I tried to get a few shots, but the 'easterns ' flew off. I stood under the trees contemplating leaving, the increasing numbers of golfers were a distraction, when I heard a 'rainbow' call from almost overhead. And there, unnoticed by me, were a pair of Rainbow Lorikeets, sussing out a nest hole or 'spout' at the end of a hollow branch, some 10 metres up. A couple of shots before they disappeared deep inside. I waited for what seemed an eternity, (I'm really not the patient type that people sometimes suggest!). 10 minutes or so later, they emerged, and I shot a few more images including the photo at right of a bird at the possible nest entrance, and the image at top left, before they flew off. Ambling back along the river bank, I could see a flock of Long-billed Corellas lined up along the power lines overlooking the children's playground, on the other side of the river, waiting for one of the frequent 'handouts' of food. Every now and then, amid much screaming, they would all take to the air, and from my observations this usually indicates a nearby raptor, often a Brown Goshawk.
I have mixed feelings about the corellas and 'rainbows'. There is no doubt that many are aviary escapes, or their progeny, and they have the potential to become serious pests. There is also the question of what impact they may have on our native species, the Swift Parrot in particular. I suspect that they are already past being able to 'control' their numbers, and I'm not sure that it would be supported by well meaning, but perhaps, ill informed members of the public. I have no doubt that although we use the expression "aviary escapes", many of these parrots have in fact been deliberately released when the owners tired of them. All too frequently I notice other fauna that's been dumped, ranging from chickens and ducks, through to cats, many of them in conservation areas.

Pink Robins Galore

2008-09-05T13:33:00.005+10:00

Mid week, beautiful morning, a frosty start, and off to the Myrtle Forest in the foothills of Mount Wellington, where it was even colder. But the birding was great. Hadn't gone more than a hundred metres when I spotted an all white bird fly up to a perch among the saplings, all this a good way off. My first reaction was a Sulphur-crested, which often roost around here, but thinking on, what was it doing among the saplings? A brief look through the glasses, and I realised it was a Grey Goshawk (white morph in Tasmania). Every other birder tells me about their encounters with this hawk, even get them in their gardens, but I always seem to miss out, so for me it was a good start. It even looked as if I had an evens chance of some photographs, but a pair of Grey Currawongs had also spotted it, and they proceeded to give it a hard time. It took refuge well up an old acacia tree, where despite their best efforts, the currawongs couldn't easily mob it, but not for want of trying. I got a few poor shots through the foliage. It was as I was watching the goshawk from beneath its perch, that I heard the first Pink Robin calling, and soon sighted it as it called from a high perch overlooking the track. Not more than a hundred metres on, and the second and third came in sight, both hawking in a clearing next to the creek. A Brush Bronzewing, one of several seen during my walk, flew up from the track with their characteristic clapping of wings, and I could hear another calling from the hillside. On to the picnic huts, and I could just hear another Pink Robin above the noise of the creek, together with a Golden Whistler, and the clamouring of a small flock of Black Currawong. I took the old fire track at this point, overgrown at the start, but I've found it offers better birding opportunities. The Tasmanian Thornbills were also in good voice this morning, and I found them at regular intervals during the climb. I stopped to try to photograph a pair, and failed, but I had the bonus of finding the first of many Scrubtits, mostly in pairs, and an unsighted, scolding, Tasmanian Scrubwren, which are common in the area, but were even more skulking that usual, and I presume they're breeding at the moment. Four more calling male Pink Robins on the track, one of which I spent some time attempting to photograph, top 2 shots. This bird was wary of me at first, but later seemed to accept my presence while it went about its business, albeit in poor light, under the tree canopy. Occasionally it propped only an arms length away--too close to photograph! Like most of our robins, the 'pinks' often hunt from a perch, dropping down and seizing prey, and I noted this one catch a variety of very small insects on the ground, but it also gleaned them from beneath leaves, as the thornbills do. At one point, it found an earthworm, bashed it a few times, before quickly swallowing it, something I've seen Flame and Dusky Robins do. The Dusky also takes skinks. Further up the track I came across one of several flocks of Strong-billed Honeyeaters, which judging by the frequent chasing, are, or soon will be, pairing up for breeding. I saw several Olive Whistlers, none calling as yet, and a few Golden Whistlers, that unlike their cousins, were in good voice, and paired.
I counted at least 14 Pink Robins during my walk, all male, although one of them was still in the 'brown' plumage of an immature bird. I didn't see a single female pink. So I was left wondering whether they are breeding, or whether the males are advertising their territory to attract a mate. I've read various tomes that suggest that males, like the females and immature birds, wander during Winter. From my observations, males may range more widely during the colder months, but they can consistently be found at the same spots all year round, although, of course I have no way of knowing whether they're the same individuals!
At the same clearing that I'd seen 2 'pinks' hawking earlier, one, very obligingly, posed in bright sunshine, and allowed close approach (image bottom right). A little perverse, when I had struggled to get any worthwhile shots in the 'gloom. But there's something about the Pink Robin that gets me trying to photograph them at every opportunity--they are gorgeous!

Truganini Reserve & Swift Parrots

2008-09-01T08:18:00.009+10:00

You probably haven't been waiting with bated breath for this, but I've only just managed to get my PC back in some semblance of order after temporarily losing the last 6 months worth of images! As I mentioned in the last blog, I moved on to the Truganini Reserve at Taroona, in search of Swift Parrots. There's a familiar ritual to arriving, you can usually count on seeing, or at least hearing, the local Yellow Wattlebirds as you park your car, and on this morning they didn't disappoint. Their interest was in a pair of Grey Currawongs, skulking about, and at least 3 Kookaburras, and the wattlebirds managed to move them all on, without getting too close. By the track, I witnessed nuptial feeding by a pair of Crescent Honeyeaters, and overhead, much chasing among the Black-headed Honeyeaters . So it appeared that for some, breeding was underway. Within a 100 metres of the entrance, I heard the first Swift Parrots, so at least I now knew they were about. But, as anyone familiar with watching Swift Parrots would be aware, hearing them is one thing, seeing them is another! The calls were emanating from some of the taller eucalypts, mainly Blue Gums, although few, if any were flowering here. I climbed the bank on the northern side of the gully, up into the morning sun, and as I did, I could hear other Swifties calling. I estimated that there were about 6 or 7 pairs in the area, but as yet I hadn't seen a single bird. The shrill call of a nearby Musk Lorikeet caught my attention, and it was then that I saw my first Swift Parrot, well to be precise two, undoubtedly a pair. Both were in dispute over a possible nest site, with both Musks and Swifties entering a hole in a gum, some 15 metres up. The Musks used there "tail spreading" act, to warn off the Swifties, and the Swifties, opened their still folded wings to show the red colouring beneath. They also showed their displeasure as seen in the, not very flattering, shot at upper left. Neither of the pairs actually came into contact with one another, preferring to animatedly display as mentioned, sometimes within a few centimetres of one another. It's the first time that I've witnessed this, and unfortunately it was among the foliage and some way from me, so I didn't get the sort of images that I might have hoped for. After about 10 minutes of this action, both pairs flew off, but as I returned a little later, I disturbed a single Swift Parrot from the vicinity of the same tree. I did speculate whether the confontation was a common occurrence, and is the increasingly numerous Musk Lorikeet population having a detrimental effect on the already threatened, Swift Parrot's breeding chances. Higher up the slope, I noted the single Swift Parrot, pictured at lower left. It called from a high perch at the extremity of a dead gum. It appeared to be alone, and its frequent calling was not answered, perhaps it was in search of a partner, or had become separated. Later, on the track back down into the gully, I also recorded Pink Robin, Olive and Golden Whistlers, Tasmanian Scrubwrens (very quiet, which leads me to believe, they are nesting), a solitary Brush Bronzewing, and numerous Strong-billed Honeyeaters, some gathering strips of bark for their nests. It was while I was watching the latter, that I noted another pair of swifties. These appeared to be gleaning insects from the crevices of a large Blue Gum, and amongst the 'strings' of bark hanging down. Going silently about their business made me realise just how much I, and doubtless others, rely on hearing their call to find them, often as they 'explode' from a tree. In fact, thinking back over the years, I couldn't recall too many times that I had witnessed them feeding on anything other than flowering gums. An interesting morning.
[NB. I've added the only meaningful image of the Swift Parrot threat display, with the individual at lower right showing the red underwing area]

Setting Up Home.....Musk Lorikeets

2008-08-26T06:44:00.010+10:00

I was feeling particularly depressed. I had just lost all my emails, and that was only one of a number of computer issues that I have recently suffered. I needed to get out. But I knew that the need to fix the PC would soon draw me back home, so I opted for the short trip to Lambert Park, Sandy Bay, in search of newly arrived Swift Parrots.
Arriving, I was confronted by the screeching of Musk Lorikeets as I opened the car door, but I thought I also heard a couple of Swift Parrots calling. I could be in luck. This time of year a couple of years ago, in this park, I watched a flock of about 40 Swift Parrots, feeding on the ground, I think it was probably on elm seeds. A repeat of that was uppermost in my mind (briefly forgetting the PC!). Unfortunately that wasn't to be, and I had to settle on watching other parrots. The Blue Gums were in full flower and the Muskies and Eastern Rosellas were making the most it. There were several Galahs and a few Green Rosellas to add to the list of parrots. Only a few metres from the car, several pairs of Musks were embroiled in a melee on the side of a eucalypt, with one pair appearing to defend a possible nest hole, about 3 metres up. The brief scrum over, I was intent on finding out whether they were indeed setting up home, and I took the accompanying images while I watched. The two birds sat at the entrance hole, and the male (based on the greater amount of head colour), splayed its tail, and quivered its body feathers. After doing that several times, they took to mutual grooming, mostly of neck feathers, before flying down to the ground. The male lorikeet then searched among the many gum flowers littering the ground, before presenting one to its mate (upper left image). Further mutual grooming, and an attempt at coition, which if it took place, was over in the blink of an eye, was followed by rather more aggressive 'grooming', as shown in the lower left shot. The two birds then sat side by side for sometime, before flying off.
A few metres higher up the tree, was another potential nest hole, this one defended by a pair of Galahs, in between bouts of chasing other pairs around the area.
Having failed in my primary goal of finding Swifties and feeling somewhat invigorated by all the action, I decided to widen my search to nearby Truganini Reserve. But that's another story!

Possible Darter sighting

2008-08-18T07:12:00.002+10:00

I received an email from Eric Woehler (Chair of Birds Tasmania), with an attachment outlining a possible Darter sighting and a request from the observers for help.
The sighting occurred during a wildfowl count at Moulting Lagoon on Tasmania's Eastcoast, about a week ago, and the following is a precis of the event.
During a pre-count briefing it was emphasised that if any unusual birds were seen, to take notes and talk to the organiser about it (Stewart Blackhall) rather than just add it to the list. He mentioned that in the past a Darter was reported, but he was unable to confirm it. This caused some mirth among the seasoned birders, as a Darter would indeed be an unlikely sighting in Tasmania.
On a beautiful calm day, the 4 observers in question, Ron Nagorcka, Ross Monash, Louisa d'Arville and an unnamed parks field officer, headed out on the Sherbourne property in the north-western arm of Moulting Lagoon. During the count, made with the aid of a spotting scope, they counted many wildfowl, especially Black Swans, some Grey Teal, Crested Grebes and cormorant. While doing a count of the cormorant numbers, Louisa excitedly noted a much larger cormorant among the Little Pied and Little Black Cormorants, all grouped together on an old, dilapidated hide. When this 'cormorant' turned its head, it showed off a long, slender, very straight, bright orange bill, with the orange seemingly stretching back behind its eyes. The bill was on the end of a long snakelike neck. After watching it for some time, noting its distinguishing features, they consulted the field guide. The longer tail, large body, long neck and sharp, unhooked bill, saw them all concluding that it was a Darter. Ross and Louisa have both lived in Queensland and seen Darters before, as has Ron.
They did manage to get some, in their words, "blurry photographs", by digiscoping with a camera that was about to run out of battery life! While not ruling out that it could have been a Great Cormorant, the 4 agreed that the bill was different to any cormorant, lacking the hooked end, but the all black bird lacked any white markings on its face, neck or wings, often seen in Darters.
The following day a number of observers went in search of the "darter", without success.
From the above, the 4 birders are requesting your assistance if you're heading for Moulting Lagoon. If you wish to go to the Sherbourne property, which is private land, or you would like more details on how to get there and how to get permission to go on to this property, you may contact Stewart Blackhall on 62336585 or Louisa d'Arville on 62238905.
[NB I am aware of only one other Darter record (but there may be more), sighted at Brumby's Creek, near Poatina, in July and August of 1980. My apologies if, in precising the information that I received, I have omitted or misrepresented any detail of this sighting.]

Denizens of the Deep.....Shade that is!

2008-08-08T11:12:00.008+10:00

After several days of birding the South Arm area, yesterday I decided to try my luck in some of the wet forest areas, and opted for a visit to the Wielangta Forest. Specifically, I birded both ends of the Sandspit River Track, in fact I have to admit to never having walked the whole length of this track, perhaps this Summer? I stopped off at the picnic huts at the southern end, noticing that the sun had yet to clear the tree tops, so the area was still in deep shade. I always listen out for the resident male Pink Robin here, and wasn't disappointed, noting another 'Pink' answering his call from the other side of the road. I walked a few yards, looking for the robin, without success, and anyway deemed the area too 'gloomy' for photography, and set off for the northern end. While still at the northern car park, getting geared up, I noted several more Pink Robins calling in the very still conditions. Tasmanian Thornbills scolded me from the riverside vegetation, and I could hear a distant Golden Whistler calling, as well as a nearby Scarlet Robin. As I neared the forested area, I realised that although I had recorded several species, I had seen very little, and this seemed to be the norm for much of the next couple of hours. The lesson here is, make sure you know your bird calls, otherwise you could have a very frustrating visit! I heard numerous Eastern Spinebills and Strong-billed Honeyeaters, but saw neither. I did see a few of the numerous and very vocal Crescent Honeyeaters, and a glimpse of an Olive Whistler, a common, but retiring resident. I arrived at a spot where I've photographed Scrubtits on previous visits, and I hoped for a repeat performance. The area is primarily of Man Ferns surrounded by thick scrub, with overmature acacias growing up through it. It's main attraction from a photographic stand point, is that a recently dozed firetrail runs close to it, allowing more light into the area. Despite that, it's still not the easiest of spots, and I usually manage to collect leeches as I wander through it, one of those beings that I have an unhealthy loathing of. But, at least on this morning, it proved to be worth the effort, as I quickly found the resident pair of Scrubtits. Scrubtits are thornbill size birds, very active, and often shy, The accompanying images are a few that passed muster, most exhibiting movement of bird or camera, or both, in the less than ideal conditions. Perhaps that's why there seems to be so few images of Scrubtits to be found on the www. Eventually, the pair just disappeared into the scrub, and that was that. I wandered a little farther down the track, but apart from a fleeting view of a Brush Bronzewing, little else was seen. Time to call it a day, well, morning. I did however stop at the picnic huts on my return journey, and walk down to the creek, hoping to see the Pink Robin, which I did, but also in search of more Scrubtits, which I didn't. But I did spot a Bassian Thrush, scraping among the leaf litter in a verdant patch of rainforest. Despite the dingy conditions, I took several shots while it continued feeding. Later, looking at enlarged views of what it was feeding on, I was surprised to see that its prey was mostly winged insects. It continued feeding despite my close approach, and I eventually managed to get a few usable shots, including the accompanying image. For those of a photographic bent, the image was taken at 1/20th second, with a tele lens and no tripod, which says a lot for the Canon image stabilisation system! At least these thrushes do spend a lot of time standing stock still, in much the same way as their cousins, the European Blackbirds do, in many of our suburban gardens.Eventually it flew up onto an overhanging branch some 6 or 7 metres above me, which was something of a surprise, as I've rarely seen them more than a few metres above the ground, they were after all known as the Ground Thrush for many years.

Of Barbs & Barbed Wire

2008-07-27T08:56:00.008+10:00

A few days ago, I made one of what, recently, has become a regular haunt, the Waterview Sanctuary at Sorell. I always start by making a b-line for the water's edge, looking, almost in vain these days, for any migrant waders that might be feeding on the mudflats. Surprise, surprise! A solitary, overwintering, Eastern Curlew, feeding among a small group of Chestnut Teal, but sadly that was the sum total. A quick scan of the fence poles surrounding the chicken factory to sus out the almost resident Brown Goshawk drew a blank, so I wandered along the line of African Boxthorns, bordering the factory. These boxthorns, a noxious weed in Tasmania, are presently the home and a food source for many small birds. As you walk along this line of shrubs, you can see why they were once popular in place of fences. With their long sharp spines, and their ability to grow almost anywhere, and forming impenetrable thickets, they must have been a godsend for early settlers looking for cheap 'fencing'.
On this particular morning, there were numerous New Holland Honeyeaters, many of them now in pairs, several Crescent Honeyeaters, almost all males, small flocks of Silvereyes, feeding on the still green seed pods of the boxthorn, family groups of Superb Fairy-wrens, and the ever present Blackbirds and House Sparrows. As I walked towards the link fence of the chicken factory, the honeyeaters frequent calling, stilled, and almost simultaneously I realised that about 30 metres away, atop a fence post was the immature Brown Goshawk, very animated, and obviously intent on catching breakfast, no doubt drawn there by the to'ing and fro'ing of birds. I say the Brown Goshawk (pictured top right), as there has been one here most of the Autumn and Winter.
Although I tried back tracking, my presence was obviously too much for the hawk, and it soon flew off, flying only a few centimetres above the ground, before propping again atop another post. The hawk was briefly mobbed by a few Forest Ravens, but the hawk seemed unperturbed and they soon gave up. The honeyeaters reappeared from their thorny refuges, many sitting on the topmost parts of the boxthorns, keeping a wary eye out. In the case of the New Hollands, (pictured at right), they were also keeping an eye on each other, and they spent a deal of time chasing one another. As I wandered back to my car, I was delighted to see what was once a common resident here, White-fronted Chat. A pair were sitting on a strand of barbed wire and seemingly reluctant to fly. I photographed them (female at left). Perhaps they're making a welcome return to this area, but I think it more likely they're on their way to nearby Orielton Lagoon. There may not be many waders these days, but the Waterview Sanctuary is still worth a visit, with the possible bonus of the Brown Goshawk.
[ I should add that I also recorded: Hoary-headed Grebe, Little Pied Cormorant, White-faced Heron, Great Egret, Tas. Native Hen, Pied Oystercatcher, all 3 gulls, Galah, Musk Lorikeet, Skylark, Grey Fantail, Brown and Yellow-rumped Thornbills, Yellow and Little Wattlebirds, Yellow-throated Honeyeater, Spotted Pardalote, Goldfinch, Greenfinch, Starling as well as those mentioned]

"Fingers & Thumbs" & Eagles

2008-07-20T07:34:00.005+10:00

One of several recent 'crisp' mornings, saw me driving up to Orford to have a look at the spit, with a plan B, to drop into the Wielangta Forest. As it turned out, Orford was overcast and somewhat foggy, so plan C was a drive further up the east coast to Triabunna and beyond, hoping that by the time I returned, the sun would have broken through. In no particular hurry, I drove out towards the coast to a spot that on several occasions, I've found a White-bellied Sea Eagle in an old, cliff top eucalypt, a tree with a view. No eagle this morning, instead, I stood and watched a dozen or more Australasian Gannets fishing way out in Great Oyster Bay. Little Pied and Black-faced Cormorants flew past me on their way to join them, as did scores of Crested Terns. A cool breeze eventually drove me back into the shelter of my vehicle, and I sat there and contemplated my next move. Far down the coast I noticed a large bird flying towards me, and a quick look through the binoculars established that it was a Wedge-tailed Eagle, a fairly common bird of prey around here at this time of year. I sat and waited as it came ever closer, hoping for a 'photo opp'. Things were looking hopeful, and I finally got out of the car and prepared, but my hopes were dashed when it flew down the other side of the bay and into a clump of Blue Gums. Still a possibility, I reasoned, as the track ran quite close to the gums. Off, back down the track, but a close scrutiny of the trees failed to find any eagle. Time to go back to plan A, Orford Spit. As I drove down the dirt track towards the highway, I had a quick glance at another tree where I've noted eagles of both persuasions over the years. I did a double take, and braked hard. A quick look through the binoculars, yes, there was indeed not one, but three Wedge-tailed Eagles. A presumed pair together near the top, and a somewhat 'patchy' plumaged bird lower down (top left). As they were close to the track, I had high hopes of getting some reasonable images. From there on, photographically speaking, things deteriorated. I think I was so driven by the possibility of some good shots, (in my mind's eye, I think I could already see them), that I omitted to check the camera settings. Bad move! I walked towards them, stopping to take an occasional shot, and mentally registered that all was not well with the camera settings, but chose to ignore that. The lower, immature bird, took flight, and soared slowly in circles above me, I took several shots and stopped to review the images. All was indeed not well. I quickly chose what I thought was the right settings, but my mind was very much focused on the eagles. The immature bird alighted back in the tree, and the very dark, almost certainly adult male, took off. More shots. As I closed on them, the remaining birds took flight, and all three circled the hill, but appeared reluctant to leave (not that I wanted them too!). A score or more photographs later, I left them to it, confident that I'd managed a few decent shots, and they returned to their roost tree.
My optimism proved wrong, as most of the shots had been shot at completely the wrong settings. Obviously in my haste, I had set the camera up incorrectly, and my attempts to correct them while my thoughts were elsewhere, only made things worse. The outcome is that I managed to resurrect a few, two shown here. I also resolved to check before I shoot, and I suspect I will, for a while! Despite the disappointing shots, watching the 3 Wedgetails circle around me at tree top height, made for a memorable morning.

The Double-banded Plover at Ralph's Bay

2008-07-10T08:03:00.008+10:00

I drive past the Lauderdale end of Ralph's Bay on many occasions, it's only a 10 minute drive from my abode. As I pass I often look, make that, always look, out across the bay, scanning for waders. At this time of year, apart from the flocks of Pied Oystercatchers, I can often see other small waders, scattered across the bay, feeding. But, to be honest, I rarely stop to identify what's there. A few days ago, while returning from an outing to the South Arm area that had only been mildly interesting, I spotted a few small flocks roosting close to the road and decided it was time to have a closer look.
During the Winter months, most of what to us are Summer migrants, are off to such areas as Mongolia and Arctic Russia, to breed. The likes of Eastern Curlew, Bar-tailed Godwit, Curlew Sandpipers and Red-necked Stint, that frequent this bay during our warmer months. But even during our Winter, we always have one migrant here, the Double-banded Plover. I always feel there's something rather odd about the Double-banded. For one, while there is an obvious advantage for migrant birds to seek warmer climes, such as more food and a better climate, the Double-banded migrates sideways! These plovers breed in New Zealand, usually away from the coast, and migrate to South-eastern Australia during our Winter. At least a fair number of them do ( some few thousand), the remainder staying in New Zealand, and Tasmania gets a large part of those migrating. Most stay on the coast, but some find their way inland, even into our high country. But if they can find enough food to survive our
Winters, and put on weight for the return journey, what is it that makes Tasmania unsuitable for breeding?
The flock at Lauderdale consisted of about 35 individuals, roosting in the pebbled area, only a few metres from the highway. With them were 20 or more Red-capped Plover and a few overwintering Red-necked Stint, all spreading out on the falling tide, as they began to feed. My main interest in the Double-banded was to get some useable shots of birds in their breeding strip, showing the two bands, and I reasoned that as they should be leaving our shores in August, they should be nearing full breeding plumage. So I was a little disappointed to find that only a few of them were anywhere near that stage. Plumages ranged from that of near breeding plumage of the bird at top left, to that of the individual at right, that still has a long way to go. The lower shot shows a part of the Red-capped Plover flock (and a solitary Double-banded Plover), which appeared to have a preponderance of males. In contrast to their slightly larger New Zealand cousins, they were all resplendent in their breeding plumage. Probably not surprisingly, as they are usually early breeders and I have found nests as early as late July, only a few weeks away.
Ominously, a floating drilling platform was operating not far away, as this area is under threat of being developed into a canal type housing estate, and this area is a 'conservation area'!

A Passing Sea Eagle

2008-07-02T10:29:00.003+10:00

Over the last several weeks I've been sent a number of shots of White-bellied Sea Eagles, and I've had a few close encounters myself. But the weather has been indifferent to awful (but we badly needed the rain), and any chance that I've had to photograph them has been minimal. All that changed recently on a drive round Bellerive Bluff. There was a strong, gusty, South westerly wind blowing, with occasional passing squalls, and in those conditions, I often try my hand at photographing gulls in flight. These conditions often mean that the larger gulls, Pacific and Kelp, will "hang" in flight, just off the bluff, giving me a chance of reasonable results. I had taken several shots, when a passing shower made me take cover back in my car. The shower appeared to have passed so I got out, this time without camera. I scanned the sky for a break in the clouds, satisfied that a break was imminent, and casually looked up as I wandered back to my vehicle to get my camera. Aha! High above me was a solitary adult White-bellied Sea Eagle, soaring majestically, almost stationary as it rode the wind. Magnificent, but far too high for any worthwhile shots, so I contented myself with watching it through my binos. I momentarily took my eyes off it, and when I looked back the eagle was in a near vertical dive, wings folded back, and traveling at considerable speed. I panicked at this point, unsure of whether to grab the camera or just watch, and I tried to do both! I was most interested to record its possible victim, which I fondly assumed was a fish. Wrong! It was in fact a 1st year Kelp Gull flying past some hundred metres away. It saw, or perhaps heard, the eagle's approach, and jinked at the right moment (right if you're the gull!), and the eagle flew on towards Bellerive Beach and out of my sight. Cursing that I'd not even got a record shot of the, albeit, distant event, I consoled myself that I had at least witnessed the exciting episode. Standing there, still mulling over what might have been, I had failed to notice that, like the gulls I had been photographing earlier, the Sea Eagle was now just in front of me, drifting past into wind. Snapping back into reality, I just had time to take a few shots, one shown here. It then hung in the updraught at the edge of the bluff, not more than 30 metres away, but tail on to me, before sliding away along the coast. I really must stay more alert!

Sign of Things to Come?......Pied Oystercatcher

2008-06-22T08:54:00.008+10:00

Returning from Granton recently, I decided to look in at Montrose Bay at Rosetta, a northern Hobart suburb. I was primarily interested in looking for the Little Black Cormorant that usually roost on the small wooden jetty (now condemned), together with Great and Little Pied Cormorant. And indeed I found all 3 on the jetty, enjoying what I suspect is a brief respite before the jetty is demolished, as there's a new, all concrete one, a short distance away. But my interest turned to the flock of around 50 Pied Oystercatchers, feeding on the grassed area behind the yacht club. I've found them in this area before, feeding on the nearby, well manicured and watered playing fields of the local school. But as they were being mown, the oystercatchers were making the most of the public area, only 20 or 30 metres away from one of the state's busiest highways, the 'Brooker". I was intent on getting a few shots of them as they fed, but not too close as to flush them, which proved fairly easy, despite the to'ing and fro'ing of cars and people to the nearby children's play area. I walked back to my car, noting a few oystercatchers roosting on the grass near the yacht club, one of which flew up onto the roof of a nearby building, joining a few loafing Silver Gulls. That at least I hadn't noted before, and wondered whether the POs regularly use this roof to roost on, particularly at times when this council recreation area is in full swing. That would certainly be unusual, and well worth looking out for. The use by Pied Oystercatchers of grassed areas to feed, often well away from their usual haunts, as in this case, appears to be a fairly recent change of habit. I've also noted them feeding on grassed areas at Dover, Gordon and Franklin. Perhaps with sea levels rising, this will become the norm amongst our oystercatcher population, and regularly choosing to roost on roofs inevitable.

What Early Bird?

2008-06-17T10:35:00.010+10:00

With such fine weather of the last few days, I finally threw off my recent lethargy, and with an early start, headed for the Goat Bluff area. I have a routine at Goat Bluff, starting with the short walk to the lookout. Occasionally, especially during the Winter months, you can spot the odd albatross, albeit, usually some kilometres off the coast. But that morning, I could only pick out a few Australasian Gannet, and a mob of gulls off nearby Betsey Island. With a stiff breeze blowing, and frost still evident on the ground, I was glad to get away from that exposed spot and into the coastal scrub. Walking down the track towards Hope Beach, I was struck (and disappointed) by the lack of birds. A few distant Crescent Honeyeaters called, and the odd, unmistakable twinkling, of an Eastern Spinebill, but little else. I reached a spot close to the beach and scanned the area. I picked up a pair of Hooded Plovers, a rare sighting on this beach in recent times, and then an adult White-bellied Sea Eagle, low over the sea, leisurely making its way to Betsey. It was some consolation, but I had expected more. I wandered back up, and down the eastern side of the bluff, hoping to see at least a Striated Fieldwren, a common, if elusive, resident here. No show, only a flock of passing Silvereyes, and the calling of unseen Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos in the scrub below. By now I had been here nearly 2 hours, taken a few scenic shots in the low angle light, and was about to give up. Back up to the car park, one last look along the road--and then they all started appearing! I disturbed the small flock of resident Yellow-rumped Thornbills, now reduced to just 3, from a dozen or more in the Summer--casualties, or moved on? Then a number of honeyeaters, feeding on the few remaining banksia flowers, passed in quick succession, as I stood and watched. Firstly an Eastern Spinebill, supplanted shortly by a Crescent Honeyeater, in turn pushed out by the very nervous Yellow-throated Honeyeater, pictured at right. Eager to get some shots of Yellowrumps, I positioned myself in the scrub near where they were feeding, and eventually, one came just close enough to get a worthwhile shot (lower left). Hoping that I might get a better shot, I waited. It proved fruitless for the Yellowrumps, but instead, I had a succession of birds prop on top of a nearby dead sheoak. First a Grey Fantail, then a Yellowthroat, followed by a Crescent Honeyeater, a pair of Scarlet Robins, and finally a few Black-headed Honeyeaters (top left). So I got my fill of photographs, but left wondering why I had bothered to get there so early!

Whoa! Great Egret Aerobatics

2008-06-10T18:32:00.005+10:00

I made a brief diversion to Gould's Lagoon recently, while returning from a trip to New Norfolk. I had little time for anything but a quick scan, but seeing the resident Great Egret close to the highway, I couldn't resist getting out and taking a few shots. While it usually puts up with passing pedestrians, it was suspicious of my intentions, as you can see (top left image). However it allowed me to take a few shots before it flew a few metres, landed and carried on feeding. As I stood deciding whether to try for more shots, it took off again, calling with the usual croaking call, as it climbed ever higher, then circled some hundred metres or more over the lagoon. I watched, wondering whether I had been responsible for this action--I get, perhaps justifiably, paranoid about overstepping that indefinable line between legitimate watching and harrying birds, especially when attempting photography. So I stood there willing it back down to the lagoon, when it went into a series of high speed dives and loops, pulling what in an aircraft, would be described as high g turns. Frankly, I've watched many hundreds of egrets, but this display can only be described as awesome! As you can see, I shot off a few images, albeit from some distance away. If you look closely at the images (by clicking on them), you may see the distortion of its' body, particularly in the neck, during these high speed aerobatics. The whole episode was over in a matter of minutes, and it soon descended back to the lagoon, and after a few laps round it, landed on one of the decaying nest boxes, close to the hide. I returned to my car, quite relieved that the egret had returned, but still puzzled by the event. My thoughts as I drove back, were that perhaps it was a reaction to a predator, possibly a Peregrine Falcon, the local White-bellied Sea Eagle, or one of the overwintering Marsh Harriers, unseen by me. Perhaps you may have seen a similar display and have a better explanation. An interesting brief visit.

Another Tick--but only just!

2008-06-02T15:09:00.004+10:00

I received an email from Bill Wakefield on Sunday morning, saying that Tim Reid had reported a Pink-eared Duck on "Lake Chook" at Gretna (I assume the name is an unofficial birder name!). Unable to check it out on the weekend due to family commitments, today (Monday) I opted for an early morning start. Well, in my eastern shore suburb, it was bright and sunny, so I set off with high hopes of seeing said bird. But....the whole of the Derwent Valley was in thick fog. Being a supreme optimist, you have to be to photograph birds, I kept going, telling myself the weather at Gretna would be clear. Wrong!
The stretch of water concerned, is a large farm dam, opposite the Gretna village hall. At the moment, being one of the few stretches of water still extant, due to low rainfall, it holds good numbers of waterfowl. Arriving, my heart sank, visibility was extremely poor, with a thick mist over the entire area that, in the very still conditions, was unlikely to lift for some hours. I pulled off to the side of the road and scanned the area. Numbers of teal, shoveler, black duck, coot, Hoary-headed Grebe, and Black Swan, but no pink-eared. There was obviously many other birds further down the dam, but in the conditions they were just ghostly blobs. At the risk of scaring everything, I got out of the car and walked down to the fence, hoping that would enable me to 'see' a little further down the dam. Little stirred, except a solitary Black-fronted Plover calling--I think they were having trouble seeing me! I scanned again, just being able to make out 4 Hardheads on a small islet, mid water. I was fast coming to the conclusion that this really was a waste of time, but thought I'd have one last scan. Voila! The unmistakable outline of a Pink-eared Duck, about a hundred metres away! Must get a record shot, just to prove I did see it--top left. (Yes, I know it doesn't look foggy, but that's entirely down to digital imaging, for which I'm truly grateful).
Pink-eared Duck are considered a rare vagrant in Tasmania, and Bill tells me that this is only the 8th record for the state. From memory, most of the records have come from the far NW of Tasmania. It's also my first sighting of this species in Tasmania, and I've been around a long time! My thanks to Bill and Tim.

The Bread Run

2008-05-29T12:28:00.007+10:00

Every other day, I do a 'bread run'. None of this pre-packaged bread for me, only the 'proper' stuff. So it was today, on a heavily overcast morning, with the hint of much needed rain, that I did my run. I always take my camera with me, and do a drive round the Bellerive waterfront, hoping for a possible photo op.. Nothing much about, even the usual gulls seemed absent, but I caught sight of a White-faced Heron, standing on the railing of the yacht club's pier. So out I get, and took a few shots, albeit in less than perfect conditions, but you have to take your opportunities. As I crept ever closer, I was suddenly aware of a commotion in the water beyond the jetty. A pod of around 20 Common Dolphin, obviously chasing fish, were passing, some only a few metres from the shore. I was a bit torn at this stage! Realising that I am rarely present at these dolphin moments, I opted to 'shoot' the dolphins, and ignore the heron. Well it soon became apparent that to take any meaningful shots would need better reflexes than I've got! Lots of shots of dorsal fins, not much else, save for a single shot of a dolphin leaping, taken by pure chance, as it was just beyond others that I was targetting! I, and a number of other bystanders, were given a great display, as the pod moved into Kangaroo Bay. I suspect their prey was probably Black-backed Salmon, but that's only an educated guess. In minutes they turned back into the Derwent River, still chasing fish, paralleling the shore for a few hundred metres and then out into deeper water. A great sight and a great adjunct to my 'bread run'.

Little Swanport Melee

2008-05-27T13:51:00.011+10:00

Feeling in need of a field outing, I was somewhat frustrated by the forecast of rain for the Hobart area, with showers moving in from the West. So I opted for an early morning dash up the Eastcoast, which appeared likely to give me some chance of reasonable weather, albeit, only for a short while. On the road at sunrise, I arrived at the mouth of Little Swanport with some expectations, but as I surveyed the inlet from the boat ramp, apart from a solitary Great Egret, there wasn't much about. However, I was really looking in the wrong direction, because as I turned towards the inlet mouth, there, strung out across the entrance, was a good number of Australian Pelican and Great Cormorant, riding the substantial swell, and feasting on schools of fish. I rapidly drove off to the entrance, leapt out of the car, and started taking shots of the pelicans, realising as I did so, that the schools of fish were moving down the inlet and taking the birds with them. If only I had arrived just a little earlier--the story of my life! In about ten minutes there were only a few birds remaining, but a couple of Australasian Gannet, fishing just outside of the breakers, gave me some chance of getting a few shots, so I walked out to the headland and waited. As you
can see from the accompanying shots, I managed a few distant shots, including one in a dive, just about to hit the water. I watched the gannets closely as they fished around the bay, noting their fishing methods, particularly how they use their tail as a dive brake by depressing it, causing them to stall and slowing them down. A quick hover, followed by their spectacular dive and plunge--magnificent! I've watched as large flocks of them repeatedly plunge dive, sometimes from only a few metres above the surface, presumably when their prey is near the surface, or in shallow water. Neither of the 2 gannets in the bay came really close, as I'd hoped, but they were certainly still worth watching.
Back down the inlet, some of the pelicans and cormorants, now joined by Crested Terns and the odd Kelp and Pacific Gull, were fishing close to the boat ramp, so I made another quick drive to close on them. Most of the Great Cormorants were now drying out on the sandbanks, probably having had their fill of fish, leaving only an odd bird or two fishing, along with tens of Crested Terns and a few pelicans. It's always a somewhat frantic scene, as some of the hapless fish, in this case mainly Garfish, come up to the surface, giving the birds their chance of a feed. It's an all in melee, often only for a few minutes, before the fish are sighted elsewhere, causing another frantic chase. Whether caused by frustration or perhaps a reaction, I noted the confrontation photographed at lower left. A Great Cormorant surfaced close to the pelican, garfish in bill. This immediately caused the pelican to set off in pursuit of it. The pelican quickly overhauled the cormorant, landed on top of it, causing the cormorant to dive. The pelican failed to acquire the fish, but it did leave me wondering why it had bothered. Perhaps the schools of fish were in too deep water for the pelican to successfully catch them, or perhaps this is a quite normal occurrence.
I had only been at Little Swanport for about an hour or so, and by now the pelicans were fishing well down the inlet, in much shallower water, better suited to them, and the weather was closing in. Time to leave. A well worthwhile trip, my only regret was not arriving sooner. I stopped off briefly at Rostrevor Lagoon, near Triabunna, on my way back. The water level is very low--both Orford and Triabunna have water restrictions at the 'critical' level, and perhaps not surprisingly, the lagoon is a refuge for waterfowl, and there were some hundreds there. Of particular interest was the presence of 24 Blue-billed Duck and 17 Hardheads, both species uncommon in Tasmania, although Rostrevor Lagoon is one of the more reliable venues for seeing them.

Tasmanian & Brown Thornbills

2008-05-16T13:38:00.009+10:00

I've been setting up a pbase site of bird photographs, during a recent bout of illness. While doing so, I happened to find a few similar shots, taken in similar lighting conditions, comparing two of what appears to be, among the more difficult Tasmanian birds to separate. I say appears to be, as I've noted a spat of reported sightings of Tasmanian Thornbills in areas and habitat that are not "usual"--no names, no pack drill! While I'd not like to say that they could never occur at these sites, they appear to be recorded by visitors to this state, which makes me 'uneasy'! I'm not setting myself up as an expert, merely hoping that the accompanying images will help separate two similar species. Tasmanians on the left, Browns on the right.
There appear to be a few obvious differences--easy when you have images and not looking at birds in the canopy or against the light. The Browns are much better marked on the breast, and they have noticeably larger bills. The undertail coverts are light brown in the Brown, and white in the Tasmanian--t
his has been one of my diagnostic points to look for, often very noticeable in the Tasmanian, as they are often seen 'fluffed ' out. I would be disinclined to use any colour differences you may note, as the vagaries of my image editing, and the differences of screen colour settings, will influence this.
So if you're looking at 'brown' thornbills in Tasmania, I suggest you go for a couple of the diagnostic points, to satisfy yourself of the species. In the main, the endemic Tasmanian Thornbill will be in wetter, more heavily forested areas, especially in the South East.
The Tasmanian Thornbill images were shot in the Wielangta Forest, and the Browns in the Peter Murrell Reserve.

NB.If you're interested in looking at the Tasmanian Bird images that I'm currently inputting, you may find them at www.pbase.com/tassiebirds , I will eventually put a link in. The site is still under construction.

Tinderbox, Still Worth a Visit

2008-04-27T08:18:00.005+10:00

Late last week, I had occasion to visit Kingston, and not wishing to waste the opportunity to go birding, I left early and planned a side excursion to Tinderbox. Once, a few decades ago, Tinderbox was synonymous with Forty-spotted Pardalote. Since then, the area has been developed, largely with low density housing,and birders wishing to see 40 spots, have usually visited the nearby Peter Murrell reserve. Not dressed for birding, I reasoned that I could bird from the open area adjacent to the WW2 gun battery site, and I wasn't disappointed.
I arrived around 8am, on a beautiful still day, marred only by the smoke haze from Forestry burns that have covered SE Tasmania for several days. Initially I sat in the car listening, birding is often more about listening than looking, but apart from several guttural calls from a nearby Yellow Wattlebird, not much stirred. I wandered down towards the light overlooking the mouth of the Derwent River. I picked out calling Crescent Honeyeaters, the "tok-tok"call of a Yellow-throated Honeyeater, and a group of Black-headed Honeyeaters, feeding in the canopy of nearby Blue Gums. I heard, then saw, the first of many Spotted Pardalote, several chasing one another. I should mention here that, unlike last Autumn/Winter, when they were numerous, I haven't sighted a single Striated Pardalote since mid March. Walking towards the edge of the woodland, I stopped to watch and photograph, a passing Eastern Spinebill (bottom photo), one of several, mostly feeding on the red flowers of a small prostrate plant, that I should know the name of, but don't! Several small flocks of Little Wattlebirds passed overhead, as did a Peregrine Falcon, causing the whole woodland to fall into silence. I walked back up the hill towards the road. Here I watched the antics of a flock of New Holland Honeyeaters, mostly defending feeding rights to certain trees, chasing off other New Hollands, or any other birds that trespassed. Then, with much noisy chattering, they would all cluster close together in a huddle, before noisily breaking up to return to their territory, quite comical at times. It was while watching the honeyeaters that I heard the contact call of the Forty-spotted Pardalote, and saw the first of several, this one being chased out of a euc viminalis by one the honeyeaters. Despite that, the 40 spots were pretty determined, and shortly returned, and I spent the next 20 minutes watching them. As with the Spotted Pardalotes, there was a lot of chasing going on, which I assume is related to pairing. Although feeding mostly amongst the outer foliage of their chosen eucalypts, and often hard to watch, I did manage a few shots of them (not brilliant!), including one showing 2 birds (image on the right), something of a first for me! I must say that I had little expectation of seeing any 40 spots, let alone photographing them, so that was a bonus.
So perhaps Tinderbox is still worth a visit, at least at this time of year. As a sequel to this, I stopped about a kilometre down the road towards Blackman's Bay, to talk to an old friend, and saw yet more 40 spots, so there appears to be a good few about.

A Tale of Two Wrens

2008-04-22T18:19:00.009+10:00

Two recent outings saw me coming to grips with two of Tasmania's more elusive wrens. The first was during a search of the western side of the Derwent for recently arrived egrets. At my first stop, Gould's Lagoon, I did manage to find a single Great Egret and a single Cattle Egret roosting in the dead tree normally occupied by cormorants. The Great Egret flew from that tree, shortly after I arrived, and joined 3 other "Greats" flying upstream above the river. I moved on to New Norfolk, hoping to see the usual small flock of Cattle Egrets feeding in the irrigated paddocks on the outskirts, but drew a blank. A little deflated, I dropped into the Old Hop Field reserve, specifically to the sewage ponds, where a surprising range of birds may be seen, including the Yellow-throated and Black-headed Honeyeaters, and Yellow Wattlebird (all Tasmanian endemic species), robins, Native Hen, the occasional Dusky Moorhen, Chestnut Teal and Black Duck. Noting a male Superb Fairywren still resplendent in full adult plumage, I tried
closing for a photograph. I scrambled a couple, before being scolded by a Tasmanian Scrubwren. I was a little surprised to find one here, among the willows lining the creek, with blackberries and hop plants forming a dense mass in between, much of it now acquiring that attractive golden Autumn look. Perhaps inured to passing humans, it reacted well to 'pishing', and I took several shots, two reproduced here (2 upper shots). They're seldom easy to photograph, being very active and occupying the shadier situations, so I was glad to make the most of it.
The following day, I drove down to Goat Bluff, near South Arm. I was interested to see whether the Flame Robins were still present, as some of these robins form flocks, and part of the local population migrates to the Mainland. Wandering round the light scrub on the eastern side of the bluff, I found a solitary 'brown' Flame Robin, so most of the several pairs that had territories here, appear to have moved elsewhere. Watching this Flame Robin singing from the top of a fence post, I noticed another bird, also singing, on a fence wire a few metres from the robin. Nearing the two songsters, the robin flew, leaving the other, a Striated Fieldwren. As I watched it from a few metres away, I realised that there were at least 2 other fieldwrens in the area, also singing, in their case from on top of low bushes. I was pleasantly surprised that, in general and with care, I could get close enough to get acceptable images, two of which are shown (2 lower images). As I have found on other occasions, in sunny still conditions, almost year round, these fieldwrens call from conspicuous perches, presumably to establish or reinforce their territories. In between bouts of song, they would forage on the narrow tracks, often running along the tracks with amazing speed.
So despite failing to achieve what I had set out for, on both outings, it was pleasing to get to photograph 2 birds that often prove difficult. Both species are common, in suitable habitat, in Tasmania, but, particularly the fieldwren, can prove difficult to find, notably when you're trying to find them for visiting birders!

Brief Encounter......Brown Goshawk

2008-04-14T14:07:00.008+10:00

Sunday morning, and undecided were to bird, I ended up at the Waterview Reserve at Sorell. This reserve is on the old Sorell tip site, and was once renown for high tide wader sightings. Sadly, these days there are few waders, their place taken by hundreds of gulls and Forest Ravens. Despite that, I have noted one saving grace on my infrequent visits, raptors, and my Sunday visit was no exception.
I had only been there a few minutes when a raptor flew from the sewage ponds and off towards the chicken factory grounds. I tentatively identified it as a Brown Goshawk, partly on silhouette and partly on having seen one here several months ago. I wandered on towards the water to scan the area. A few Chestnut Teal, 4 Pelican, several Little Pied and Black-faced Cormorant, a solitary Great Cormorant and a few dozen Pied Oystercatchers spread out on the distant tidal flats. Turning towards the chicken factory, I instantly picked up the raptor, this time sitting atop the wire mesh boundary fence. I decided to try to get close enough to ID it and possibly photograph it.
Using the numerous boxthorn bushes as cover, I closed to about 80metres, took a few shots, looked closely and decided it was indeed a Brown Goshawk, in immature plumage. Could I get closer? Using some dead ground and more boxthorn, I got to about 50 metres. It didn't appear to be too disturbed by my now obvious presence, but when it shortly 'voided', I knew it would soon be off! It flew, not far though, this time sitting on top of one of the many large hay bales, looking back towards me. While sighting it through my tele lens, it suddenly took flight, this time towards me and only inches off the ground, and fast! I desperately tried to get the camera to autofocus on this 'missile' as it passed, getting the one shot pictured at top. It disappeared in the fold of the slope, reappearing briefly, as it pulled debris from a pile of dry plants (image at right). Down again, and mantling over something, but I could only see the occasional flap of the wing. Off with something in its left talon, propping down on a nearby hay bale (at left). A quick look around and it was off into the blue gum plantation and lost to sight. It took me sometime to work out what it had caught (by looking at the enlarged images), which turned out to be some hapless mouse. The whole process was over in well under 2 minutes, and for me, they were very much adrenalin filled! Big buzz, and a record of it to take home to boot.[I suggest it's worth clicking and enlarging the upper image in particular, to see the goshawk in full cry]

The Myrtle Forest, Wellington Park

2008-04-12T08:12:00.009+10:00

I am rather a creature of habit, and anyone regularly reading this blog will be aware that I often visit the same places, but occasionally, I break out. Lying in bed the other morning and knowing that the forecast was for one of those idyllic Tasmanian Autumn days, I racked my brains for a 'new' place to visit that wasn't too far away. Going back in my mind over the last 30 years or so, I recalled birding a spot in the foothills of Mt. Wellington, near Collinsvale, about 30 minutes drive away. A quick look on the internet confirmed there was a reserve there, named as "The Myrtle Forest", and I headed for the hills.
Arriving, I realised that the area had changed out of all recognition from my last visit, it sported a formal car park, and a formal road in, and I set off down the track with high hopes. I passed the picnic hut and started the climb and shortly came across a trio fungi hunting, one of whom was David Ratkovsky, a birder from way back, whom some of the long time birders will recall. He co-authored 2 papers on the birds of the Mt Wellington Range. After a chat, I decided that I'd take one of the side tracks that I'd passed earlier, which, apart from anything else, gave more chance of photography than the heavier rainforest. That proved a good move!
At first I thought the track was probably an old, now overgrown, fire trail, but debris along the track suggests it was probably an early logging access road. Much of this area was destroyed in the 1967 bushfires that ravaged much of what is now, the Wellington Park. The climb took me away from the manfern-lined creek, into more open forest, with a thick understory of shrubs and cutting grass. The predominant birds were Crescent Honeyeaters, noisy as ever, Eastern Spinebills, Tasmanian Scrubwrens, and small parties of passing Tasmanian Thornbills, one individual briefly posing for me, (pictured at top right). Overhead, there were numerous flocks of Strong-billed Honeyeaters feeding in the tops of the eucalypts, several Green Rosellas, not to mention the noisy flocks of Black Currawong, flighting down the mountainside.
As the track narrowed, largely with encroaching cutting grass, and the bush either side became denser and wetter, I saw the first of several Olive Whistlers, feeding on the track. I stopped to photograph it, a female. As I stood there, I became aware of first one, then a flock of perhaps 10-12, Scrubtits feeding among this dense scrub. I think this is the largest flock that I've ever sighted. A few ventured to the edge of the scrub, enabling me to get a shot or two, one of which is shown at left. They were gleaning insects from both the trunks and leaves, and in a short while, had moved on. Perhaps, as their name suggests, this is their true habitat, but it's not the habitat that I usually associate them with. Perhaps I've been looking in the wrong place! I also saw and photographed the first of several Pink Robins that I recorded along the track, mostly males. It was interesting to notice the difference in their calls, one had a call that had a 'fault' in it, sounding rather like a vinyl record that had been badly scratched! I tried, unsuccessfully, to photograph the Tasmanian Scrubwrens, of which there were many ensconced in the thick scrub, but they were quite content to stay there and scold me as I passed. While having one last try at photographing them, I was 'rewarded' by having a solitary Yellow-throated Honeyeater, alight on the underside of an overhanging branch just above my head, and feed by pulling the bark back to expose insects, (bottom image), and in case you're wondering, it is the right way round! Like all of the Tasmanian endemic honeyeaters, and somewhat in contradiction of their name, they spend much of their time searching for insects under the bark of trees, displaying great agility in the process.
All in all, a great morning, and I managed to 'shoot' a number of other species in the process, which I hope to blog soon. In the right conditions, this is a great area to bird.

Dusky Moorhen & More

2008-04-06T12:52:00.007+10:00

A recent phone call from Bob Patterson, a long time friend and birder, set me scanning the skies for 'swifts', well White-throated Needletails, to give them their proper name. It was a week or so ago, before the 'big blow', and on a day forecasting a thunderstorm. Bob had mentioned hundreds over his suburb of Blackman's Bay, but I only managed distant views of small numbers around the hills and over the Derwent River, from Bellerive. 'Swifts' seem to be far less frequently observed in the Hobart area these days, and I often spend time expectantly scanning the clouds during suitable weather conditions. By suitable weather, I'm referring to warm humid days, preceding storm fronts.
Bob and I go way back, to arguably the heyday of the local birding scene ('70s and '80s), certainly as far as amateur scientific work is concerned. Today, quite rightly, the emphasis is more on conservation. I suspect, like me, he takes a somewhat jaundiced view of some of today's 'instant experts', in a hurry to show their limited knowledge of the local birding scene! (Perhaps we were similarly perceived by the established birders when we first started).
Bob also mentioned that on an old farm dam, close to the Antarctic Division's HQ at Kingston, he had seen some Dusky Moorhen and Australasian Grebe. Neither are these days considered to be rare in Tasmania, but certainly worthy of mention. The grebe has always been a bit thin on the ground, most often found on farm dams, and was considered rare during the first Australian Bird Atlas (1977-1981). The first breeding record was in 1965, since when a slow increase has occurred. The similar, Hoary-headed Grebe, is widely recorded around the state.
The Dusky Moorhen is a more recent 'invader', first recorded on Flinders Island in 1935, and present and breeding since the 1960s, on King Island. By 1977 it was recorded as breeding in the Launceston area (I can remember seeing them there then, on the surrounds of the then Launceston tip). From that time there has been a gradual southward range expansion.
An early morning visit to Kingston found 4 Australasian Grebe, and a similar number of Dusky Moorhen, as well as a few Black Duck, and 2 Eurasian Coot, on the less than one hectare pond. Trying to get close enough for worthwhile images, particularly of the rather timid moorhens, proved difficult, almost to the point of total failure! The pond is fringed by reeds and protected by an impenetrable 'hedge' of Blackberry bushes, but eventually I 'scrambled' the accompanying images after several circuits of the dam. Watching the moorhens, there appeared to be 2 juveniles (one pictured at lower right), an adult (top right), and an 'intermediate' plumaged bird (upper left).
While compiling this piece, I've spent sometime looking at various images of moorhens, and the bird that I've described as "intermediate", still seems to be odd. It certainly seems to lack the white undertail feathers which is present even in the younger birds. I'm leaning towards the possibility that it is a hybrid cross between coot and moorhen, but with my limited recent acquaintance with Dusky Moorhen, I'm hesitant to be categoric! Certainly there are records of coot and moorhen hybridising in Europe, so that could be a possibility. It spends all its time with the other duskies, so it thinks it's a Dusky! Not sure whether such a cross has been recorded in Australia. It also fits with the possibility of it being a parent of the two younger birds. Probably of academic interest only, but I'd still like to hear from anyone having any thoughts on this.
The Australasian Grebes were far easier to approach, but being much smaller, presented other issues. Although I've seen both of these species many times over the years, this was the first time I've managed to photograph them, so a 'thank you' to Bob!
[NB.The area surrounding the dam will soon be a housing estate, although I understand the dam will be retained.]

The Big Blow

2008-04-04T15:51:00.002+11:00

It would be remiss of me not to at least mention in passing, the big blow that hit wide areas of Tasmania in the early hours of yesterday (Thursday) morning. With winds reaching a reported 176km/hr on a nearby hill, I can confirm that it was an horrendous, sleepless night. Many houses suffered damage, most of it relatively minor (loss of roofing etc), and many hundreds of trees were damaged or blown down, some taking out power lines causing blackouts (nearly 5 hours in my case). After an inspection of the outside of the house, thankfully intact, and removing some of the tree debris from my garden, I drove to a nearby vantage point overlooking the Derwent River. From there I took the accompanying shot of one of several Australasian Gannets fishing offshore, their white plumage contrasting against the dullness of the morning. They were among many hundreds of 'muttonbirds', (the local name for the Short-tailed Shearwater), living up to their name, flying fast and low over the water. Close inspection through the bins., I noticed scores of Crested Terns, and way down the river, 2 Giant Petrel, unfortunately too far away for me to ID whether they were Northern or Southern. By mid morning the strong winds had abated and so had all the action in the river, but the memory of the big blow will not be so easily forgotten!

"Happy Hour" at Gould's Lagoon.

2008-03-30T13:07:00.009+11:00

Nearly a week ago, with rain forecast for later in the day, I decided to make a dash out to Gould's Lagoon in the hope that there might be sufficient exposed mud for the crakes to put in an appearance. In that regard I was out of luck, and there was little on the lagoon to excite me, with only 40 odd Coot, and a few duck, mainly Chestnut Teal. I wandered down to the bird hide, (which I think the council has given up on cleaning, and who can blame them!) From the hide I noted a few Purple Swamphens, 2 Kelp Gulls, and the roost of Little Pied and Little Black Cormorants in a tree overlooking the lagoon. I emerged from the hide just in time to note a passing Caspian Tern, a species I've rarely recorded here, but is often seen hawking over the nearby Derwent Marshes at this time of year. A little deflated by the lack of birds, I drove back to the highway, parked, and start my rounds of that side of the lagoon, just as the sun came out. This seemed to mark the start of a hive of activity, starting with a fly by over the nearby marsh, of a White-breasted Sea Eagle, hotly pursued by a number of Kelp Gulls. Perhaps it was this that started a procession of ducks, mostly Black Duck and Chestnut Teal, with a few Blue-winged Shoveler, winging in from the Derwent River. As I walked along the side of the highway, the 2 Black Swan pictured at top, came low over the road and alighted among the reeds. A few steps later and several Crested Terns, including a few juvenile birds, started hunting over the open water, occasionally diving, seemingly unsuccessfully, while their young sat atop posts, calling for food. The large gathering of Masked Plover sitting on top of the railway embankment started to get very agitated, calling loudly. I stopped and looked around, half expecting to see a Swamp Harrier, a common sight during the Summer, but most have departed. Deciding that whatever had disturbed them had passed on, I nearly missed the high speed pass of an Australian Hobby. My reaction was to try to photograph it, which really was a nonsense! It flew very low, very fast, over the northern end of the reserve, heading towards the river, picking up yet more speed as it passed the rail line, and down to the marshes. A fantastic sight, and the first time I've recorded this species here. (I think I should just mention at this point that I thought I sighted a wagtail! My view was against the light, and near the railway embankment, and very briefly, as it flew in the typical undulating flight, disappearing over the bank. I did look for it, without success, and the probability is that I was mistaken.)
I ambled back towards the car, stopping to photograph a male Blue-winged Shoveler (bottom right), a species that is a regular here and in the nearby Derwent Marshes. As I stood there, I heard the unmistakable screeches of an approaching Sulphur-crested Cockatoo. Landing among the 50 odd roosting cormorants, still screeching, proved too much for the cormorants, and they took flight, circling the lagoon. A bonus for me, as I took numerous shots as they passed. The roost was largely composed of Little Pied (c.30) and Little Black (c.20), and a few Great. While I was here, I also photographed 2 individual Little Black Cormorants carrying 'vegetation', one of which is illustrated at lower left. This suggests to me, that they may well be breeding nearby-- both birds flew off heading North. This species has been recorded breeding locally before, but there are relatively few recent breeding records for Tasmania.
The above episode had taken less than an hour, so despite missing out on the crakes, I think I can justifiably say that I had indeed had a "happy hour" at Gould's!
[NB Before someone corrects me, the Blue-winged Shoveler is now known as the Australasian Shoveler--at least it is according to my field guide!]

Long Haul to Fledging.......Pied Oystercatcher

2008-03-24T19:18:00.007+11:00

I've watched the progress of two Pied Oystercatcher chicks over the past few months as they've grown. They are the progeny of a pair of POs that nest close by the oyster sheds at Pipeclay Lagoon. Their first attempt was most probably washed out, as they nested on a shingle bank close to the high tide line. This is a familiar fate for many oystercatcher nests, and with global warming bearing down on us, this is a potentially serious threat. I never found these chicks at the newly hatched stage, and I'm guessing that the age of the two at top right, is about a couple of weeks. The shot taken around the third week of January. As you can see, they're both in the water, and the high tide strategy against predators, is to swim away. PO young are accomplished divers too, and will dive, as a last resort, when hotly pursued.
The shot of the 2 youngsters running, was taken on the 8th February, and by now there is a marked difference in their size. Less than 2 weeks later, towards the end of February, one runner had disappeared, and I can only speculate on the cause. Given the size difference, perhaps it was food related, but predation from a range of likely suspects, ranging from harriers to gulls is possible, as is the possibility they were taken by cats or dogs. The latter a real possibility, as I've seen dogs being exercised off lead, along this very narrow stretch of beach.
By the end of the first week of March, when the shot of the remaining chick with one of its parents was taken, the chick is approaching fledging, but still dependent on its parents for food. This juvenile was soliciting the adult for food, constantly walking round and round its parent. Occasionally it would flex its wings, and the primaries were clearly not fully developed for flight. By the 18th of March, success, it could finally fly! Rather hesitantly, and somewhat reluctantly, but it could fly. So after around 8 weeks it had made it, but its still dependent on a parent to feed it.
I'll continue to keep an eye on its progress.

A Walk on the Wildside

2008-03-15T12:46:00.008+11:00

Mid week, I had this sudden urge to spend some time birding a buttongrass plain. Having spent many hours walking them, in all weathers, and generally finding them close to a birding desert, I'm not quite sure why I had this urge! (I took part in a fortnight's scientific survey in a similar area, in the SW of Tasmania, in which we only recorded 24 species of birds in a fortnight). I chose to drive out to the Scott's Peak Road, some 30 kilometres West of Maydena, and an area that has numerous, extensive areas of buttongrass. Buttongrass is a sedge that grows on some of the most nutrient poor soils found anywhere. The 'buttons" are the seed heads produced at the top of stems. They are widespread in many poorly drained areas of Tasmania. Turning off the Gordon Road at Frodsham's Pass and on to the Scott's Peak Road, I eventually stopped at a spot between and below, Mt. Bowes and Mt. Anne. It had potential, I thought, with a line of stunted and flowering Banksia marginata along one side of the road, and a buttongrass plain that had been burnt, probably around 12 months ago, the sedge having recovered, on the other. The temperature was still fairly cool, below 10C, and there was a heavy mist hanging over the whole valley, but it appeared to be burning off rapidly. As soon as I got out of my car, I could hear and see that I appeared to have chosen the spot well. In quick succession, I spotted Crescent and New Holland Honeyeaters in abundance, many off them obviously this season's crop, most of them noisily chasing one another. I noted a young Pink Robin (way out of its usual habitat), several Dusky Robins, and a couple of Striated Fieldwrens. Buttongrass plains are to my mind, the habitat for Striated Fieldwrens . In the Spring, you can often find them in abundance, calling from the tops of the sedges, especially early in the morning, and again in the evening. Well I always take any opportunity that presents itself to photograph these elusive birds, so I set off in pursuit, so to speak. They took the opportunity to cross the road and take refuge in the burnt stunted banksias, so I followed. Well actually I would like to have followed, but I was confronted with a 3 metre deep ditch, which I thought I could jump, but decided to look for an easier access point. After much searching, I found a spot and soon found a 'heap' of fieldwrens, many of them running between the tussocks, giving no real chance of photography. As you can see (top left) a single bird took pity on me long enough to get a shot or two. There followed a procession of birds that used the skeletal remains of banksia, teatree and hakea shrubs, as a vantage point to catch flying insects. The female Crescent Honeyeater (pictured top right), alighted close enough for this 'full frame' shot, finally catching a small moth almost off my shoelaces! It was only a few minutes after that encounter that I noticed an orange 'blob', standing out against the burnt teatree some 50 metres away. It was one of those moments that stay in your mind, a quick look through the binoculars, yes! it was a Southern Emu-wren, a bird that you often hope to see in these situations, but seldom do. One of the iconic birds of Tassie's more remote areas. I've seen a good number over the years, and I don't think they're that uncommon in the South West, but they are very elusive, as I was about to find out. I stalked 'them', it transpired that there were 4 or 5 individuals, for sometime, trying to get close enough for a meaningful photograph, and took several record shots as I did. The two images shown here (lower right and left) are all I managed, and that they're even recognisable owes more to the benifits of digital photography, than any skill on my part! Eventually they just disappeared, and although I was quite confident which small piece of scrub they were hiding in, no amount of 'coaxing' drew them out. I guess I'll be revisiting this spot. After all the excitement and concentration, I retraced my steps to the car, realising as I did, that I was heavily covered in charcoal streak marks from the burnt scrub, but thinking that it was a small price to pay for an engaging morning.

On the Move.......Crescent Honeyeater

2008-03-08T15:12:00.008+11:00

I had an interesting visit to the Long Spit at Marion Bay a couple of days ago, but not for the reasons I expected. I had chosen an early morning with a high tide, in the hope of seeing waders and terns. I did indeed see Crested and Caspian Terns, together with the usual Kelp, Pacific and Silver Gulls, but the waders were a bit light on, only recording Pied and Sooty Oystercatchers, and a small number of Hooded Plovers.
As I neared the end of the Spit, and right at the end of the vegetation covered dunes, I heard the unmistakable call of a Crescent Honeyeater, and went to investigate. It's not unusual to find honeyeaters among the wattles almost anywhere in the dunes, but they're much more likely to be New Hollands, but this morning there were only Crescents. Crescent Honeyeaters are usually found during the Summer months, in wetter areas, or at higher elevations, moving into the coastal strips and suburban gardens during Autumn. It will probably be a month or two before they return to my suburban garden, but here they were definitely on the move. I sat in the dune and began to photograph them as they reached the last vestige of bush, and several males called from the top of the low growing wattles, stopping briefly to chase one another or the odd female. While I sat there waiting, I noticed that small groups of two or three birds, were actually crossing the Marion Bay narrows to the wooded area several hundred metres away to the South. I had noticed movements of birds across this 'gap' before, but they were mainly New Hollands, Silvereyes and Eastern Spinebills. These Crescents were probably from the Wielangta Forest, several kilometres away to the North, as they were notably absent there on a recent visit. I've often wondered why these honeyeaters are so vocal during the non breeding season, some males singing from the very tops of trees, seemingly competing in song, with other, equally vociferous, males. Possibly they're claiming rights over feeding territory, as generally speaking, these honeyeaters are not a flocking species. The females are noticeably smaller, and as you may see in the lowest image, sport a much plainer plumage.
During my half hour vigil, perhaps 30 birds left, males outnumbering females, to cross the narrows, all being quickly replaced by other individuals. At one point I thought the 'procession' had finished , but they had seen what I had failed to see, a passing White-breasted Sea Eagle. I had my back to it, but should have been alerted to it by the larger gulls calling loudly, with a few daring to harass it. After a few minutes, the flights resumed, but I had had my fill, and moved on to watch and photograph the Crested Terns, perhaps I'll post more on that later.

Sandspit River Track

2008-03-04T10:23:00.010+11:00

Yesterday, the first half decent day for sometime, saw me heading off for the Wielangta Forest. The weather lately, while not producing much rain, has been blustery and cold--I have to admit to having turned the heater on a couple of times last week, a first for any Tasmanian February that I can recall!
I followed my usual routine, a stop at the picnic area, and then on to the Northern end of the Sandspit River track. This area is fast becoming one of my all time favourites, only soured slightly by being an hour's drive from home.
The stop at the picnic area produced the usual Pink Robin (top left), and I could hear it calling as I opened the car door. I spent 20 minutes or so here, waiting for an opportunity to get a shot and it graciously allowed me to take a few images. While I waited, I watched several passing Tasmanian Thornbills gleaning insects from the underside of leaves, and listened to the calling Strongbilled Honeyeaters high overhead in the towering eucalypts. Having snared my shots of the robin, it was time to take the short drive to the Northern end of the track.
Another Pink Robin greeted me as I parked, which I took as a good omen. It was still fairly cool, but very still, with warmer air from the sunlit patches, wafting over me as I walked. Little stirred over the next 3 or 4 hundred metres, except small groups of Bennett's and Rufous Wallaby scuttling off through the scrub, and the local Kookaburras putting on a noisy show. I moved quickly, deeper into the forested areas.
As I reached the first of the Man Ferns, I heard, and shortly flushed the first of many Green Rosellas, and I could hear a lone Golden Whistler calling. I stopped and listened at a spot that I had previously seen and photographed Scrubtits. I was glad that it was so still, as I soon realised that, right on cue, I could hear a group of Scrubtits feeding in the light scrub 20 or more metres away, and occasionally calling. A little "pishing" (an imitation 'scolding' bird call), saw them approach to a few metres, and I managed a record shot, but no more. A few Tasmanian Scrubwrens put in a wary appearance too, as did several Tasmanian Thornbills. Moving on, 2 Brush Bronzewings momentarily startled me, as they flushed from among the scrub only a few metres away. But it must have been my lucky day, as I shortly found the Brush Bronzewing (pictured), standing mid track, obviously well aware of my presence, but staying long enough to get a few shots in, before it too, flushed, with much 'clapping' of wings. I was to find several more during the course of the walk, probably totaling a dozen or more, quite the most I've seen in one area, for some years. Another stop for a glimpse of Scrubtits, more "pishing", but this time I only got a response from a lone Olive Whistler. It came and had a look at me fr
om among the dense scrub, and obviously unimpressed with what it saw, disappeared back into the bush! The next highlight was the sight of the first of several Bassian Thrushes, feeding along the track,
culminating in one that allowed sufficiently close approach for some shots. In fact the individual pictured, instead of scurrying off into the scrub, actually chose to run toward me for a closer inspection (obviously a bird with taste!).
With increasing cloud cover, and with a forecast of rain, I thought it prudent to retrace my steps to the car. It had been a great morning, and I had managed a few shots of species that are among the more difficult to photograph. The amount of light penetrating the forest here is low, and all the shots were taken at speeds of less than 1/50th of a second, with a telephoto lens. Those with photographic knowledge will know that is 'pushing your luck' and indeed many of the shots suffered accordingly, but I got away with the few shown here. A recommended walk on suitable days.