CHRISTMAS ISLAND: MY TENTH VISIT

Qantas-Link somehow managed to transport us all with our luggage from Cocos to Christmas Island without losing anything. Unfortunately, from my point of view, Christmas Island proved to be most disappointing. We did all our usual things: we admired the Golden Bosunbirds, we tried to identify each and every frigatebird and we wondered at the prehistoric Abbott's Booby. Everyone easily saw the Christmas Boobook, but alas! I do not believe that there were any Northern Boobooks on the island. We all saw plenty of Island Thrushes, White-eyes and Swiftlets, and everyone saw Java Sparrows and Christmas Goshawks at least once. It was extremely dry and there were virtually no migrants at all. We did see a few Barn Swallows, but they were swooping quite high, and if it had been a lifer, I'd have liked a better look. A couple of Arctic Warblers were reported before we arrived, someone saw a von Schrenk's Bittern and there was talk of a Yellow Bittern, but that was it. At Margaret Knoll, we watched a Peregrine Falcon (race ernesti) being hassled by, and in turn hassling, a frigatebird. I thought it was good to see the frigatebird get some of its own medicine for once. Richard told us he'd only ever seen Peregrines take Christmas Imperial Pigeons. He'd no sooner finished his statement, than some of us witnessed the Peregrine doing just that: killing a pigeon in mid-air. One thing we did which I hadn't done before, was to go on a pelagic. Sadly, it was predictable tropical seabirding. We saw nothing noteworthy. In the rainforest, sharp-eyed Sue (who was responsible for finding most of last year's vagrants on Cocos) saw this:

There are cat traps all over the island, but this is the first time I've ever seen anything caught in one. The National Parks staff remain confident that they will eventually eliminate feral cats, but it is unfortunate that the Malay population thinks it is their right to own a pet. While it is illegal to own an unspayed cat on Christmas Island, there's no doubt that some still exist. In fact, the most interesting creatures on this leg of our trip were not birds. A couple of our group saw an exciting, as yet unidentified bat, and when we dined at Lucky Ho's, we enjoyed a fruit-piercing moth sucking up mango juice off the table cloth.

I can only hope that my eleventh trip to Christmas Island will be more productive. I must see that Northern Boobook one day!

COCOS POCUS

Cocos (Keeling) Islands are 2,700 kilometres north-north-west of Perth in the Indian Ocean. There are two coral atolls comprising 27 islands, only two of which are inhabited. About 400 people of Malay extraction live on Home Island and about 200 people mainly of European extraction on West Island. There is a regular ferry service between the islands. Before my most recent trip, I had visited Cocos seven times and seen a total of 36 lifers there. Before I left Melbourne on my most recent trip, I knew that this year's trip could not possibly match last year's. For each birding hotspot, such as Cocos, there are perhaps 4 or 5 special years in a lifetime - years when vagrants excel all expectations. 2016 was one such year. I saw eleven lifers on Cocos in 2016. They were: Yellow Bittern, Rosy Starling, Von Schrenk's Bittern, Asian Brown Flycatcher, Drongo Cuckoo, Brown Shrike, Blue and White Flycatcher, Black-crowned Night Heron, Eyebrowed Thrush, Tree Pipit and Northern Pintail. I never expected to do that again. And indeed I have not. But, in 2024, on my seventh trip to Cocos, I saw a remarkable six lifers. They were: Dark-sided Flycatcher, Indian Cuckoo, Eurasian Wigeon, Black-naped Oriole, Cinnamon Bittern and Pallas's Grasshopper Warbler. I do not ever expect to replicate that. But I did hope that this year I might see just one lifer. Alas! It was not to be. Others on the tour glimpsed a yet to be identified crake as it flashed from one patch of undergrowth to another. I did not. Despite much effort, all attempts at photographing or videoing it failed, so the identification remains uncertain. Based on size (small) and colour (brown) the experts reckon that it might be a Ruddy-breasted Crake.

I visit Cocos as often as possible with Richard Baxter's Birding Tours Australia. This year our trip started inauspiciously. Qantas now has the contract for this route - previously it was Virgin. There are already many disconcertingly negative stories about the transfer from Virgin to Qantas. We were scheduled to fly to Cocos on Friday 28 November. The flight was cancelled and we were accommodated overnight in the Perth Parmelia Hilton. We made it to Cocos the next day, Saturday 29th, in time to see a Red-necked Phalarope at the Bottle Dump before tea. On Sunday, before breakfast, we walked through long grass at the Q Station and flushed two Pin-tailed Snipe.

Later, at the farm, Richard played the call of Asian Koel and one responded almost immediately, giving everyone a good look, and providing a third lifer for some people on the trip. Richard then had his first glimpse of the small crake, getting us all excited about this possible First for Australia. We were to chase it assiduously over the next few days, using every technique we could devise - all to no avail. No one ever had a really good look at it and some of us (including me) did not even achieve a fleeting glimpse. Monday saw our trip to South Island for Saunders's Tern. Most people were equally keen to see the Tibetan Sand Plover and race 'scythicus'of the Greater Sand Plover - a potential future armchair tick. I probably should not have gone. The tides and sand banks were such that it was a long hot walk, after our canoe ride from West Island to South Island. I took my walking stick as I do not like walking in water, but nevertheless I had a fall. Allan picked me up and, to the best of my knowledge, only John witnessed the spectacle. I saw Saunders's Terns briefly thought the scope, but, given that I've seen this species several times before, I'm not sure it was worth the effort. Part of Richard's Saunders's Tern adventure is a stopover on the return trip at Pulu Blan Mater to admire the Blue-tailed Skink. This lizard is extinct on Christmas Island, thanks to the joint efforts of introduced wolf snakes and yellow crazy ants. However, a captive breeding program at both Taronga Zoo and the Pink House on Christmas Island has resulted in skinks being released on two islands, with both released populations increasing impressively. It is a great success story. In fact it is said to be the world's most successful reptile captive breeding program. On Tuesday we took the ferry to Home Island, where there was a possible sighting of a thrush, which might have been an Eyebrowed Thrush. Not a very satisfactory sighting for those of us who had not seen an Eyebrowed Thrush before. What we all did see with no ambiguity was a Golden Bosunbird! I thought perhaps I saw two: one beautiful fully golden one, and one with a pale yellow wash. This morph of White-tailed Tropicbird was always regarded as endemic to Christmas Island. I don't believe it has ever been seen before on Cocos.

There is really nothing else worth reporting about my recent trip to Cocos. So now I have visited Cocos Islands eight times and seen a total of 36 lifers there. Let's hope I can do a little better in 2026.

NORFOLK ISLAND

From 2-8 November 2025, I visited Norfolk Island. It is a very pretty place.

I was first here in July 2004, when I saw four lifers: Norfolk Parakeet, Norfolk Gerygone, Slender-billed White-eye and California Quail. At the time, the Norfolk Robin was classified as a subspecies of Scarlet Robin. Then it was given species status and for a while it was called the Pacific Robin, and now it is the Norfolk Robin. In 2004, I did not bother looking for the local owl, because I did not think it was tickable. It was also extremely difficult to see, but that's never stopped me from looking. The 2020 Action Plan estimated the total population of owls to be 25 individuals. My return visit this year had a dual purpose. First, to see the owl (which, I am assured, is tickable) and second (rather ambitiously) to see the Long-tailed Koel. The koel is a New Zealand bird, which passes through Norfolk Island on its annual migration north from New Zealand to Pacific Islands each March, then again on its return journey south back to New Zealand each November. As I left Melbourne, I thought that my chances of seeing the owl, notwithstanding the tiny population, were very good. Conversely, I thought I had virtually no chance of seeing the koel. And how right I was. On both counts. Here's proof that I saw the owl.

The population of owls on Norfolk has been low for many years. In 1986, it was extremely critical. Just one female remained. Ornithologists determined that the most closely related species was New Zealand's Morepork, so they introduced some male owls from New Zealand. The resulting offspring have bred today's owl population, so calling them Norfolk Moreporks is a bit of a stretch really. While the population was estimated at 25 in 2020, no one was quite sure, and a survey is currently underway to determine the population more precisely. We saw many posters advertising the survey.

On our first night on Norfolk, we visited the Botanic Garden at dusk and waited for the boobook call. As soon as we heard it, we played the tape, the bird answered and flew to us. We had two birds in Norfolk Pines above our heads and others calling in the distance. Let's hope there are more than 25 individuals. My other target was the Long-tailed Koel, formerly known as the Long-tailed Cuckoo. We spent many hours listening and waiting for this bird to call. Indeed, I heard it once. But I did not travel thousands of kilometres to hear it! It was very frustrating to know that the bird was present somewhere on the island and I could not see it. Who knows how many of them there are, and how long they spend on Norfolk on their trip home. I could not have done more. I looked in all the known spots and spent hours listening and waiting. It is just a matter of luck and my luck was out. I simply had to go home happy with my Morepork.

We did a two hour boat trip, which was fun. We visited all the tourist spots, looked very hard for koels, enjoyed all the endemics and examined all the waders carefully to ensure that there were no rare Bristle-thighed Curlews amongst them. There weren't. Although the Bristle-thighed Curlew is listed on the Norfolk birdlist which you can pick up at the National Parks Office, I am told that this was on the basis of one unconfirmed anonymous sighting. The Australian Bird Guide states that this bird is not yet recorded from our region, but that it is a potential vagrant to Norfolk and Coral Sea Islands. That's enough to make me look at every whimbrel very carefully.

Norfolk is very pretty. My impression was that, compared with my 2004 visit, there were far fewer cows on the roads, fewer chooks and feral geese, and also fewer Norfolk Robins and Masked Boobies. The smaller number of boobies could be explained because they were nesting last time I visited, so the entire colony was visible, on land. On this visit, most of them would have been out at sea. The smaller number of robins cannot be explained away so easily. I fear their numbers have declined. The 2020 Action Plan estimates the population at 750 and declining. I thought that, on this visit, there were many more California Quail, Norfolk Parakeets and Golden Whistlers. It was a pleasant week. I was delighted to see the Morepork, but frustrated I could not claim a Long-tailed Koel. I will have to return!

NED'S CORNER

Ned's Corner is a well-known Victorian birding spot and I'd never been there, so I thought that situation should be rectified. Ned's Corner is run by the Trust for Nature and is located in the far north-west of the state, along the River Murray. As an added incentive, I'd been told that the race of the Australian Boobooks found there (contrary to the information in all of my field guides and even HANZAB) is in fact ocellata, a race I hadn't seen. Luckily, ocellata is visibly different from other Boobook races. It is much paler overall and has visible white marks around the eyes. I reckon even I could tell the difference. Here's a picture of race boobook taken by my mate Ken Haines at Mt Korong.

And here's one of race ocellata Ken took at Warwilla (which is in NSW between Deniliquin and Hay, again way outside the recognised range for ocellata):

See how much paler it is? And note the white around the eyes. I really wanted to see this race ocellata. So I decided that I must visit Ned's Corner. We left early on Monday morning and went just as far as Ouyen, where we stopped to admire a pair of Striated Grasswren in Hattah/Kulkyne National Park. This is race howei, which I've seen several times before in Gluepot, but I believe only once before in my home state, Victoria. A pair of them came ridiculously close to us, belying their elusive reputation. Back in the township, we admired some Pink Cockatoos and some White-breasted Woodswallows. That afternoon, we failed to see Purple-gaped Honeyeaters, having to make do with White-fronted. Then we saw both Malleefowl and Chestnut Quail-thrush, and thought we'd had a pretty successful day.

On Tuesday, we started the day off with two very beautiful male Mallee Emu-wren. What pretty faces they have! Then we visited Etiwanda Wetlands - another new spot for me. I'd been hoping for a Baillon's Crake, but I was disappointed. Further on, at the intersection of Meridian and Macs Roads, several birders were busily occupied admiring Inland Dotterel. So we did too. After we'd drunk our fill of dotterel, we drove up Macs Road, where the birding was very good indeed. Apart from one skinny brown snake, we saw both Crimson and White-fronted Chats, White-winged Trillers and Chestnut-browned Babblers. We drove on to Lake Cullulleraine and booked into the Bushman's Rest Caravan Park. Here's the view from my cabin door.

It was distressingly windy as we drove off to explore Ned's Corner. It is a huge area, with a very large lake - Lake Walla Walla, which was sadly quite dry. I was sorry about the dry lake, but I was quite distressed by the ferocious wind. My hope of seeing my Australian Boobook quite evaporated. Nevertheless, we had to try. We rugged up and faced the wind boldly. It was a pretty miserable walk in the dark, full of disappointment that we'd come all this way for nothing. I was concentrating on not falling over and trying not to feel too sorry for myself, when suddenly, sitting high in a river red gum looking at us was a Boobook! Of course, it flew before I could get my binoculars focused on it. Perhaps it flew behind us, perhaps another bird appeared, we'll never know, but a few minutes later, we saw a Boobook sitting in another tree looking at us accusingly. This time I had a good look. It was ocellata without a doubt. So all the field guides that mention races, and even HANZAB, have got that wrong. My celebration was even sweeter because I'd been so sure that I was going to miss out. Luckily, it wasn't a very late night spotlighting, and we up again at sunset. Here's the view from my cabin.

We started Wednesday morning with a visit to Yarrara Flora and Fauna Reserve, where we were targetting White-browed Treecreepers. One came to greet us almost as soon as we arrived. The birding was great. We saw Splendid Fairywrens, Hooded and Red-capped Robins, Gilbert's and Rufous Whistlers and Crested Bellbirds. What a lovely list! About the only thing we missed out on that I'd hoped for was Sittellas. We commenced Thursday at Hattah, looking at Regent Parrots. In a very short while, we saw about 50 of them. Regent Parrots are classified as vulnerable, but there was no shortage of them that morning by the Hattah park office. Then we turned our attention to Red-lored Whistlers. I think I've only ever seen them once before. My memory is of lots of native pines and Gilbert's Whistlers sharing the habitat. Unfortunately, the wind was gusting in a most unpleasant fashion, not at all conducive to birding. We had a bit of a half-hearted look, but we knew in our hearts these were not ideal conditions to see Red-lored Whistlers. I thought it was interesting that there were no native pines in the area where we were looking, which is the popular spot for seeing these birds. We did see pardalotes, more Chestnut Quail-thrush, Mulga Parrots and some early Rainbow Bee-eaters, so our time was not entirely wasted. We drove on to Nowingi Line Track where there had been a recent report of a pair of Black Falcons. We arrived at the spot, and before the ignition was turned off, we saw a large black raptor high in the sky. It was a lone Black Falcon! You have to be lucky some time. We stayed that night in Mildura. We booked into our motel, and I went for a walk. I noticed a Little Crow being mobbed by Noisy Miners and attempted to photograph it. The crow flew toward me. I thought it was just trying to escape the miners and I walked on. But no: the crow was attacking me! With a vengeance. Far from avoiding the miners, the crow was taking out all its frustrations on one foolish female human. I hurried away as fast as I could. I've never been attacked by a corvid before. Indeed, I don't believe I've ever heard of a corvid attacking a person. But believe me, while it was not in the class of a magpie attack, you certainly don't want that large black beak making contact with your body. I couldn't get away quickly enough. That evening we went owling again. This time to King's Billabong. We set off at 7.15. I wanted an Owlet-nightjar and a Tawny Frogmouth. We immediately saw four brush-tailed possums, then a frogmouth soon after. It was a female, calling very softly, rocking forward with each call. Then I heard the soft whimper of an owlet-nightjar's call. I looked straight up and there it was. Unfortunately, it did not look down, so all I saw was the tiny body and not its pretty face. I still call that success. We were back at the car at 7.40, so it had taken us all of 25 minutes to achieve our aim. Altogether, a successful trip, despite the awful wind. We dipped on Sittellas and Purple-gaped Honeyeaters, it is true. But I saw Striated Grasswren, Mallee Emu-wren, a Malleefowl, several Chestnut Quail-thrush, Regent Parrots, White-browed Treecreepers, an Owlet-nightjar, a Black Falcon, several Inland Dotterel and, best of all, race ocellata of the Australian Boobook. And, I've now seen Ned's Corner.

RED-BILLED TROPICBIRD

At midnight on Sunday, 31 August, 2025, Richard Baxter emailed me to say that Andrew Robinson had reported a Red-billed Tropicbird on Christmas Island. I couldn't sleep well that night and got up early to send someone an email. Thus I received Richard's email in the wee small hours of Monday 1 September. I was scheduled to go birding at Chiltern that week, and I had an Eaglehawk Neck pelagic booked for Sunday, 14 September. I'd been looking forward to both trips and had lists of birds I hoped to see. They were quite immaterial now. Now, all that mattered was getting to Christmas Island as quickly as possible. To the best of my knowledge, I've never before been on the same land mass at the same time as a Red-billed Tropicbird. The first time I ever heard of a Red-billed Tropicbird being in Australia was in 2010, when one turned up on Lord Howe Island. I was most impressed (not to say envious!) when Rohan Clarke hopped on a plane and twitched it. Somehow, the bird that turned up on Ashmore Reef in November 2014 passed me by.

Some years later, a bird turned up on Christmas Island, but I believe it had left by the time I arrived in November. For the last five or so years, a Red-billed Tropicbird has turned up on Christmas Island every year. It arrives around late August/early September, visits for about a month, then disappears. It never hangs around to greet me when I arrive in November. Last year, my patience ran out and I determined that if the bird turned up this year, I'd twitch it. So it was that on Friday, 5 September, 2025, I arrived on Christmas Island. Lisa Preston, who runs Indian Ocean Experiences, arranged accommodation for me and put me in touch with Andrew Robinson, the man who'd found the bird this year. I met Andy on Saturday morning. We drove to Tai Jin House, where he'd seen the bird, and sat down to wait. We didn't have many hours to fill. At 10.20, the bird appeared! Thank you, Andy! Andy took all the photos on this page. Thank you again, Andy. The bird put on a wonderful display for us, wheeling and calling in front of us for about 15 minutes. Then it disappeared. I remained on Christmas Island until my flight home the following Friday, but I did not see the bird again. I believe there were a handful of other sightings during the week, but not by me. I went to Tai Jin House several times and scanned Flying Fish Cove diligently, but I was not able to wish the bird back into existence. Andy first saw the bird at about 4 in the afternoon. Lisa saw it one morning at 11. Other people were lucky enough to add it to their lists. But I could not determine any pattern in its appearances. It seemed to me to be pot luck whether you saw it at all.

So, a big THANK YOU to Richard and Lisa and Andy. A successful twitch always leaves me feeling good, and, as the twitches get harder and harder to achieve, the good feeling just gets better and better.

MIMICRY

I don't know whether more Australian birds mimic than birds from other lands, but we certainly have a lot of mimics here. Everyone knows about lyrebirds imitating other birds and other sounds. We assume that this is the male endeavouring to impress any female within hearing distance. Why would she be impressed by his accurate impression of a car alarm? And lyrebirds are not the only birds to mimic. I'm told that many small passerines will mimic when they're in the hand. Are they frightened? Are they mimicking something big and scary to intimidate the person holding them? I'm told that Noisy Miners mimic. This is not at all surprising, given the large array of sounds they make. And my birding photographer friend, Ken Haines, tells me that a White-eared Honeyeater once responded to a Red-lored Whistler's call. Does that mean that the honeyeater would mimic the whistler? As far as we know, not many honeyeaters mimic, but we do know that Regent Honeyeaters mimic. Why should just one honeyeater be a proficiant mimic? Regents mimic wattlebirds and friarbirds (amongst others). In fact Little Wattlebirds are conned: they respond to the Regent's imitation. Australian Magpies mimic, although perhaps it is surprising that, for such a common bird, a bird I see every day, I've only ever been aware of them mimicking twice. The first time was some years ago at a park in Western Australia, when a bird imitated an entire race call, including the crowd reaction. I was spellbound. I'd never heard such a thing before - or since for that matter. I don't recall if the park was close to a raceway. The second time was quite recently, when a house was being built over the road from where I live and a magpie mimicked power tools. The clear conclusion is that not all magpies mimic. Just some individuals are that way inclined. What inspires them?

Other than this, I have two fascinating mimicking recollections. Well, I think that they're fascinating. The first was at Lake Gilles Conservation Park in South Australia when I was on a Peter Waanders tour and he was using callback tape to attract Copperback Quailthrush. A bird responded to the tape and we all believed it was a quailthrush. But not Peter. He said that it didn't sound quite right. We tracked the call down, and, of course, Peter was right. It was not a quailthrush. It was a Striated Pardalote mimicking a quailthrush! It certainly seemed to be calling in response to Peter's tape, but why would a bird do that? The second occasion was very recently when I was looking for Striated Grasswren at Yathong Nature Reserve in New South Wales. I thought I heard a grasswren, but it turned out to be an Inland Thornbill mimicking the grasswren's call. The thornbill called before I played the tape. I was excited and thought the thornbill must have learnt the call from grasswren. Therefore I must be close to my quarry. As far as I could tell, of the several Inland Thornbills present, just two individuals were mimicking grasswren calls. And, of course, I saw not a hint of any grasswren anywhere.

Inland Thornbills are well known mimics. This lovely photo is by Ken Haines. I am sure that if I had a better ear for bird calls, I'd recognize a lot more mimics. I suspect there are a lot of mimics out there. I'd love to know why birds mimic. I reckon there might just be as many reasons as there are birds mimicking. We will probably never know!

YATHONG NATURE RESERVE

Yathong Nature Reserve is in western New South Wales, an hour and a half's drive from Cobar. It is the only place to see the nominate race of the Striated Grasswren, called the Mukarrthippi Grasswren. Or not to see them as the case may be. I spent a few days trudging up and down in what I thought was suitable habitat and saw no hint of grasswren. The closest I came was a couple of Inland Thornbills mimicking the grasswren's call. The first time I heard this, my heart leapt and I thought I must be near the bird. Perhaps I was. But I saw no further evidence of it. I arrived on Saturday, spent Sunday and Monday looking for grasswren, took Tuesday off, partly to recover, but mainly to drive to Wilcannia and admire the race samueli of the Red-tailed Black Cockatoo, went back to Yathong again that afternoon, then again spent Wednesday looking for grasswren, before returning home on Thursday. I gave those grasswren every chance to show themselves. Of course I knew that these birds are critically endangered, that the tiny population is estimated to be 12 individuals, with a low possibility that there might be as many as 20 inidividuals. So, with that understanding, I really have no right to be disappointed in not seeing them. Yathong is a large reserve. It covers an area of 115,604 hectares. Hardly surprising that I didn't see a dozen tiny birds.

I saw new races of Grey-fronted and Brown-headed Honeyeaters, which was lovely, but the black cockies (race samueli) gave me a disproportionate amount of pleasure. I'd looked for them unsuccessfully in both Western Australia in June and the Northern Territory in July, so I was absolutely delighted to see them along the Darling River in Wilcannia, calling and taunting me, as if they'd always been there - why did I waste my time looking in other states?

These new subspecies were consolation prizes. All I really wanted was a Mukarrthippi Grasswren. The habitat was perfect and the weather was good. I thought August would be the right time of year, the birds would be getting ready to breed, and might be singing and more easily heard. But they simply refused to play ball. Here's what I thought was ideal habitat: spinifex, white mallee, some broom bush and red earth.

There were lots of lovely kangaroos (four species: Red, Eastern Grey, Western Grey and Euros) but far, far too many goats. An expensive predator-proof fence was under construction at the reserve and the park was about to be closed for a week for aerial bating for foxes. In my very limited time at Yathong, I didn't see any foxes. I saw several feral cats, a handful of pigs, and thousands and thousands of goats. There was a little evidence of rabbits, but not a great deal. And, of course, dozens of emus. The predator-proof fence will enclose an area of some 8000 hectares for soft release of captive bred endangered species, after all the exotic interlopers have been removed. It is clear that a lot of work and a lot of money has gone into this project.

Yathong Nature Reserve is a long way from everywhere. We stayed in Cobar, which, as I say, is an hour and a half's drive away. Cobar is a mining town. It calls itself 'Copper City' and is very proud of its open cut. There is a moving memorial to miners, and a museum, which I confess I did not enter. But under the eaves of the museum building, dozens of Fairy Martins had built their mud nests. I've often seen other birds occupying old Fairy Martins' nests, but on this occasion, I was surprised to see Red-rumped Parrots doing so. This is a most inferior photo (taken with my camera) but, if you squint and hold your tongue in the corner of your mouth, with a bit of imagination, you can just about see that there are parrots occupying a couple of nests.

Forgive me, I have to amuse myself somehow when the grasswren refuse to entertain me.