July 31st, 2011

A Chapter Ends . . .

EVER SINCE returning to Sydney from Broome in 2005 I have been threatening to move up to the NSW north coast. As the time comes to make good my threat, to make that move to peaceful Tyalgum, west of Murwillumbah, I am reflecting on what I have achieved in the past 5 or 6 years of residence in Sydney. Certainly, I have led many birding tours for nature lovers from all over the world, I’ve led many courses and workshops on shorebirds and bush birds, enjoyed Sydney’s best National Parks to the max and given dozens of presentations on birds to various community groups. I hope that I’ve helped to boost the enjoyment of nature and birding aspirations for many. I’ve been fortunate enough to have introduced a number of people to what will hopefully become a lifelong obsession . . . and, of course, I’ve completely indulged in my hobby of Butterfly photography! I can’t ask for much more than the privilege to do these things and I am grateful to all who have given me the opportunity to do so. But now it’s time to say farewell and quickly take stock of two special projects . . .

During my time in Sydney, I’ve conducted a number of surveys and studies of everything from bush birds broadly and fairy-wrens particularly to Ospreys and even Little Penguins! However, those projects which I have invested the most of myself in have been the establishment of the Long Reef migratory shorebird monitoring team and my sub-contracted weekly participation in shorebird monitoring which covers all the prime shorebird locations in Sydney, the Central Coast and the Hunter region. This second project having been established to determine if the construction and running of the Port Botany container terminal expansion is impacting on the lives of the shorebirds of the region.

Long Reef . . . a revelation!

THE SHOREBIRD monitoring project at Long Reef was established at the end of 2006 in recognition of the complete lack of regular data collected at a site which was, at the time, not considered worthy of a regular effort and the threats from disturbance which it was clearly subjected to.

Since establishing regular, monthly counts on the reef we have determined that the site is of great importance regionally. The counts have also given further impetus to the recognition of the value of rocky headlands and smaller wetlands as part of a matrix of sites which support the dispersal of migratory shorebirds across the continent post southward migration.

The shorebird species list has been impressive:

• Bar-tailed Godwit
• Eastern Curlew
• Whimbrel
• Grey-tailed Tattler
• Wandering Tattler
• Ruddy Turnstone
• Red Knot
• Sanderling
• Red-necked Stint
• Sharp-tailed Sandpiper
• Curlew Sandpiper
• Sooty Oystercatcher (non-migratory)
• Pacific Golden Plover
• Red-capped Plover (non-migratory)
• Double-banded Plover
• Lesser Sand Plover
• Greater Sand Plover

On one day alone in November 2009, I encountered:

• Bar-tailed Godwit
• Eastern Curlew
• Grey-tailed Tattler
• Ruddy Turnstone
• Red Knot
• Sanderling
• Red-necked Stint
• Sharp-tailed Sandpiper
• Curlew Sandpiper
• Sooty Oystercatcher (non-migratory)
• Pacific Golden Plover
• Lesser Sand Plover
• Greater Sand Plover

Making the site surely one of the most diverse on the temperate part of the continent for that one day.

A FEW DAYS later, November 22, I had what might be my oddest encounter on that reef: a Double-banded Plover in non-breeding plumage. Given that the entire population was meant to be in New Zealand breeding I can only say that nothing is ever  a certainty when you’re talking about birds!

We observed some odd fluctuations in the numbers of some species, particularly Red-necked Stints and particularly in the late Autumn – early Winter, which perhaps indicates that when conditions get particularly cool further south, the 1 and 2 year old birds migrate a little northward to sites like Long Reef.

Ultimately, the data collected at Long Reef will contribute to our knowledge on a national and regional scale as it forms part of our broader understanding on the patterns of diversity and abundance in the region. We also hope it will become part of the collective effort to save these birds from the abyss of extinction, which will surely take place if we don’t change our ways and communicate the needs for action in China. In 2010 I moved away from the Northern Beaches and handed this project onto an enthusiastic and knowledgeable colleague, Eduardo Gallo, so the project is in safe hands. Visit the Long Reef Waders site to find out more.

My beloved Boat Harbour

MY ALMOST 6 year stint (no pun intended) of weekly shorebird surveys on Boat Harbour has been become such a part of me that it’s certainly been the hardest thing to let go of as I prepare to move north. Friends and family I can still communicate with, but to lose my weekly rhythm, my weekly journeys to this small rocky headland is like losing an integral part of my identity. I grew up on the adjacent beaches of Bate Bay: Eloura, South Cronulla and Wanda. I still have those visions of lazy Sunday Summer walks on Wanda Beach in the late 1960′s where I’d see  those tiny stints, sanderling and plovers in quite large numbers dashing up and down the beaches as the low tide wavelets would expose the sand worms and other invertebrates which they would be feasting on. Of course, times have changed and their numbers are greatly reduced, with the birds now confined to the mists of my memory and much smaller numbers on the reef at Boat Harbour . . .

Since late 2006, in all kinds of weather – freezing, windy, rainy, hot, humid and all manner of combinations thereof, I have immersed myself in the lives of the birds on this headland and savoured so many moments that only a naturalist whose pulse is quickened at what others may miss or consider unremarkable can do. Every visit has been a joy but now, as it all comes to an end, I can’t let go without relating a few special moments. I could have picked many, but here’s three:

Great Knots on Boat Harbour

GREAT KNOTS are one of the most abundant shorebird species which visit Australia. Like their cousins, the Red Knots, Great Knots not only possess all of the wonderful physiological traits which enable them to fly non-stop for more than a week at speeds up to 110 kph but they possess the extraordinary ability to “see”  with their bills beneath the mud and sand substrates where they forage for their favoured prey – tiny bivalves (more on this in a future post).

When I was Warden of the Broome Bird Observatory, Great Knots were a big part of my experience of that truly magical place. I had been sorely missing their presence for some years after coming to Sydney until one day on Boat Harbour, there were two of them joining the other regular species at a high tide roost. Rocky headlands are not the sort of sites where you would expect to find this species on a regular basis as their bills are far better equipped for probing mud rather than gleaning off the surface. However, research by Danny Rogers (Scientific Advisor to the Australasian Wader Studies Group) indicates that these birds go through a 3 or 4 year learning curve where they go from surface gleaners to mud probers. I concluded that it was likely therefore, that we had a couple of younger birds who had, for some reason, come across from nearby Botany Bay where a small number of these birds stay each Austral Summer.

It was truly exhilarating to be there for this rare encounter and one which I was to only replicate a week or two later in all 6 years that I have conducted these surveys.

Out of phase Sanderling

SANDERLING ARE KNOWN to science as Calidris alba, meaning that they’re white sandpipers. This is true for anybody who encounters these small shorebirds during the Australian Summer, when they’re sporting their clean white “Winter” plumage. In all my life, this is the only way that I’ve known Sanderling, so it was a great surprise to one day begin a survey on Boat Harbour reef and encounter this odd, small shorebird covered in speckles and flecks of what appeared to be breeding plumage . . . full breeding plumage!

I spent some time trying to sort out what this species may be, all the time thinking “What species of shorebird has a bill like a Sanderling?”. Finally the penny dropped . . . “A Sanderling!”. Once I realised that this was a Sanderling in full breeding plumage, I knew that I had something very special in front of me. Fortunately, there was another Sanderling present, in full “Winter” plumage and I was able to take some comparison images to document this extraordinary event. Somehow or other this bird had gone out of phase with its breeding plumage. I believe that this can happen to birds who “overwinter” (resist the urge to migrate) for too many years.

Now, reflecting back on that warm Summer day in 2008 I can still recall how this encounter brought home to me something very powerful in the lives of these amazing birds: that here was a bird dressed in the kind of finery that is only ever witnessed in the High Arctic wilderness and the 14,000 km distant island of New Siberia (which is probably as bleak as it sounds), where these incredible birds make their annual journey to breed. It brought home to me the immensity of their annual journey in a way that nothing else ever had before or since: here was evidence that these birds actually do this, that this bird would be perfectly camouflaged sitting on eggs in the low, windswept vegetation which comprises the tundra of that far distant realm. It brought home the wonder of this world which has shaped these extraordinary creatures and of the incredible good fortune that we find ourselves to be alive to witness and take account of these things.

That “American” Golden Plover

I HAD BEEN observing the odd-looking Pacific Golden Plover among the cohort of plovers on Boat Harbour reef for some months and had on more than one occasion considered that this bird might be part of that transition of the population of the neighbouring Pacific Golden Plover and American Golden Plover populations in north and western Alaska. I’d considered taking this up with Phil Straw, who is overseeing the monitoring project, but then again you do get odd plumages among birds from time to time. I’d let it go until later in the season . . .

As Summer turned to Autumn, the Pacific Golden Plovers began to come into their breeding plumage, ready for departure to far distant Alaska. Now, our odd-looking individual was really starting to stand out: enough so that it attracted the attention of a photographer whose images indicated that the legs of the bird did not extend beyond the tail. This is one of the diagnostic features of comparison that indicates this species may be an American Golden Plover. One post to the email list “Birding-Aus” and the rush was on. On my next visit to Boat Harbour I was greeted by one of the employees of the company which controls the road to reef. He joyously recounted that “Hundreds of twitchers” had been visiting the reef all week: they were making a fortune! As I arrived on the sand I encountered at least ten birders all bristling with long camera lenses. Some had even erected beach tents, to set up camp for the day. I was accompanied by American Golden Plover aficionado, Alan McBride.

After some hour of study of this bird we concluded that it didn’t have all the features of an American Golden Plover. However, this didn’t stop everybody joyfully ticking off the bird and its addition to the Australian records for visitations by this species in the annals of the Birds Australia database. I went with Alan’s more sober judgement and concluded as per my original thoughts, that this bird was either a hybrid or part of that transitional population which surely must exist between two species which have only in recent years been split. Either way, it was thought provoking yet again to witness yet another part of the story of these wonderful creatures on this generally quiet little rocky headland.

The thick and the thin

I CAN’T GO without saying that there’s been some very sad moments for me on Boat Harbour too, such as having to put down a Silver Gull with a broken wing or arriving one morning in 2010 to find more than 500 dead and dying, beach washed Short-tailed Shearwaters on the sands surrounding the reef. Regularly in the Summer, I’ve witnessed the increasing patterns of human disturbance which has caused the great drop in the shorebird population of this area and looks set to continue to do so. It’s both exasperating and depressing in the extreme to be helpless in the face of the selfishness that pervades the local community in this respect. Despite these times, through it all, the thick and the thin, has been the exhilaration and privilege of contemplating and observing the forces which drive the patterns of diversity and abundance of these species, what has shaped them and will continue to shape them in the eons ahead of us. It’s been a marvelous thing to have observed in such a manner the lives of the birds which live on and around the reef and to hitch a ride on their experiences of life for a few short years. For now, however, it’s time to say farewell and hopefully move on to other wonderful experiences in another part of Australia as I continue my journey through this fascinating thing I call a life.

 

Previous page »