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.