August 3rd, 2011

Boat Harbour send off

WELL, IT WAS very miserable taking my last looks at those little Red-necked Stints and the cormorants and the gulls and terns of Boat Harbour today as I wrapped up my role in the survey project. Walking down the trail to the beach, my old friend the Australian Kestrel was there, just as he has been every week these past 5 or 6 years, but this time to say farewell. The pipits and cisticolas were there in force and the fairy-wrens were all very active too, bobbing about in the newly regenerated acacia scrub. I sensed that they had a mood of celebration as the breeding season approaches. Just to confirm the coming breeding season, the aural backdrop was filled with much trilling from the growing number of Fan-tailed Cuckoos making their ominous presence felt – I had a very nice view of one sitting on a fenceline when driving in to the top car park.

I’m a pretty sentimental soul, so after putting almost 6 years of weekly surveys behind me – six years of relishing the story of the migratory shorebirds of Boat Harbour and the many wonderful wildlife encounters there . . . six years of amazing observations, such as the most northerly record of a King Penguin in Australian waters or the amazing out of phase Sanderling in full breeding plumage in an Australian high summer – hanging up the data sheets was always going to be hard. Whilst concluding my count today a large pod of dolphins frolicked just off the back of the reef as if to remind me what a wonderful job I was leaving behind. Perhaps they were trying to say “so long and thanks for all the fish” I felt like I was trudging up some steps to a gallows as I walked up the beach and onto the big dune for the last time. As I got a bit of height on the dune, I turned for a last look. I could just see a little further around the beach at this point and then, what should I spy on the shoreline but a beautiful roost of 15 Red-necked Avocets. A stunning first for me at Boat Harbour!

My spirits were lifted considerably as I dashed across the sand in the sunshine, focussed the scope on them and soaked in the beauty and fascinating behaviour of these birds for a good half hour. What a stunning species they are, with their gorgeous deep chestnut plumage on their head and neck which is so brilliantly set off by the black and white plumage on the remainder of their bodies. Their easy, almost floating flight and gentle jostling as they settle again on the shoreline is a vision of pure loveliness. Their foraging behaviour of “mowing” – sweeping their beautifully recurved bill from side to side in the shallows – is not only delightful to behold but a powerful reminder of the almost endless solutions which shorebirds have hit upon in order to secure a niche for themselves among the wetland species. Their long, grey-green legs complete a statement of pure elegance of the sort which defeats even the best works of the Art Deco masters.

Avocet Taxonomy

ALONG WITH the Banded Stilt and Black-winged Stilt, Red-necked Avocets are a member of the Recurvirostridae sub-family which, according to genetic studies, places them in one of the three major shorebird families, the Charadriidae, or plovers. This is interesting, as these birds, with their long legs, necks and bills, all look much more like their distant cousins the sandpipers than their more closely related plovers, who all possess stumpy bills, short necks and relatively shorter legs. It all reflects the system of punishment and reward that is what we see demonstrated in the patterns of diversity and abundance all around us. If any character trait that an individual possess is successful, it will be rewarded with replication. If not, then it’s less likely to become widespread. Successful formulas are hit on again and again as each individual struggles within an ecological community to carve a place for itself amid the competition for limited resources. Thus we see quite unrelated species of life bearing strong similarities when faced with the same or similar circumstances.

A little closure

After this gorgeous encounter, I set off feeling much more reconciled with the past and happier and optimistic about the new chapters of birdy adventures that lie before me. On the last day of almost 6 years of surveys (totaling 428 in all), that I could have a stunning first like this served as a big reminder that the unexpected will always happen when out in nature, so I should look forward to more adventures ahead rather than feeling sad about what’s behind. It’s true to say that if you really love nature, wherever you are there’s going to be something to relish, something to wonder over and something to satisfy that deep need in us all to connect with something much greater.

Until next time . . . happy birding!

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