All Change at Ralph's Bay

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.