BRITANNIA SEAMOUNT

On the weekend of 3-6 February 2023, I went to the Britannia Seamount off Southport in the Gold Coast. I was hoping for a New Caledonian Storm Petrel, and came home with a bogey bird crossed off my list! Howzat! The trip was organized by Paul Walbridge. We were on M.V. Grinner, captained by Craig Newton, and a lovely new boat it was too. It only rained at night (sounds like Camelot!) but it was a bit warmer than I'd have liked. In fact, although I wore my hat most diligently, I came home with a bright red burnt face. (Most captivating for my early morning meeting with my publisher on Tuesday I'm sure you'll agree!) I recorded 17 species, and I know I wasn't alone in secretly hoping for more. Most common were Grey-faced and Tahiti Petrels, but there were also good numbers of Flesh-footed Shearwaters and Sooty Terns. There were fewer Wedge-tailed Shearwaters and a surprisingly large number of Kermadec Petrels, all in various stages of moult. One very handsome Gould's Petrel flew past giving us all good looks, contrasting with one Long-tailed Jaeger and one White-tailed Tropicbird, which each grudgingly and fleetingly put in an appearance, just long enough to get onto the list but not to satisfy anyone. There were two Red-tailed Tropicbirds. But, sadly, no New Caledonian Storm Petrels, the main reason most of us were there. This bird was discovered in 1839, then not seen again for 169 years. It was rediscovered in 2008 off Noumea, and since 2011, 170 sightings have been documented off Southport. Most unfortunately, we were not able to add to that total. We did see three or four White-bellied Storm Petrels, each of which hung around the boat, giving everyone a good opportunity to study it. I think everyone agreed that the Bird of the Day on Saturday was one single Bulwer's Petrel, that flew by quickly giving just a fleeting glance. When photographs were examined later, opinions differed as to its identification. It wasn't a Bulwer's Petrel at all! It was a dark storm petrel, but which one? Sadly, no one had a definitive photo. As I write, the bird's identity remains a mystery. Overnight a Tahiti Petrel landed on deck and we awoke to the pleasure of letting it go. I'm delighted to report that, by the time I emerged, it had already been captured and safely placed in a crate with a towel on top. I was told it was to be measured before it was released. In the end it was released without being measured, because no one had sufficiently robust protective gloves. It was not in the least bit scared and sat on the edge of the crate eyeing us all with an interested gaze, before finally flying to freedom. We were all becoming a bit dejected by the early afternoon on Sunday, when we hadn't seen anything really exciting. Then my bogey bird appeared. I had given up and gone into the cabin to treat myself to a beer. No sooner had I sat down, than I was called outside. My bogey bird had appeared! And there it was. Unambiguously big and beautiful. As shown in these terrific photos by Paul Walbridge.

I find myself no longer able to feel any animosity towards the White-necked Petrel, which over the years I have learned not to love. I have travelled interstate on 23 occasions attempting to see this bird. Now, while attempting to see something else, I have seen it. In fact I saw two birds. And magnificent they were too. Very big and very beautiful. Perhaps not worth 23 interstate trips, or waiting twenty years to see it. On the other hand, perhaps it was worth the wait. They really were most impressive. In fact, I'd say, literally breathtaking. Included in my notes to help me identify a White-necked Petrel if I ever happened to see one, is the comment: 'more relaxed flight than smaller cookalaria.' This seems to me a most unhelpful comment. Both birds I saw flew so fast, that everytime I took my binoculars off one, I couldn't find it again without some trouble. I reckon it would be hard to describe the flight as 'relaxed.' I believe a good weekend was enjoyed by all, even those of us who didn't get a lifer. Of course I was disappointed that I didn't see my New Caledonian Storm Petrel, but I can hardly complain, can I?

A MODEST TARGET FOR JANUARY

I like setting myself targets. I like achieving them. There's no point in setting an unachievable goal. Where's the joy in that?

This month, January 2023, I set myself the target of seeing 100 species of birds. I thought this would be easily achieved because I was starting the year on the Cocos Islands (giving me such wonderful starters as Purple Heron, White-breasted Waterhen, Asian Brown Flycatcher - photo above by Bill Russell, Rosy Starling, Common Redshank and, best of all, Common Kingfisher) and having to overnight in Perth on the way home (Western Wattlebird, Laughing Dove, Australian Ringneck). I had my name down for a January pelagic out of Port Fairy, so I figured I could achieve 100 birds without too much difficulty. Of course, I did all my normal walks around home, which includes walking to Hay's Paddock, Willsmere Billabong, Burke Road Billabong and Darebin Parklands. I visited Banyule and Wilson Reserve and I did a walk at Historic Woodlands Park. Unfortunately, my pelagic was cancelled. The captain reckoned the swells were too great, and it would have taken us five hours to reach the shelf. Suddenly I realized that January was drawing to a close and I was not going to achieve my 100 birds. I drove to Jells Park and managed to add Australasian Darter and Australian Reed Warbler to my list. I drove to Healesville, but all I saw new for the year were Silvereyes, a beautiful male Rufous Whistler and a Grey Shrikethrush.

It was 24 January and my total was 94. If only that pelagic hadn't been cancelled, I'd have made it easily. I set off for Karkarook, hoping for a Blue-billed Duck, a Greenfinch and a Goldfinch. I saw none of those. I did manage a Hoary-headed Grebe, so I was now just 5 off my target. I made lists of all the 'easy' birds I hadn't yet seen. There were lots of them! Surely I could find five in a week. I decided to visit Fern Tree Gully. I remembered Rufous Fantails flitting around, just above my head. Too easy! When I arrived at the Dandenong Ranges National Park, I saw two new birds before I left the carpark: Australian King Parrot and Gang-gang Cockatoo. With renewed confidence I set off on the comfortable walk (I think it was called 'Meanderers Track') - none of those 100 steps for me. I wasn't in training. I wanted to see some birds. I wandered around for a while. I saw lots of rabbits and one wallaby, several Eastern Yellow Robins, Grey Fantails and Yellow-faced Honeyeaters, but nothing new. No hint of a Rufous Fantail. It seemed ridiculous. There were so many common birds not on my 2023 list. Yet I couldn't see any! Suddenly, I glimpsed something different with a family of fairywrens: a Red-browed Finch, number 98! Perhaps I could make it after all. But no, I was forced to go home without any more ticks for my list. I decided I would not go birding on Australia Day. There were two reasons for this: being a public holiday, I thought there'd be hoards of loud holiday-makers at any birding spot I cared to visit, and the forecast was for a grey, overcast day, with fog in the outer suburbs, conditions not really conducive to birding. However, when I did my early morning walk, the birds seemed to be particularly active. I looked at the sky, and thought I might as well have a go. So I drove to Sherbrooke, with dreams of lyrebirds and whipbirds enticing me. There was a very light misty rain as I parked the car. Immediately I heard a treecreeper, then a Fan-tailed Cuckoo, but I couldn't see either of them. I set off, determined to add just two birds to my list. It was a pleasant walk, but there were few birds. The light rain persisted and I doubted I was going to see anything other than parrots. Then I saw a female Australian Golden Whistler. At last! Number 99. Then, finally, a White-throated Treecreeper. I'd made it. I drove home happily, having achieved my modest target. The difficulty is that I want to do it all again in February!

MY FIFTH TRIP TO COCOS

After a successful week on Christmas Island with Richard Baxter, when everyone achieved at least one lifer and the newbies had about a dozen, we arrived on Cocos with great expectations. This was my fifth trip to Cocos and I'd never seen a Watercock, although I had looked every time. There were recent reports of several birds on the island, but we knew they were very sensitive and flighty. A new birdhide had been built at the lake and we spent some hours there, hoping for Chinese Sparrowhawk and Northern Pintail. This photo shows the lake when it is not raining.

As the group sat on pintail-watch at the hide, once a day, Richard took two of us to look for Watercock, in the long grass in the farm behind the lake. After the birds had been flushed, Richard gave them some peace for the rest of the day. I was lucky to be one of the first two taken to look for Watercocks on the first day. It did not take long! A bird flushed in front of us, showing unmistakable long trailing legs. It is most gratifying to finally tick a bird you have sought for many years. We saw Watercocks several times during the week. There must be quite a few birds on the island this year. Sadly, I do not have a photo of one. We had high hopes too of seeing a Cinnamon Bittern, as the locals reported seeing one every day. It was either in the green waste dump, or walking along the grassy verge beside the road. Easy! This sighting would have put me in the Bittern Club, meaning I'd seen all six species of Australian bitterns (Australasian, Black-backed, Yellow, Von Schrenck's, Cinnamon and Black). Sadly, we soon learnt that the bird had been killed by a cat. Here' the evidence.

We saw Common Sandpipers most days. I thank Bill Russell for this lovely photo.

This Asian Brown Flycatcher led us a merry dance. They like to hide high in the canopy sitting perfectly still for hours, then perversely, come out into the open and show themselves well. Photo again by Bill Russell.

Of course we did the requisite motorised canoe trip to look for Saunders's Terns. I'm not sure why I dislike these canoes so much; suffice it to say that I do. Nevertheless I girded my loins and gritted my teeth and was rewarded with the best possible sightings of Saunders's Terns. Not only must birders undergo the canoe trip (although in fairness I should say that I think I was the only person present who did not enjoy the canoe trip) but then there is another wet walk through water in the hot sun before birders arrive at the Saunders's Tern viewing area. I've seen these birds a couple of times before, but never like this. The birds actually came to investigate us, flying low over our heads. It was wonderful! Then, of course, we celebrated with champagne. It took great skill to actually notice birds that came to investigate us, so we figured that we'd earned our champagne. Another Bill Russell photo shows us setting off on our journey. I'm in front in the red canoe.

On New Year's Eve, we attended a fancy dress party at Scout Park. The theme was 'the jungle' and some people went to a fair amount of trouble. With space and weight restrictions in my luggage, I wimped out and wore a teeshirt showing rainforest frogs. The fireworks were nothing short of spectacular, and, most unusual for me, I managed to stay awake to see the New Year in. My reward was the chance at another tick on 2 January. A Common Kingfisher had been seen on the island. I had looked unsuccessfully for this bird before. But this time, we thought we knew where it was. It involved (inevitably) a wade through water. I do not enjoy walking through water. I find it uncomfortable and disconcerting when you don't know where you are putting your foot down. On the way back, Richard found a pineapple puffer fish and I was pleased that I hadn't trodden on it! Or known it was there on the walk out. Lucky for me, Ted offered me his arm, and this assistance made a difficult walk quite bearable. That's me, second from the right, hanging on for dear life! (Photo again by Bill Russell.)

A great start for the New Year: a lifer! I took this photo from the RSPB's 'Birds of Britain and Europe'. For me, the most outstanding feature was the bright blue back, which really stood out.

So I came home with three ticks in all: one on Christmas and two on Cocos. That's not bad, I'm sure you'll agree.

CHRISTMAS ON CHRISTMAS

On 20 December 2022 I flew to Christmas Island. This was my sixth visit to this tiny piece of utopia. Of course I've always loved Christmas Island: I've seen 27 lifers there. On my first trip in 2002, I saw seven lifers driving from the airport to our accommodation! There's not many places in Australia you can do that. On this occasion, I had learnt that an Amur Stonechat had been seen recently at North West Point, so of course I wanted that. When I arrived, it was two weeks since the bird had been seen, but I was still keen to look for it.

As you can see, I got wet! This photo was taken by a fellow intrepid searcher, Bill Russell, and that's me in front. I am not enjoying myself. Apart from the rain and the deep puddles, there were creepers across the track designed to trip me up, not to mention the lack of any stonechats. There are better ways to spend a morning on Christmas Island. The red crabs are famous on Christmas, and rightly so, because of the incredible numbers of them. They can be a breathtaking spectacle. On this trip, we saw millions of teeny tiny crabs, which looked like red paint spilled across the road. Workmen were blowing them out of harm's way with leaf blowers. Many roads were closed throughout our week on the island, limiting the spots we could visit.

There are nearly 100 different species of crabs on Christmas. Perhaps the most impressive is the huge robber crab. I've never actually been brave enough to pick one up before, but this time I did, more than once!

Sadly, I dipped on two very exciting birds on this trip. One was a Yellow-breasted Bunting, which I thought I'd earned, having spent a couple of very hot hours waiting for it to return to the chook pen where it had been sighted. The other was a Northern Boobook, which I also thought I'd earned, as I stood beside Elliot Leach while he admired it! I had better luck on Christmas day. I received the best possible Christmas present: a lifer! It was a Eurasian Hobby, flying overhead and saving me a trip to Western Australia to look for it. A most welcome present indeed, and my 28th lifer for the island. Like MacArthur, I will return!

CATBIRD QUEST

It is hot. The cicadas are so loud I can't hear the bird calls. It is December 2022 and I am with Phil Gregory at Iron Range, hoping desperately to see a Black-eared Catbird. This bird is fast becoming a bogey bird. I visited Iron Range in 2017 with Phil Maher and in 2018 with Chook, on both occasions joining a tour in the vain hope of seeing a Black-eared Catbird (although in fairness I should point out that in 2017 I did add Spotted Whistling Duck to my lifelist at Archer River so it wasn't a totally wasted trip). I had thought that a catbird should be easy and that any guide worth his fee should be able to show me one. However, I've since learnt differently. Catbirds are not easy. They are elusive and, if they do not call, they can be impossible to see. So I was done with tours. On this occasion I hired a private guide. Phil told me that the three hardest birds at Iron Range are Northern Scrubrobin, Yellow-legged Flyrobin and, yes, Black-eared Catbird. Now I've seen scrubrobins and flyrobins aplenty: all I ask is one good look at an Iron Range catbird. Riflebirds were calling magnificently. Orioles wouldn't shut up. Black-winged Monarchs were both vocal and visible, making me wonder why I'd bothered with a special trip to McIvor River to add them to my list. Catbirds remained stubbornly silent.

Getting to Iron Range is expensive. Of course it's a delightful spot with some exceptional birds and I'm lucky to have an excuse to go there. But Lockhart River is a dry community so I am without alcohol for the duration. If I do see my catbird I will not be able to celebrate appropriately until I return home. To get to Iron Range, I fly to Cairns, then take the Skytrans Dash 8 to Lockhart River. Phil advises I should allow a good two days to get the catbird, so I leave home on Sunday, overnight in Cairns, fly to Iron Range on Monday, find the catbird on Tuesday or Wednesday, fly back to Cairns on Thursday, then home to Melbourne on Friday. Quite a production for one little bird. And this is the third time I've done it. Don't anybody try to tell me that I haven't earned this tick. So I flew to Cairns on Sunday. Here I did manage to see a Scaly-breasted Munia, a bird that avoided me when I visited Cairns in March to admire the Nordmann's Greenshank. On Monday I flew to Iron Range and met Phil. Hightlights for me were a Trumpet Manucode, a Green-backed Honeyeater and a Frill-necked Monarch. On Tuesday we looked seriously for the catbird. We saw a Yellow-billed Kingfisher, a Double-eyed Fig Parrot, a Yellow-breasted Boatbill and a pair of Northern Scrubrobins. I did hear a catbird in the far distance. On Wednesday I was starting to feel anxious. I would hate to think that I'd visited Iron Range in vain for the third time. We saw a White-eared Monarch to add to the Frill-necked and Black-winged members of the genus. All very nice, I'm sure, but not a catbird. Then suddenly, there is was! My beautiful catbird miaowing at me. He landed just above my head, allowing me to view his beautiful breast with much bolder markings than his spotted cousin. He flew around, teasing us, calling and (I thought) jeering at me. Needless to say I was absolutley thrilled, even though I wasn't able to toast his beauty with a glass of bubbly. Thank you, Phil. On Thursday, I added Palm Cockatoo to my list before I flew back to Cairns. On Friday, I flew back home to prepare for my big December trip: Christmas on Christmas.

THE LURE OF A LIFER

Wow! A lifer, Gouldian Finches, Rainbow Pittas and Zitting Cisticolas all in one morning! It was 9 December 2022. The lifer was a Swinhoe's Snipe and I was at Pine Creek, south of Darwin with Luke Paterson from NT bird Specialists. It was hot. Five minutes earlier I'd been conscious of the temperature. I'd flown to Darwin to look for the snipe against my better judgement as I had a long-standing appointment to go to Iron Range in FNQ the next week to look for what was fast becoming a bogey bird, the Black-eared Catbird. When I realized that I wouldn't get the snipe in my spare moments in Queensland after I'd got the catbird, I thought I'd better look elsewhere. Next year would be appropriate. I contacted Luke from Nt Bird Specialists and was told categorically: there's only one month to see the snipe - that's December. Could I fit in a quick trip to Darwin before my scheduled flight to FNQ? The lure of a lifer was too strong. Of course I could.

I flew to Darwin. I allowed two days to snare the snipe. On the first day Luke and I explored Darwin's best snipe hangouts - Leanyer Sewage Treatment Ponds (above photo is just outside Leanyear), Knuckey Lagoons, McMinn's Reserve. We had a pleasant day, clocked up a respectable 72 species, including some very good birds such as Red-headed Myzomela and Broad-billed Flycatcher. But I wasn't here for a pleasant time admiring very good birds. I was here for a lifer. It was time to get serious. Luke said our best bet was to drive to Pine Creek, some 225 kilometres south of Darwin. A snipe had been seen there recently. This bird (presumably it was the same bird) turned up every year and was very loyal to the one site - a drain beside the road. So Luke and I set off at 5.30 the next morning, full of optimism. A heat wave was forecast across the whole of the north of the continent. The countryside was very green. Wildflowers were in profusion. My mood remained positive even when we arrived at Pine Creek and parked under a large colony of fruit bats. And I was optimistic as we set off to explore the length of the drain. I was a bit alarmed to see that the drain was quite dry, but Luke seemed okay with that. Who was I to query the expert? A koel was calling and I made a mental note to track him down later, after we'd seen our quarry. The Hooded Parrots wouldn't wait: they flew right in front of us, the male unbelievably colourful and handsome. As I obediantly followed Luke beside the dry drain I began to be aware of the heat. I'd never seen snipe in a dry drain. Just what were we doing here? It was madness. We'd have been better off trying Knuckey Lagoon again. I trudged along considering ways I could have spent the money I'd squandered trying to see a Swinhoe's Snipe. Suddenly a brown bird flushed in front of us and flew fast across the oval: undeniably a snipe! The trip had been vindicated. Of course I hadn't really dounbted Luke. He was the expert after all.

TOWER HILL AND PORT FAIRY

Yesterday I enjoyed a very pleasant pelagic out of Port Fairy. This was the first time I'd been out on the new big boat, the Southern Explorer.

I had expected some big swells, perhaps some rain, and certainly cold winds with lots of seaspray. As it turned out, the seas were calm, the weather benign. I listed 17 species of birds out at sea, but I dipped on one Flesh-footed Shearwater that flew past in a hurry. I was a little disappointed we didn't see more storm petrels - I love these dainty little ballerinas. I saw just three storm petrels, all Wilson's. And the only prions we saw were Fairy Prions. There weren't big numbers of them either, but some came quite close to the boat. There were no diving petrels and just two Little Penguins. Naturally there were Silver Gulls and Greater Crested Terns, and, when we were nearly back at port at the end of the day, just one Common Tern. And those elegant creatures, Australasian Gannets, graced us with their presence throughout the day.

What there were a lot of were Shy Albatrosses. And they were not shy. We must have seen hundreds throughout the day, gliding, taking berleigh or just sitting beside the boat, seeming to enjoy being admired. Just one Indian Yellow-nosed Albatross flew past quickly, unfortunately missed by many people on the boat. And there just a handful of great albatrosses: two or three Southern Royal and one Wandering. Everyone is impressed by a great albatross. Their sheer size is breath-taking. This photo was taken by Ken Haines.

I thought there were surprisingly few Short-tailed Shearwaters, given we were in Port Fairy in November. I saw one Sooty Shearwater, but I'm told there were more. I'm not sure how many Northern Giant Petrels there were (no Southern), I only saw one at a time, so it is possible it was the same bird throughout the day. As to the petrels, there were Grey-faced, Great Winged and White-chinned. Here's a White-chinned, taken by Ken Haines.

My last pelagic in February, out of Kiama, was quite disastrous. I spent the entire day, wet to the skin, shivering in the captain's cabin. Yesterday was more like it. Good company, good birds, good weather. As a pelagic should be. On Saturday afternoon, we visited Tower Hill. This is site 57 in my 100 Best Birdwatching Sites in Australia. I've been there many times before and always enjoyed it. As always, I was entertained by koalas, kangaroos and emus. Other people enjoyed the copperheads. I liked the skinks. But of course I preferred the birds. We saw a pair of Musk Ducks with three cute ducklings. And just one male Blue-billed Duck made me think the water must have been deeper than I'd expected. There were some regal swans, and a few other waterfowl, Swamp Harriers (of course!) and one or two Whistling Kites. As usual, the highlight for me was the bush birds. There was one gorgeous male Australian Golden Whistler, and, I think an equally attractive, if not quite so showy, male Rufous Whistler. There were Silvereyes, Brown Thornbills and a good collection of honeyeaters: White-naped, Yellow-faced and New Holland. There were Red-browed Finches and European Goldfinches. I mustn't forget the fairywrens: the males were truly superb, living up to their name quite appropriately. We heard, but did not see, a Fan-tailed Cuckoo. Likewise, we heard, but did not see a mournful Little Grassbird. Luckily, we did see, one very noisy Australian Reed Warbler. Tower Hill is worth a visit. There is no reason (in my opinion) to commune with the copperheads. Walk right past is my advice. Then you can admire the beautiful Musk Ducklings.