TORRES STRAIT MARCH 2016

I visited Boigu and Saibai in March 2016 with Richard Baxter.  His touring company, Birding Tours Australia, ran back-to-back trips to Torres Strait and I was on the second trip.  I hoped to see several new birds.  I expected to see Coconut Lorikeet, Red-capped FLowerpecker and Singing Starling.  I didn't dare to admit I was hoping for Gurney's Eagle, Uniform Swiftlet and Papuan Spine-tailed Swift.  I'd been to Boigu before (in January 2006) and had seen Collared Imperial Pigeon then.  On that occasion, it was unbearably hot.  So, on this occasion, I steeled myself against the heat and the mossies.  I expected some rain - it was the wet season after all - but for some reason I was not prepared for the ubiquitous, sticky, slippery mud.

Surprisingly, I did not find the heat or the mossies to be unbearable.   The only easy bird was the Singing Starling, which I saw on both Boigu and Saibai.  The Red-capped Flowerpecker required a bit of work, but I did have great views of a spectacular, colourful male.  Regrettably, I did not see Coconut Lorikeets or Spine-tailed Swifts.  By way of compensation, I did see:

• Zoe's Imperial Pigeon
• Coroneted Fruit Dove
• Uniform Swiftlet 
• Pacific Swallow and
• Gurney's Eagle.

Both Saibai and Boigu are mainly swampland, surrounded by mangroves and saltwater crocodiles.  Both islands were created from silt washed down New Guinea rivers.  Saibai is eight kilometres south of the New Guinea mainland.  It is about 22 kilometres long and 5 kilometres wide.  It has two villages with a total population of around 300.  Boigu, the northern most part of Australia, is just 6 kilometres from New Guinea.  It has an area of about 90 square kilometres and a population of a little under 300.

Mainland New Guinea seen from Boigu

There were 13 of us on the fishing charter Eclipse:  Richard with his nine birders, the captain, Joe, his wife, Bianca and Justin, the crew.  We were an intrepid little band.  We flew to Horn Island, spent the night in the Gateway Torres Strait Resort and boarded the boat on Sunday 12 March.  The Gateway Torres Strait Resort (which would more appropriately be called the Horn Island motel) was basic and very overpriced.  I paid $169 for my room and $27 for a plate of vegetables for tea (there was a smorgasbord, but nothing vegetarian).  In my room there was a television but no remote control - that is to say no way of turning it on.  There were noisy ceiling fans (which didn't always work) and most welcome air conditioning (which thankfully did work).

It was very hot on the afternoon I arrived on Horn Island as I struggled off to the sewerage ponds in search of Spotted Whistling Ducks.  Blue-winged Kookaburras didn't seem to mind the heat; nor did the sunbirds, Leaden Flycatchers or Dusky Honeyeaters.  Hornbill Friarbirds loudly proclaimed their appreciation of the conditions.  Alas! there were very few ducks on the sewerage ponds - some very wary Radjah Shelducks and a couple of Pacific Black Ducks.  No sign of whistling ducks anywhere.

Eclipse fishing charter

On Sunday we boarded Eclipse and set sail for Saibai, stopping briefly at Little Tuesday Island for those who hadn't yet added Ashy-bellied White-eye to their lifelists.  The tide was uncooperative and it was judged that the tinny could accommodate just four people.  Someone had to stay on board.  So I did not make it to Little Tuesday Island.

It rained overnight and the next morning when we went ashore on Saibai, it was exceptionally muddy.  We were all thinking of the Garganey seen here last week and plodded purposefully through the mud to the swamp.  The rain had converted the swamp into a lake.  Undaunted, we strode straight into the ankle-deep water, following Richard to the spot where the Garganey had been seen.

Garganey used to be seen every summer in Darwin, but I'm reliably informed that they have not appeared since the outbreak of avian flu in 2006.  Hence everyone was keen to add this bird to their lists.  Luckily the single bird (seen amongst hundreds of Radjah Shelducks) was a male.

We visited that swamp several times hoping that the Garganey would see fit to grace us with his presence.  He did not.

We saw neither snakes nor crocodiles and suffered our wet feet in silence.  Once, when we were standing around hoping that the Garganey would fly in to roost overnight, I managed to find some dry ground to stand on.  Luxury!  However, I was immediately infested with green ants and chose to return to the water.

Although we came home without our Garganey, that swamp did deliver two other very special birds - a Zoe's Imperial Pigeon and several Uniform Swiftlets.  On our first visit to the swamp, we flushed a Black Bittern, and stood wondering what else we might see.  Suddenly a peregrine appeared chasing a pigeon.  Necks were craned and cameras clicked.  The pigeon outflew the peregrine, who missed out on his meal.  Richard examined the photos and identified the pigeon as Zoe's Imperial Pigeon, the first record for Australia!  What a coup!

On another occasion, we stood watching and waiting, while storm clouds gathered overhead.  Steve Reynolds, a birder with fantastic eyesight plus a handy camera, suggested that swifts might precede the storm.  No sooner had he voiced this opinion than Fork Tailed Swifts (aka Pacific Swifts) appeared.  We all raised our binoculars.  Quite unmistakably, together with the Fork Tailed Swifts, were smaller birds, Uniform Swiftlets.  They flew above us for some time, giving everyone the opportunity to have a good look.  Thank you, Steve!

We saw the Pacific Swallows on the first day on Saibai.  We were standing watching various birds at some water in the township.  Suddenly I saw swallows.  I was too ignorant to know that this was exciting, but Richard's reaction soon put me right on that.  Our Welcome Swallows do not make it to Saibai, so these birds were interesting by definition.  Again, Richard's incredible identification skills came to the fore and we all had Pacific Swallows on our lists.

The Gurney's Eagle appeared on our final day on Saibai, as we were returning to Eclipse on the zodiacs.  Someone called 'raptor' and we all raised our binoculars.  Very obligingly, the large, dark bird flew towards the boat, giving us all excellent views.  At that stage, we'd been in the Torres Strait birding for three days, and most of us had seen six lifers.  Of course we congratulated ourselves, but in truth, our birding skills had little or nothing to do with it.

After Saibai, we sailed to Boigu.  This was where Orange-fronted Fruit Dove had been seen the previous week.  We went to the spot and waited.  We saw White-breasted Woodswallows, a Cicadabird, Dollarbirds, lots of sunbirds, and Varied Honeyeaters.  It was hot with few opportunities for a comfortable spot to sit down.  We returned to the same place the next morning at dawn and waited for a rarity to show itself.  Sure enough it did!  A single fruit dove flew over.  Again the cameras clicked and Richard identified a Coroneted Fruit Dove, another first for Australia!

We did extraordinarily well, although, in perverse birder's fashion, I did regret dipping on Coconut Lorikeet.  Some people saw them, proving that they are there, but not in big numbers.  I think everyone saw Collared Imperial Pigeons too, although, they too, were not in big numbers.

It was a great week.  We returned to the motel on Horn Island, which had seemed basic and expensive.  It was still expensive, but now, my room seemed luxurious.  So much space!  

Now, thinking of Torres Strait, I look back on the birds, not the mud and the mossies.  I have booked to go again in 2018.  Next time I am determined to get my Coconut Lorikeet.  And perhaps (if I am very lucky) a Garganey as well.

THE BOGEY BIRD REMAINS

I'm just back from my first scheduled birding trip for 2016:  to Kiama, to do a pelagic, hoping for a White-necked Petrel.  No luck, I'm afraid.  In July 2013, I remarked that I had five bogey birds - these are birds I have looked for again and again and again, with no luck.  Since then, I have managed to see four of those five miscreants.  Only the White-necked Petrel remains on the list.  This was my eleventh failed attempt to see it.  Perhaps I never will.

This was my first SOSSA trip out of Kiama on the boat Kato.  It was a good, safe boat, with plenty of seating.  However, I found it extraordinarily difficult getting on and off, even with three strong men assisting me.  Embarking involves climbing down a ladder (easy), crossing a short ramp (piece of cake), then jumping onto the unpredictably heaving boat over about a metre of surging waves (impossible!).  To think I achieved all that and still didn't see my White-necked Petrel!  In fact we had very few birds all day:  some shearwaters (including one very welcome Streaked Shearwater), some Grey-faced Petrels, a couple of albatross and one Arctic Jaeger.  I had just ten species on my list for the day.  Some people got excited about marlin, there was at least one whale sighted and several dolphins.

Eastern Bristlebird - a bird I did not see at Barren Grounds
Photo by Paul Gatenby

Birders must retain a positive outlook.  Eleven failed attempts to see a White-necked Petrel simply means I must try again.  And again.  In retrospect, it seems this whole trip was dogged by bad luck.  We stopped for coffee at Bowning on the way up.  I stood under a tree where a White-throated Gerygone was singing his pretty song at the top of his voice for all the world to hear.  He was not hiding.  Do you think I could see him?  I craned my neck.  I walked backwards and forwards.  I looked from all angles.  Roger laughed at me.  I fancy the bird did too.  My coffee got cold.  We left without seeing the gerygone.  

Also on the way to Kiama, we stopped at Barren Grounds, often a good birding spot.  Not for me.  We bumped into a couple of people also on the way to enjoy the Kiama boat trip the next day.  They saw Eastern Bristlebirds, Southern Emu-wrens and Beautiful Firetails.  I did not.  I saw an echidna and a flock of sittellas.

On the way home from Kiama, we spent a delightful couple of days at Gipsy Point.  It is impossible to be disappointed at Gipsy Point, even if you don't see Glossy Black Cockatoos, Turquoise Parrots or Tawny-crowned Honeyeaters.  Which I didn't.  I'm afraid the Bell Miners have taken over Double Creek Nature Walk, and I don't think I'll bother doing that again.  They create a monoculture in the bush just as our unwelcome Noisy Miners do in our suburban parks.  While at Gipsy Point, I did manage sea eagles, Azure Kingfishers and Hooded Plovers.

Driving back to Melbourne, I stopped for the Drummer Rainforest Walk (Rufous Fantail, Rose Robin), the Mackenzie River Rainforest Walk (nothing at all except one Crimson Rosella - not even the usually reliable Pied Currawongs!) and Cabbage Tree Flora Reserve (White-throated Needletails).

While I did not see my target species, and came home with a list of birds that I had not seen which was much longer than the list of birds that I had seen, it was nevertheless an enjoyable few days.  True.  What's more, I still have a reason to return.

SO THAT WAS JANUARY

What a great start to the year!  On New Year's Day I often visit Banyule and Wilson Reserve, in an attempt to get the year's birdlist off to a good start.  This year I didn't.  These treats are still in store for me in 2016.  But I ticked a lifer in January, something I don't often do, and what better start to the year could there be?

Apart from seeing the poor lost Paradise Shelduck at Lake Wollumboola, I spent a very pleasant hour at Trin Warren Tam-Boore (while Rog was at one of his interminable doctor's appointments) and visited Werribee twice.  Yes, I did see the Red-necked Phalarope, not very good views, but I saw it.  Better, I saw some great interstate birders who'd come to see the phalarope.  Three species of crakes put on a delightful display and Werribee was as wonderful as only Werribee can be.  

We saw thousands of ducks, but dipped on the Brolga.  We saw many raptors, but came home without a kestrel.  We had four species of terns and lots of waders.  The avocets were as elegant as ever, Banded Stilts overshadowed their smaller cousins and the Cape Barren Geese impressed everyone.  We had superb views of Little Grassbird, Striated Fieldwren and Australian Reed-Warbler.  I enjoyed the Brown Songlark and I always love zebbies.  One single Dusky Woodswallow greeted us on both our visits.

This despite the rain.  It seems to rain less at Werribee than it does in Melbourne.  Often I leave a wet Melbourne and enjoy a pleasant dry day at Werribee.  This year, both my visits so far have been wet.

Phil Jackson and me at the Borrow Pits, Werribee, photo by Dianne Lee

I managed 30 daily walks in January, seeing a total of 26 species.  I saw an average of 11 species on each walk:  the most was 16 and the least was 8.  I added just one new bird to my daily walk list.  It was a Little Eagle.  The Rainbow Lorikeets drew my attention to it, with their ear-piercing screeching.  It was quite high in the sky, seemingly oblivious to the noisy lorikeets.

In February, I plan to make yet another attempt on my last remaining bogey bird: the White-necked Petrel.  This is supposedly the easiest seabird on the Australian list that I have not seen.  I have driven (or, more correctly, Roger has driven) to New South Wales on at least a dozen occasions in an attempt to add this bird to my lifelist, but so far have had no luck.  Perhaps 2016 will be my year.

PARADISE SHELDUCK

What a great way to start 2016!  In January 2015, Lake Wollumboola presented me with a White-rumped Sandpiper.  Now, in January 2016, it has miraculously produced a Paradise Shelduck.

Twitchers had gathered at the lake (located near Nowra in New South Wales) to admire a Hudsonian Godwit.  For several days they overlooked an aberrant shelduck amongst the teal.  Then someone noticed that it was in fact a Paradise Shelduck from New Zealand.  HANZAB records that some Paradise Shelduck were seen on Lord Howe Island in 1950.  There are no previous confirmed mainland records.  

I heard about the shelduck last week, but decided I did not want to drive that far alone.  (My computer told me it was a little over 8 hours' drive.)  James Mustafa (who had driven up to see the Hudsonian Godwit, and noticed the odd shelduck but not paid it sufficient attention) said he was free on Monday afternoon.  We set off at 3.15.  We spent the night at Goulburn and recommenced our journey at 5.15 on Tuesday morning.  We were at Lake Wollumboola at 7.30 a.m.  It was raining, but we did not let this dampen our spirits.  A group of men identified themselves as birders by their cameras and binoculars.  They were standing, chatting under umbrellas, on the lake's edge, quite near the car park.  We rejoiced.  This must mean the shelduck was very close by.  We donned rain jackets, grabbed the scope, and hurried to join them.  

No, they said.  The duck was at the far end of the lake with the swans.  They did not know where the hudwit was.  We didn't bother to ask them why they were standing under umbrellas by a lake on a rainy Tuesday morning.  We set off immediately towards the swans.  It was then 7.45.

The rain hit our faces unkindly.  My precious notebook, inside my supposedly waterproof jacket pocket was soon quite wet.  So was I.  We skirted the nesting Little Terns, and tried to think positive thoughts.  I told James that, in circumstances like these, when I was with my father, he would recite poetry for me.  He'd learnt Browning's The Pied Piper of Hamelin as a child and had never forgotten it.  I also remember a ballad about Inch Cape Rock.  And others.  Surprisingly, James remembered some very beautiful poetry.  I had not expected that.  And it certainly took my mind off my wet feet, wet clothes and the heavy wet tripod I was lugging along for company.

We had our heads down, trudging into the rain.

'The rain will be behind us on the way back,' said James cheerfully.

I needed my entire concentration just putting one wet foot in front of the other.  I could not think of anything suitable to say and did not respond.  Suddenly James stopped.

'Look,' he said, grinning stupidly.

The Paradise Shelduck was grazing happily, not 100 metres in front of us.  It was in company with some Grey Teal,  a long way away from the swans at the far end of the lake.  It was 8 o'clock.  Really a very easy twitch.

We retreated to the cover of some nearby scrub.  I was happy with my January lifer.  James attempted to get a bit closer, using the scrub as a shield.  The teal soon flushed.  The shelduck honked, but did not fly.  James took a photo and then left the shelduck in peace.

Paradise Shelduck, photo by James Mustafa

Really, a fantastic start to the year.  Can 2016 continue this high standard?

SO MUCH FOR 2015

I did my morning walk today and suddenly realized that, as the forecast temperature for Melbourne tomorrow is 39, I probably won't be going for a walk, so that was most likely my final walk for 2015.  This morning I added a new bird to my walk list:  the Purple-crowned Lorikeet, making a total list of 39 species.  However, I should delete Willie Wagtail, which I used to see regularly on my north walk and White-plumed Honeyeater, which seems to have been successfully replaced throughout my walking area by Noisy Miners.  Other birds I added to the walk list this year are:  Straw-necked Ibis, European Goldfinch (probably escapees), Eastern Spinebill, Crimson Rosella, Little Corella, Collared Sparrowhawk and Musk Lorikeet.  The largest number of species I saw on any walk was 16, which I achieved in winter on a north walk.  I average around 10 species per walk.

Herald Petrel, photo by Judy Leitch

My birding objectives for 2015 had been modest:  I had aimed for five new birds.  I achieved four of these:  the Slender-billed Prion, Herald Petrel, Morepork and Nullarbor Quail-thrush.  Thanks to Graham Barwell, I also saw the White-rumped Sandpiper.  Yet again, I did not see the White-necked Petrel, which is a real bogey bird for me.  I was particularly pleased to see the prion at last, because I'd been looking for it for six years.  Persistence pays off.

In 2016, I'm planning a trip with Richard Baxter to Torres Strait and I'm hoping for Coconut Lorikeet and Red-capped Flowerpecker as well as whatever rarities care to present themselves.  In winter, I'm planning to drive west again, this time looking for a Naretha Bluebonnet and a Copperback Quail-thrush.  Of course, I will look again for the elusive White-necked Petrel.  People tell me that it's not a rare bird.  I'll have to luck onto it some time.  And then how will I justify my trips to Wollongong?

BIRDING IN THE ANTARCTIC

Since I was a small child, throwing streamers at the departing Nella Dan at the South Melbourne dock, I have wanted to go to the Antarctic.  Such romance!  One of the world's last frontiers.

At last I have achieved this childhood dream.  The Antarctic was both more and less than I'd dared to hope.  The scenery was far more spectacular than I'd expected.  The mountains were higher and more rugged, and they thrust skyward from the sea sometimes with no beach whatsoever.  Of course there was lots of snow and ice, but the colours were surprising.  The sky was blue; the water was black.  The ice was sometimes white, sometimes blue, sometimes transparent.  Icebergs came in all shapes and sizes.  As they melted slowly into the black water, an eerie milky almost iridescent green puddle surrounded the base of the iceberg.  As huge chunks of glaciers calved off, a sound like an explosion preceded the splash into the water.  Sometimes, pack ice of all sizes seemed to cover the sea for many kilometres in all directions.  The ship ploughed through this and it closed like a zipper behind us.

But I was on a birding trip, not a sight seeing tour.  Penguins are always personality plus birds:  often endearing, sometimes confiding, forever memorable.  We must have seen hundreds of thousands of them.  I saw six different species - more of them later.  I saw five species of albatross.  The most numerous was Black-browed, then Grey-headed, then Light-mantled Sooty, then Wandering, and finally, Southern Royal.  I had hoped to see Sooty Albatross, but we did not.  We saw lots of Cape Petrels, Blue Petrels, Antarctic Prions and Imperial Shags of various races.

Atlantic Petrel, photo by Mick Roderick

Antarctic Petrel, photo by Mick Roderick

For me the birding highlights were Atlantic Petrel, Antarctic Petrel, Southern Fulmars and ethereal Snow Petrels.  We saw just two Atlantic Petrels on the second day.  That was our quota.  We saw Antarctic Petrels on five consecutive days, but only ever one or two individuals.  By contrast, we saw many thousands of Southern Fulmars.  On one day alone we recorded over a thousand.  This was a bird I particularly wanted to see, as it has always eluded my Australian list.  I thought I saw one on my Macquarie Island trip:  a large white bird flying high in the sky.  Now that I've seen fulmars, I can say that my unidentified Macquarie Island bird was not a fulmar:  it did not have a large enough wingspan.  Fulmars are surprisingly pretty birds:  none of the illustrations I've seen do them justice.  The last of my special birds is the breathtaking Snow Petrel.  Everyone loves Snow Petrels.  I saw them on four days; the largest number on any day was a total of fifty birds.

Snow Petrel, photo by Mick Roderick

I scored just nine lifers on the Antarctic leg of my trip.

We boarded our ship, Aurora's Polar Pioneer, at Stanley in the Falklands.  We flew from Chile into the military airport, picked up our baggage and were immediately taken by bus to Stanley.  The countryside was not particularly attractive, but birds flew past the windows of the bus (lifers for me) as our guide gave commentary about the war.  I have no doubt that some people would find commentary about the war more interesting than unidentified strange birds.  Those people had not signed up for a birding tour. 

With no time at all for birding, I left the Falklands with 6 lifers:  the flightless Falkland Steamerduck; the easily identified Rock Cormorant (with a bright red face); Magellanic Oystercatcher; Rufous-chested Dotterel (which I spied while everyone else was photographing a shipwreck); Dolphin Gull (at the port as we left) and, very luckily, Correndera Pipit (which I saw from the bus as it flew).  I also saw a pair of caracara, whose identification remains unclear.  I thought they were Striated, but I'm told that's impossible and they must have been Southern.  Alas, I will never know.

South Georgia Pipit, photo by Mick Roderick

We left the Falklands on Saturday evening and arrived at South Georgia on Tuesday.  That day I achieved three lifers:  the most endearing and very naughty Snowy Sheathbill; South Georgia Pintails and South Georgia Pipit, the world's most southern passerine.  

We played around South Georgia until Saturday, visiting several memorable spots.  Everyone likes Salisbury Plain, which 250,000 King Penguins call home.  My favourite spot was Gold Harbour, where there were only 20,000 King Penguins, and also Gentoos, skuas, giant-petrels, intimidating fur seals and elephant seals.  The King Penguins trumpet loudly and mate rather roughly.  The fluffy brown chicks whistle 'Maroochydore.'  Many of the seals had pups, which were undeniably cute.  While we were on South Georgia, a photographer from another cruise ship was bitten by a fur seal on Salisbury Plain, and the boat returned to the Falklands to get proper medical attention for him.  The Drygalski Fjord was spectacular.  There was nowhere to land, but we cruised up the fjord while dozens of Antarctic Terns flew around the ship.

We learnt about the rat eradication program on South Georgia, which has cost 7.5 million pounds, and seems to have been successful.  We visited the museum at Grytiviken, where I enjoyed the display of birdlife.  They had birds, various eggs, and a burrow showing a diving-petrel.  Much to my amusement, it was a Common Diving-petrel, not the local South Georgian species.  Put this down to my ignorance.  I later learned that there are more Common Diving-petrels on South Georgia (3.8 million breeding pairs) than there are South Georgian Diving-petrels (2 million). The birds look identical at sea and I did not really expect to be able to say that I'd seen any new diving-petrel on this trip.  However, thanks to Mick Roderick and his terrific photos, we did confirm that we had seen South Georgian birds.  While we were in Grytiviken, we visited Shackleton's grave and toasted his memory.  We also had a celebratory Shackleton dinner, with the dining rooms decorated with the ship's flags and paper lanterns, made from biosecurity forms we had dutifully filled out!

Northern Giant-Petrel, photo by Mick Roderick

After we left South Georgia, we spent two days cruising until we arrived at Elephant Island.  We saw few birds during these two days, the most common being Antarctic Prion, followed by Cape Petrel.  There were lots of Blue Petrels on the first day, but very few thereafter.  We saw Wilson's Storm-petrels every day of the trip, but never in big numbers.  We also saw Black-bellied Storm-petrels, but not every day.  We saw Grey-backed Storm-petrels on three days only, a total of five birds.  White-chinned Petrels were with us all the time, until we arrived in the Antarctic.  We saw a few birds every day, up to fifty individuals.

On Gourdin Island, three penguins were breeding:  Chinstrap, Adelie and Gentoo.  There was constant braying:  the Chinstrap have the highest pitch, then the Adelies and the Gentoos the lowest.  A veritable cacophony.  

Chinstrap Penguin, photo by Mick Roderick

An Antarctic wind storm slowed us down and prevented us from landing at Cuverville.  Snow was pretty, as was the pack ice, but huge chunks of ice falling from the rigging was a little disconcerting.  I had planned to send postcards from Port Lockroy, but there was too much ice for us to land.

I rather liked the frozen waterfall on Deception Island, and certainly enjoyed the skuas having a hot thermal bath on Livingston Island.  

Drake Passage did not live up to its reputation.  We had very calm seas - nothing at all like my experience around Macquarie Island.  In fact, visiting The Horn was somewhat of an anticlimax.

I am delighted to have fulfilled my childhood dream, and finally visited the Antarctic.  The scenery was breath taking.  However, I confess that I was disappointed in the birdlife.  I had expected more birds and more species.  The picture of Light-mantled Sooty Albatross doing their mating ballet will remain with me forever, and the size of the penguin colonies is simply overwhelming, while individual birds that seem to want to make friends will be a treasured memory for years to come.

It was the experience of a lifetime.

BIRDING IN CHILE

I've just returned from a trip to South Georgia and the Antarctic, run by Aurora Expeditions.  For reasons best known to themselves, Aurora booked me into two full days in Chile on the way.  One day they offered a tour of Santiago; the other day they scheduled a winery tour, including a visit to the picturesque seaside township of Valparaiso.  I declined these offers.

I've never been to Chile before and the chance to spend two days birding was far more appealing.  I engaged a guide:  Fernando Diaz from Albatross Birding and Nature Tours.  He was excellent!  His English was very good, his catering was wonderful (table cloths, no less!) but, most important, his knowledge of birds was unsurpassed.

Before I left home I purchased a field guide:  Birds of Southern South America and Antarctica by Martin R. de la Pena and Maurice Rumboll.  I would not recommend it.  The text is inadequate and the illustrations are poor.  I later discovered that the book I should have bought was Birds of Chile by Alvaro Jaramillo.  It is very good indeed.

Thanks to Fernando (and not to the field guide) we saw 56 species in two days.  We were high in the Andes and the scenery was spectacular.  The first day we spent in the Yeso Valley and the second day we were on Faranelles Road.  The only two species I managed to get for myself in the city of Santiago were the Rufous-collared Sparrow and the Chimango Caracara.  These birds were both common just about everywhere we went.  Chilean Mockingbirds were common too, as were Moustached Turca and Long-tailed Meadowlarks, with their pretty red breasts.  I saw my first hummingbird on the first day:  the White-sided Hillstar.  Later we saw its nest, suspended from the ceiling of a cave.  Our first endemic was the not very inspiring Crag Chilia.  The beautiful Diademed Sandpiper-plover more than made up for that.

Diademed Sandpiper-plover

Birding in Chile, photo by Chris Melrose

As I knew absolutely nothing about the birds of Chile, I enjoyed the strange sounding names as much as the birds.  I'd heard of siskins, of course, but not Cinclodes, Tit-spinetails, Canasteros, Earthcreepers, Diuca-finches or Ground-tyrants.  So much to learn!

Great Horned Owl, photo by Chris Melrose

Highlights of the second day were a Giant Hummingbird, a Great Horned Owl, a couple of woodpeckers (Striped and Chilean Flicker) and a Black-chested Buzzard-eagle.  We saw plenty of Andean Condors.  We saw them both days, but had better looks on the second day.  And we saw a culpo fox, not in the least bit intimidated by us intruding onto his territory.

Andean Condors fly from the roofs of the buildings at the ski resort

Later, after we returned from the Antarctic, we cruised up the Beagle Channel and moored at Puerto Williams.  I saw almost as many new species here as I had in the past fortnight at sea.  From the boat, I admired a Ringed Kingfisher and a Black-crowned Night-Heron, while Magellanic Penguins swam by.  Both Chilean Swallows and Crested Ducks flew past and some sort of dark cinclodes played amongst the kelp on the shore.  Later, we went for a walk.  Black-faced Ibis flew overhead and a very handsome Thorn-tailed Rayadito squeaked in the bushes above.  In Punta Arenas, while looking unsuccessfully for Brown-headed Gulls, I saw Two-banded Plovers on the rocky shoreline, bringing my total Chilean bird count to 70 species.