NORDMANN'S GREENSHANK

 I've just been to Cairns and ticked the Nordmann's Greenshank!  

View from Cairns Esplanade

This is a bird I never expected to see in my lifetime.  It is wonderful to chase a bird, to study it, to work out where and when to go to see it, then, perhaps after years of failed attempts, finally to succeed.  But it is sometimes just as good to come across a bird quite by accident, as I did with the Glossy Black Cockatoo in Cranbourne recently.  However, there is a lot to be said for the successful twitch.  Someone finds a rarity and is generous enough to share it.  You pack your bags and, often with a deal of effort (and expense) you arrive at its destination, often a long, long way from home.  Will it still be there?  Will you have spent your time, effort and money in vain?  Or will all your stress and struggles be rewarded?  Oh, there's nothing quite like the adrenalin rush of success.

I did not race to Cairns immediately when the Nordmann's Greenshank was reported.  I waited until I thought my long trip would be rewarded.  When my friend, Ken, said he was driving to Cairns from Melbourne and that he'd ring me when he'd arrived and found the bird, I couldn't wait to hear from him, to know that the bird was there and tickable, to fly up and join him and have him point out my bird.  What an easy tick, I thought.  The bird had been there for months.  It would surely wait a few more days for me.  

I kept hearing stories of people who had missed the bird by a day, last year when it disappeared in May.  One birder reported missing the bird twice before being successful at last.  I really didn't want to fly to Cairns and dip.

Ken rang on Friday.  Yes, he'd arrived.  Yes, he'd seen the bird.

I couldn't wait.  I flew up on Monday and Ken met me at the airport.  Well, yes, he had seen the bird last Friday, but he hadn't seen it since.  He'd looked of course, but the bird had not shown itself again.  My heart fell.  Ken said that he'd done his best.  He had not been assisted by a large and noisy demonstration along the Cairns Esplanade on Saturday or by people walking their dog along the sand.

Ken and I walked up and down the Esplanade.  We examined every wader in sight.  We saw gotwits and knots, sand plovers and tattlers, a couple of Far Eastern Curlews and one single Terek Sandpiper.  An Eastern Osprey flew overhead.  Then a Black-necked Stork flapped by.  Normally this would be cause for celebration, but I was not in celebratory mood.  I thought I'd done everything to make this twitch foolproof.  I hadn't rushed off without thinking, I had bided my time and waited until I thought I was sure to see my bird.  I was in a grump.  A helpful local birder wanted to point out some Nankeen Night Herons and the northern race of Masked Lapwings.  Who was he kidding?  I hadn't flown to Cairns to see herons or plovers.  There was only one bird I wanted to see.

By Tuesday morning, my mood had changed.  I knew I'd be back in Cairns later in the year, and I could look again for the greenshank.  Meanwhile, I decided to enjoy my short stay and see as many birds as I could.  No sooner had I resigned myself to not seeing the bird, than it appeared!

Ken and I saw it amongst a group of waders, looking just as the text books had described, although I confess I found great difficulty in seeing the two-toned bill and the partially webbed toes.  We had a good inspection and convinced ourselves we had our identification correct.  A local birder came along to confirm what we already knew:  we had our bird.  Hooray!

We drank him in and enjoyed our success.  We congratulated each other as if we were the world's best birders.  We had succeeded where others had failed.  We basked in our superiority.  I no longer own a camera, but here's the best my phone could do.  He's the third on the left. And now here's what a professional can do. These photos were taken by Ken Haines.

GLOSSY BLACK COCKATOO IN CRANBOURNE!

 If you'd asked me last week where in Victoria to go to see a Glossy Black Cockatoo, I'd have said that you should go to Gipsy Point or Mallacoota.  I'd still say that.  However, last Friday, I saw one at Cranbourne Botanic Gardens, about 400 kilometres west of their accepted range.

Glossy Black Cockatoo, photo by Graham Barwell

On our way home from Toora, basking in our successful Hudsonian Whimbrel twitch, Graham Barwell and I decided on a short birding stopover at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Cranbourne.  These gardens just squeak into the 100 best birdwatching  sites in Australia, coming in at number 98.  We were there for just a couple of hours, and recorded just 20 species.  Sadly, we did not see any bandicoots.

But, who's complaining?  We saw something far more exciting than a bandicoot.  At the junction of Trig Track and Possum Gully Walk, we saw this handsome male Glossy Black Cockatoo.  We tried to identify the species of casuarina he was enjoying, and the best we could do (let's be honest, the best Graham could do, I can take no credit) was that it was either Casurarina paludosa or C. pusilla.  Neither of these plants is mentioned in HANZAB as a food source for Glossy Black Cockatoos, which is possibly explained by the fact that the bird was 400 kilometres outside his range.

I had heard that some Glossy Black Cockatoos were displaced by the bushfires in Mallacoota and had been seen in Victoria, but I confess I was a little sceptical.  Not that they'd been seen in Victoria, but that they were still here.  I figured if the fires had forced them to fly west, that when it came time for them to migrate north, they would just fly north, whether from Mallacoota, or from central Victoria.  Apparently I was wrong.  The fires were in the summer of 2019/2020, more than two years ago.  Evidently, the birds were so stressed by their bushfire displacement (or they found some irresistible new delicious casurarina to eat) that they decided to stay put.  And who can blame them?  I don't know how many Glossy Blacks ventured west, but I'm told that just three or four remain.  As far as we could tell, this fellow was by himself.

Other birds we recorded included a couple of raptors (Brown Goshawk, Peregrine Falcon), some honeyeaters (Eastern Spinebill, New Holland, White-eared, White-plumed and Red and Little Wattlebirds), some very fine Common Bronzewings and some Red-browed Finches (which, I fear, are becoming rarer around Melbourne).  But nothing quite got our hearts pumping like this beautiful Glossy Black Cockatoo.

TOORA AGAIN

 An interstate friend had tried once for the Hudsonian Whimbrel and failed, and decided to try again.  I was delighted for an excuse to get the bird onto my 2022 list, so grabbed at the opportunity to accompany him to Toora.  The best thing about this was, he did all the homework.  He studied the tide times and booked the motel.  All I had to do was to tag along.  I picked him up at Avalon airport and we had a pleasant drive down to Gippsland.

One of the best things about a twitch is the interesting birders you meet at the site.  There are usually people you know and haven't seen for years, people you've heard of and always wanted to meet, and other, new birders, each with their own tales to tell.  In fact, I met one of my best birding companions at a twitch:  PJ.  I met him at Lake Tutchewop in November 2014, where we rewarded with the Long-billed Dowitcher on our second drive up from Melbourne.  PJ and I had some wonderful twitches together after that, including the South Island Oystercatcher and the Aleutian Tern.

On this occasion, there were several fascinating birders in the Toora birdhide, waiting for the whimbrel to appear.  There was a young Kiwi who had packed in his job, and planned to spend a year travelling and birding Australia.  What an adventure!  And there were several local birders from Foster, all with memorable birdy anecdotes.  We happily whiled away the time until a flock of whimbrels appeared.

View from Toora birdhide

We had compiled a short birdlist before the whimbrels put in their appearance.  We were entertained by a White-bellied Sea Eagle and both Sooty and Pied Oystercatchers.  There were several Pacific Gulls, in immaculate plumage.  Best of all were two Caspian Terns with their youngster.  And there were several small passerines hopping around amongst the mangroves:  fairywrens, fantails, Silvereyes and Brown Thornbills.  Forest Ravens flew by, helpfully calling to ensure they were noticed.  

Then, at last, eight whimbrels flew in.  One of the locals informed us that the previous afternoon, there had been a flock of eight whimbrels, which comprised seven Eurasian Whimbrels plus the much desired Hudsonian.  Needless to say, the whimbrels had our full attention.  Scopes were focused.  Chatter ceased.  It didn't take long.

The cry went up.  'Third from the left!'  Great excitement!  We all noted the more obvious white eyebrow, the slightly different shaped bill, and slightly larger size.  Later, we were to observe the darker tail and underwings.

A successful twitch is always cause for celebration, and a twitch that succeeds on the second attempt has twice the reason to rejoice.  A bottle of bubby at the Foster pub was duly appreciated.

BIRDING THE MORNINGTON PENINSULA

Yesterday morning, I birded the Mornington Peninsula, ending up with 72 species, which wasn't bad given the grey skies and sporadic rain.  The highlight was an unexpected Bassian Thrush which I saw at Balbirooroo Wetlands in Balnarring.

I started at West Heads in Flinders, watching a Black-shouldered Kite attack a White-bellied Sea Eagle.  Three Sooty Oystercatchers landed on the shore below and immediately disappeared amongst the rocks.  The next noteworthy sighting was an Australian Hobby struggling against the wind.  

Driving back towards the township, lots of Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos had fun making a mess, leaving a carpet of dropped cones and twigs beneath the pine trees.  A couple of currawongs confused me; I initially thought they were Grey, but on closer inspection, they turned out to be my 'normal' Pied.

I expected some good waterbirds at Balbirooroo Wetlands, but, surprisingly, the best birds were all bush birds.  There were literally dozens of Grey Fantails.  (Lovely photo above my Ken Haines, who wasn't there!)  I never get sick of them.  There were both male and female Australian Golden Whistlers, several White-browed Scrubwren and Superb Fairywren, Spotted Pardalote and Brown Thornbill.  A (or perhaps more than one) Horsfield's Bronze Cuckoo drove me mad, calling from a distance, but not showing himself.  I could picture him, hiding behind a branch, giggling and poking his tongue out at me.  Finally, he flew down to gloat, and I had satisfactory views.  Despite many flowering eucalypts, my honeyeater list was not huge:  White-plumed, New Holland and White-eared, as well as the inevitable Noisy Miners and Red and Little Wattlebirds.  As I say, the waterbirds did not dominate.  There were swans, moorhens, coots, cormorants, Australasian Grebes, Pacific Black Ducks and I did manage to add a Black-fronted Dotterel to the list.

Then it was on to the Langwarrin Flora and Fauna Reserve, where I had heard that Glossy Black Cockatoos had been seen.  Sadly, not by me.  There were few casuarinas, so I wasn't sure where to look.  This was a pleasant spot, but I didn't add much to my list.

Last stop was the Boundary Road Wetlands (above), opposite the Frankston Clay Target Club, quite a noisy neighbour.  Here there were quite a few waders, many of them colouring up beautifully.  They were 98% Sharp-tailed Sandpipers, with just a handful of Curlew Sandpipers and Red-necked Stints to keep me on my toes.  There were more dotterels here, too, and both Royal and Yellow-billed Spoonbills.  A few Pied Stilts, a couple of pelicans and some duck, mainly Chestnut Teal, but also just enough Grey Teal sprinkled among them to make sure I had a good look.  A Swamp Harrier took pleasure in disrupting this peaceful scene, but luckily, having had his fun, he disappeared.

I reckon over 70 species for a morning's work is quite satisfactory, especially when it includes a Bassian Thrush, and a few of my favourites like black cockies and White-eared Honeyeaters.