A WEEK IN THE TERRITORY AND JUST SEVEN SUBSPECIES TO FIND

After my 100% success on Melville Island, I arrived back in Darwin expecting the same in the Territory. I'm not sure how many times I've been to the Northern Territory. I do know that my first visit was in 1982, when Rog and I drove from Perth to Darwin - a memorable trip. I know we visited Alice Springs some time last century. I know I failed to see a White-throated Grasswren in 2009, but I did see a Swinhoe's Snipe in 2022 and a Northern Shriketit in 2023, and I did a Central Australia tour with Bellbird in 2025. I'm sure there have been other trips too. Despite all these trips, and notwithstanding the three mainland subspecies I'd seen on Melville, there were still another seven subspecies found in the Northern Territory that I had never seen. I had seven days. Surely I could see seven birds! What I didn't consider was that these were probably the Territory's hardest birds, given that I hadn't seen them on any previous visit. First, I looked for the King Quail. It has been seen in several spots, but never regularly or frequently.

I wandered through appropriate grassy habitat at Holmes Jungle for what seemed like hours. I looked at Knuckey's Lagoons for quite some time too. Here I did pick up a Singing Bush Lark, race solderbergi. There are nine subspecies of Singing Bush Lark in Australia. Now I have seen seven of them. But, I did not glimpse a King Quail. I started the next day again looking for King Quail, but I confess, they defeated me. On to Kakadu, where I had a cabin at Jabiru. I could hardly wait until it was dark and I could look for Australian Masked Owl. Because I'd seen the Tiwi Masked Owl relatively easily, and because I'd always expected the Kakadu bird to be easier than the Melville Island one, I expected to get this. However, it was not to be. It was a warm night and there were several snakes about. Also, lots of various bats and one large legless lizard. But no Masked Owls. I had reluctantly decided that I probably couldn't get to the spot where Yellow Chat (race tunneyi) is seen, so my seven target subspecies was reduced to three. I did give the owl one last chance, but he simply wasn't interested in showing himself. I had great hopes for a White-quilled Rock Pigeon up the Escarpment Walk in Gregory National Park, and there were still two fairywrens I was hoping for. Still in Kakadu, I clambered up Nourlangie Rock very early the next morning, hoping for a Purple-backed Fairywren. This is race dulcis, sometimes called the Lavender-flanked Fairywren. I had a most engaging encounter with a Chestnut-quilled Rock Pigeon, and informed him that I had an appointment with his white-quilled cousin in a couple of days' time. But the arduous climb up the rocks was for nothing. As soon as I returned back down the track, there was a fairywren in the foliage. Yes, it was my Lavender-flanked! At least I'd seen two of my seven. I thought the female looked very like a female Lovely Fairywren, which (shame on me for not knowing!) I hadn't been expecting. Here's me looking for Purple-backed Fairywren.

I enjoyed a very pleasant walk around Anabangbang Billabong, which would have been better had the track not been pock marked by water buffalo. The next morning, we had an early start, and saw our only Northern Bandicoot and an orange bat in the dark. Our destination was Victoria River. I was going to attempt the Escarpment Walk at Gregory National Park, in the hope of seeing my White-quilled Rock Pigeon. And attempt it I did. But I'm afraid I didn't make it. Somehow, with help, I got to the first ridge line. I heard Pheasant Coucals making their 'whoop, whoop, whoop' call, but there were few birds to distract me from what I thought was vertical rock climbing. I did not enjoy it. And there were no rock pigeons.

So I dipped on the quail, the owl and the rock pigeon and had given up on the chat. My only successes were the Singing Bush Lark and the Lavender-flanked Fairywren. I was feeling a tad disappointed. However, I did add Purple-crowned Fairywren race coronatus to my list, very easily at Victoria River Crossing. There is a large sign there illustrating the fairywren, so it is obviously a reliable spot for them. On the way back to Darwin the next day, I saw Hooded Parrots at Pine Creek and two beautiful Rainbow Pitta at Adelaide River. I'm pleased to report that I came home celebrating my Melville Island success, and tried to forget my dismal record in the Territory.

MELVILLE ISLAND

Melville Island does not spring to mind as one of Australia's premier birding sites. It doesn't even feature as a major Northern Territory site. And yet I've just enjoyed a few days of most rewarding birding there. I came home with 83 species on my Melville Island list. In fact, there are nine subspecies you cannot find anywhere else in the world. That's what I went there to see. And I saw them all.

I flew to Darwin on Saturday, took the ferry to Melville Island on Sunday, then the bus to Milikapiti where I was staying, arriving at 2.30. Even in August, it's too hot for birding in the middle of the day, but later that afternoon I ticked seven of the nine endemic subspecies. That night I went looking for the Tiwi Masked Owl, but didn't see it. The next day I saw the last diurnal subspecies and that night (much to my surprise) I saw the owl. All nine subspecies in less than 36 hours! I also picked up three other Northern Territory subspecies, not exclusive to the Tiwi Islands, that I'd never seen before. To my eye, most of the subspecies didn't look any different from their mainland counterparts. The order I saw the birds in was: (1) Brown Honeyeater - common, easily seen; (2) White-bellied Cuckooshrike - also very numerous and easily seen; (3) Yellow-tinted Honeyeater, not quite so common, I didn't see it every day I was on the island, yet I saw it easily and it looked like our mainland Yellow-tinted; (4) Striated Pardalote - vocal and easily seen, but visibly different with black on its face, altogether very colourful with a very stubby bill; (5) Green Oriole - loud and obvious (but there were also plenty of Olive-backed Orioles), it looked like other Green Orioles to me; (6) Rufous Whistler - male looked and sounded the same as mainland birds, but the female was very different: more colourful underparts with many fewer striations, very light streaking on her throat only. The last diurnal passerine (7) the Singing Bush Lark was easily seen, but not widespread, and looked quite indistinguishable from other bush larks to me. This is Bush Lark terrain.

After one night looking unsuccessfully for the owl, I didn't really expect to see it on the second night. But there it was! Unfortunately, it didn't hang around to have its photo taken. There were lots of birds on Melville, but there were only three species that I saw every day of my five day stay. They were: Bar-shouldered Dove, Whistling Kite and Torresian Crow. After Melville Island, I turned my mind to the mainland where I hoped to pick up a further seven subspecies new to me. I'd seen Helmeted Friarbird, Singing Honeyeater and the Silver-backed Butcherbird already on Melville. I wasn't quite so lucky on the mainland.

SWIFT PARROTS AT PLENTY GORGE

On Sunday, it was my intention to go weeding beside the Yarra with the Friends of Burke Road Billabong, but when I was invited to go looking for Swift Parrots at Plenty Gorge, there was no contest. I didn't have to consider my options. I was going looking for Swift Parrots. (Sorry, Stan.) I've only been to Plenty Gorge a couple of times, and I don't know the best birding spots, so I was very pleased to be shown. This is a huge area of beautiful bush, very close to Melbourne, and I was extremely happy for the opportunity to explore a bit of it. The first bird we saw on arrival was a Kookaburra, always a good start. It was cold and grey as we set off, but there were several species of eucalypt flowering profusely, so I thought we'd see some good honeyeaters if nothing else. The trees were covered in blossom, but the only birds loudly making their presence felt were Rainbow Lorikeets and Red Wattlebirds. My birdlist grew slowly as we wandered along. It was very pleasant, but there were no Swift Parrots. There were Galahs and Magpies and Eastern Rosellas, some white cockies and a few Maned Duck. Then we saw a gorgeous Spotted Pardalote and Peter Petinatos took this beautiful photo.

Suddenly I didn't care quite so much whether or not we saw any Swift Parrots. The pardalote was absolutely breathtaking. We saw a female Australian Golden Whistler and a Black-faced Cuckooshrike, but my birdlist was growing very slowly. Contrary to my expectations, the only honeyeater we saw (apart from the wattlebirds) was Yellow-faced. With so much blossom, that was a bit surprising. We walked quite a way (I'd done 22,000 steps at the end of the morning). Then, suddenly, there they were: Swift Parrots. About 20 of them, I reckon, high in the canopy. I'm not sure now who saw them first - it certainly wasn't me! They were in the top of the canopy, making photographers and birdwatchers alike crane their necks uncomfortably. Here's proof, again from Pete Petinatos.

There's no doubt they are very pretty parrots. We'd love them even if they weren't rare and endangered. Their annual migration across Bass Strait is impressive and they are always exciting to see. I had a great day and I didn't miss weeding at all!

LLOYD NEILSEN'S 'HERBERTON HONEYEATER'

I returned from my spontaneous trip to Geraldton to twitch the Black-headed Gull, in time for my planned trip to the Atherton Tableland in quest of Lloyd Nielsen's so-called 'Herberton Honeyeater,' and the undescribed race of Spotted Quail-thrush. I thought the honeyeater would be easy, but the quail-thrush might prove elusive. I was right on both counts. The honeyeater is recognised as race 'subgermanus' of the Fuscous Honeyeater, but it looks significantly different from other Fuscous Honeyeaters and Lloyd was of the opinion that it deserved species status. Apparently many birders mistakenly write it down as a Yellow-tinted Honeyeater, because it has such a yellow face. It is common and easily seen along Springvale Road in Wondecla State Forest.

The birding was most enjoyable along this road and I added another couple of new subspecies to my lifelist: Spotted Pardalote race 'militaris' and White-throated Treecreeper ('Little' Treecreeper) race 'minor'.

I also found some difficult steep gravel roads to explore hoping for quail-thrush. I didn't detect any hint of quail-thrush but I didn't fall over either, so it was a partial success. The next day I looked again for quail-thrush (and again didn't fall over) and easily added Crimson Rosella race 'nigrescens' (aka Tropical Crimson Rosella) to my lifelist. Despite unfriendly weather, at Mt Hypipamee I saw a female Golden Bowerbird, an Eastern Whipbird, several Grey-headed Robins and a Mountain Thornbill, but couldn't find the local race of Australian Rufous Fantail.

I saw the only Satin Bowerbird of the trip in Ravenshoe. There were dozens of Scaly-breasted Lorikeets throughout the trip, seemingly everywhere we went. At Allumbah Pocket in Yungaburra, we saw three platypus and had the most wonderful birding of the trip. Not only did I finally see my desired Rufous Fantail (race 'intermedia'), I saw Paradise Riflebird, Little Shirkethrush, Spotted Catbird, Silvereyes and Fairy Gerygones all within an entertaining short distance of each other. The weather was generally unkind thoughout the trip; misty and drizzly but, worst of all, very windy. This made looking for quail-thrush plus a couple of thornbills I'd hoped to see, all the more difficult. I did hear the quail-thrush call once, not far from Watsonville, but that's as close as I came to it. I visited Hasties Swamp where I was greeted by a couple of Brown Cuckoo Doves as well as the requisite Plumed Whistling Ducks. However, the mammals were more memorable - there was an eastern bent wing bat in the hide and a couple of platypus playing below. I spent the rest of the day looking for, but not finding, quail-thrush, yellow thornbill (race 'flava') and Buff-rumped Thronbill (race 'squamata'). The White-browed Scrubwren I saw in Kaban State Forest looked more like a Yellow-throated Scrubwren without a yellow throat, than the White-browed Scrubwren I'm used to in Melbourne.

I started Thursday admiring a Singing Bush Lark (race 'athertonensis') at Yorkeys Knob. Other highlights included a Black Butcherbird, a noisy Green Oriole, several colourful Sahul Sunbirds and a flock of Topknot Pigeons flying overhead. At Redden Island I saw Helmeted Friarbird, that we used to call Hornbill Friarbird, and will again one day I hope. At Marshall's Field one Yellow Honeyeater drew attention to himself and then we made a quick visit to the Cairns Esplanade for Varied Honeyeater and Little Heron. At the Botanic Gardens I was delighted to see a pair of Radjah Shelducks, a Pacific Baza and a Grey Goshawk, but disappointed I dipped on Little Kingfisher and Rufous Owl. I came home with a total of 138 species for the four day trip, which included six new subspecies for me, most importantly Lloyd's race of Fuscous Honeyeater he dubbed the Herberton Honeyeater. The elusive quail-thrush remains just that: elusive.

BLACK-HEADED GULL

I am delighted to see any lifer of course, and any new Australian bird outside my annual pilgrimage to Cocos/Christmas is especially welcomed. If I can achieve one in a year, I am pleased. This year, 2026, I've seen an impressive four, and the year's not yet half over. I saw the Indian Pond Heron and Arctic Warbler on Christmas in March, then the Cocos Booby at Lake Macquarie in May, and now the Black-headed Gull in Geraldton in June. How lucky is that! Here's a dreadful shot I took with my phone. At least it's proof:

And here it is enlarged:

And here's one I took using John's camera:

On Wednesday, 3 June, Richard Baxter informed me that there was a vagrant, unidentified gull in Geraldton. I was scheduled to go to Queensland on Monday (to look for the Herberton Honeyeater and Lloyd Nielsen's undescribed quail-thrush) and doubted I had time to organize a trip to Geraldton before then. Richard scoffed. 'You've got four full days!' he said. 'Plenty of time!' On Thursday, I learnt that the unidentified bird was a Black-headed Gull - a bird I'd seen in England, but which I needed for my Australian list. Here's a shot I took last century in England:

I was reluctant to fly to Perth until I had arranged transport to Geraldton, and I spent an anxious few hours discussing options and seeking travelling companions. Finally, thanks to Damien Baxter and the WA What'sapp birding group, I arranged a lift with Geoffrey Groom, who was driving up with John Edmond. He had a Ford Ranger, I was welcome to join them, but there was little legroom in the back seat, Geoff warned. Lack of legroom is generally not a problem for someone on my stature. He agreed to pick me up at my hotel at 4 a.m. on Friday morning. So I flew to Perth and stayed, as usual, at the Sanno Marracoonda. Four a.m. on Friday found me standing in the street outside the Sanno, ready for an exciting adventure. Geoff arrived. We picked up John, and drove directly to Geraldton. We had a very brief stop at the Badgingarra Roadhouse, and arrived in Geraldton a little before 9 a.m. Geoff seemed convinced that we'd have trouble spotting the bird and would have to stay the night in Geraldton. I was hopeful we'd see it immediately and be back in Perth comfortably by tea-time. We parked near the Surf Life Savers yellow building, and while the boys were playing with their camera equipment, I strolled over to the beach to get the lay of the land. Immediately I saw a flock of Silver Gulls, and one gull had a very obvious black head! 'I've got it! I've got it!' I yelled as I ran back to the car. Literally within twenty seconds, and before 9 a.m. we had our quarry. What a relief! Now, all anxiety dispelled, I could concentrate on enjoying the bird. His attractive dark red bill perfectly matched his dark red legs. (I say 'he', but I don't think anyone knows what sex it is.) He seemed to me to be the same size as the Silver Gulls and his pretty brown (NOT black) head, just as I remembered, finished high on his nape and did not give him a complete hood. His partial white eye-rings were most attractive. Let's face it: I wouldn't have cared what he looked like: a tick's a tick! And now here are some proper photos, taken by John Edmond:

COCOS BOOBY

Since my publisher visited in February, I've been too busy writing to do much birding. I did take time out to twitch the Indian Pond Heron on Christmas Island in March (and managed to pick up the Arctic Warbler at the same time), but, other than that, I've done very little birding since February. Certainly the furthest thing from my mind this week was a possible twitch. May twitches are unusual. I've only ever done two: the Northern Shoveler at Werribee in 2004 and the Forest Wagtail in Alice Springs in 2013. Most twitches occur in our summer. Then, out of the blue, on Tuesday morning, Richard Baxter rang me to say there was a Cocos Booby at Lake Macquarie. I'd never heard of a Cocos Booby. (Let's be honest, I'd never heard of a Nazca Booby until 2024.) I don't like to display too much ignorance in front of the great man, so I asked tentatively: 'Does Avilist recognize it?' When he assured me that Avilist embraced the Cocos Booby wholeheartedly, and I could count it on my Australian list, I was up for the twitch. Richard intended to fly to Sydney then pick up a hire car and drive to Newcastle. When he found he couldn't get a direct flight to Sydney from Perth, we agreed he'd fly to Melbourne and we'd get the same flight to Sydney. Miracle of miracles, I managed to get on the correct flight, and, not only that, I booked the seat next to Richard: 15B. The flight departed at 6 o'clock. I had a lunch with former work colleagues on Tuesday, so I could still attend that, but I'd have to cancel my covid booster that afternoon and my hairdresser's appointment the next morning. Both those phone calls took longer than it took me to pack. I arranged a car to take me to the airport and I was ready to go. I'm afraid I wasn't very good company at lunch. All I could think of was the Cocos Booby. Richard told me that the species had been split recently from Brown Booby. Our bird was a female, and was identified from a Brown Booby by the bill colour and the underwing pattern. Having dipped on my Nazca Booby after travelling all the way to Ashmore Reef to see it, I was especially anxious not to dip on his Cocos cousin. Now, apart from the two Gannets, there are six boobies on the Australian list: Abbott's, Red-footed, Brown, Nazca, Masked and now, Cocos. Here's a photo of a Brown Booby I took on Ashmore Reef in 2016. You can tell it's a male by his blue bill.

I reckoned that the Cocos Booby would look very like a Brown Booby. I made my way to the right gate in the Virgin terminal (a sufficient challenge for me for one day) and waited for Richard. And waited. When my plane was about to board, I texted Richard and asked where he was. His plane was late. Should I board my plane, or wait for Richard? I approached the desk and overheard a phone conversation, which seemed to indicate that passengers from some other plane which had been delayed, had been removed from this flight to Sydney and transferred to another flight. I asked whether my friend was included in this group. The woman told me quite curtly that privacy provisions meant that she couldn't possibly divulge that information. What plane had people been transferred to? Again, that information was far too confidential to tell me. So I got on the plane and flew to Sydney alone. Richard and I met at the hire car desk in Sydney airport. We picked up a nice Kia and set off for Lake Macquarie. Getting out of Sydney airport at that hour in the rain was a bit of a challenge. I thought the road signs left a lot to be desired, and while we had GPS on the phone, we lacked the right cords to display this information on the screen on the dashboard. Notwithstanding these difficulties, we made it to Lake Macquarie, arriving before 11 p.m. We stayed at the Belmont Hotel, and very nice it was too. (And, I thought, very well priced at $135 per room.) The next morning, we set off at 7 to look for our booby. Unfortunately, Lake Macquarie was blanketed in a heavy fog. No doubt the bird was roosting on a yacht on the lake, laughing at the small crowd of disappointed birders who couldn't see anything but fog. Richard and I decided to go and have breakfast and return when the fog had lifted. That was a good plan, except, after we'd enjoyed a slow and delicious breakfast, the fog still hadn't lifted. We returned to Lake Macquarie to wait. The bird is sitting somewhere in the middle of this fog.

We waited. We knew the bird was present. It was just a matter of time before nature allowed us to see it. There weren't a lot of distractions. As far as the birdlife went, I might as well have been in Melbourne. I saw Noisy Miners, Silver Gulls, Magpies, Magpie-larks, Crested Pigeons, Australian White Ibis and Spotted Doves. The fog did finally lift sufficiently for us all to get a tickable view of the bird. Very kindly, it then flew from one boat to another, giving us a glimpse of its underwing pattern. I came home so delighted with my new lifer, that I've almost forgotten the stress of waiting - first waiting for Richard to turn up, then, waiting for the fog to lift. Almost.

This lovely photo of the Cocos Booby (above) was taken by Ted Elks. Thank you, Ted! And this one was taken by Bernie O'Keefe. Thank you, Bernie!

And now, here are some really spectacular photos from Andy Robinson:

WHAT IS THIS BIRD?

This photo was taken by Jon and Janet Coleman on a Southport pelagic on Saturday, 21 March 2026. No one is sure of the bird's identity. Initially, it was called as a Fluttering Shearwater, but questions were soon asked about that. Some thought it might be a Manx Shearwater; others opted for Newell's Shearwater. Here's another photo, this one taken by Jacob Crisp.

I travelled to Southport for this pelagic in the hope of seeing a New Caledonian Storm Petrel. I did not see one. What's worse, I didn't even see the unidentified shearwater in the photos above. So, for me, I did not achieve my objective. Others on the boat were brimming with excitement. I flew to the Gold Coast on Friday afternoon, and the taxi charged me $200 to take me to my Southport hotel. I've done this trip three times before, and each time the taxi fare has been just under $100. I wasn't happy. Some large triathalon was being held on the Gold Coast this weekend. My taxi driver hadn't heard about it and the hotel assured me, when asked, that it would not interfere with my getting to the boat the next morning. They were wrong. The boat was scheduled to leave at 5.30. When my taxi hadn't arrived at 5.10, I began to get anxious. To give him credit, the taxi driver rang to say the road closures were holding him up. I rang Craig, Captain of the Grinner, to explain I'd be late. The taxi eventually came and drove me, by a very circuitous route, to the marina. I was only a little late, but when I arrived, everyone was on the boat waiting to go. I felt awful. What a way to start the day! The weather was warm and we had just a few tiny sprinkles of rain during the day, but the seas were calm and you'd have to say they were ideal conditions for a pelagic. The trouble is, when you have your heart set on just one bird, you are very easily disappointed. One of the other participants was extremely excited at the end of the day. Here's a taste of his email: 'What an absolutely epic day out on the water! I am still buzzing from the sheer number of highlights. Seeing the Tahiti and Kermadec Petrels, the Lesser Frigatebirds, the Masked Booby, the White Tern, the Pomarine Jaeger, and that spectacular White-tailed Tropicbird all in one day was beyond my wildest expectations.' Clearly he went home ecstatic. I, on the other hand, did not see the storm petrel which was the object of my journey, dipped on the intriguing unidentified shearwater, was annoyed with all taxi drivers everywhere, and went home very stressed. Such is life.