I managed to cram in more birding in January 2021 than in the whole of the covid-affected 2020. Ebird tells me that in Jan 2020 I had submitted zero checklists, and only 3 for Jan 2019, while this year I got to 18 by 31st of Jan (about 160 species). Of course, we are still unable to travel abroad, so my Jan birding has been done locally, not even venturing out of the state (apart from one cheeky dash into Victoria).
There are a couple of reasons I’ve found myself doing a lot more birding in January. The first is that Adelaide Uni decided to shutdown for longer than usual over the Christmas break, including an extra week after New Year. This measure — termed “compulsory purchased leave” — was effectively enforced leave without pay, and therefore saved the University millions of dollars (needed because of the big budget hole created by a lack of international students). Not that I am rolling in cash, but time is often a bigger impediment than money for my birding, so I was eager to make sure I used this leave “effectively”. The second reason was that early in the month I discovered I have a inguinal hernia. Getting old and all that, I guess. But it has meant I am taking a rest from cycling until I can have it repaired (in mid-Feb) and recovered (mid- to late-March all being well). Instead of Saturday and Sunday mornings being devoted to a 50km sprint to the beach or a trundle up into the hills (followed by obligatory lattes), I’ve been trying to get out into the field and see some birds!
The birding year started for me on Jan 2 with a dash over the border to twitch some long-staying Ground Cuckooshrikes. GCSs are scarce and nomadic inhabitants of the arid interior and mallee, and I have never had the good fortune (or skill) to run into one on one of my several outback trips. Some locals have been lucky enough to encounter them not that far from Adelaide, but none of those birds has been twitchable; they’re found, they move on to some other location and are usually not seen again. These Vic birds were different; a pair had decided to make some of the open mallee of Wyperfield National Park their home. They were found just before lock-down, and were still present some months later when internal travel restrictions in Vic were lifted, and numerous Melbourne birders went up to see them. Although closer to Adelaide than Melbourne in Victoria’s far north-west, Wyperfield remained out-of-bounds to SA birders until very late in 2020 because the state border was closed. Amazingly, when the state border did open, the birds were still present, with a second brood of chicks just fledging. I decided to get over there pronto before they all decided to move on.
2-3 Jan
I dillied and dallied about the house on 2nd, and finally got on the road at about 3pm. The familiar and scenic route, up into and beyond the Adelaide Hills along the SE Freeway, slipped by and pretty soon I was turning onto the aptly named mallee highway, heading due east through quaint, sleepy farming towns with quirky names like Sherlock (no shit!), Geranium, Lameroo and Pinaroo. My personal favourite is over the border into Vic: Boinka! From the SA-Vic border it was about another hour to another amusingly named village of Underbool, where I turned off south. Google Maps said this was the most direct route to Gunners Track in Wyperfield, and though Tim Dolby had warned me I might be better off going a longer route in via Patchewollock (another great mallee town name!), I decided to risk my AWD soft-roader on the sandy track. It might have struggled through some of the deeper sand-dunes if it had been wet but I kept the foot down and slid and skidded the Kluger through the deepest sand, pulling up at the spot that Tim had suggested (exactly where an ebird hotspot has appeared) 20 minutes later. I still had about 2 hours of light left.
The sparse, skanky vegetation next to the now-dry lake bed was evidently attractive to a limited but high-quality set of species. Almost immediately I heard the GCSs and tracked down first a very young just-fledged bird, and as I explored a bit further, the rest of the family. Though I believe as many as 7 birds were present, I could only count 6 at any one time. While following these birds around the scrub, a flock of Cockatiel and a couple of groups of Greater Bluebonnet flew by.
Very satisfied with a successful twitch, and remarkably still with some daylight to play with, I had to make a choice: move on, perhaps to Hattah-Kulkyne and camp there, or stay in Wyperfield. I opted for the latter and trundled slowly to Snowdrift Picnic and Camping spot about 5km from the GCS spot. The campsite nestles in the lee of an impressive snow-white sand-dune. I set my swag, cracked a 150 lashes, and cranked up the gas stove to make some corned-beef hash as the sun set behind the dune. I even scrambled up the steep dune — literally two steps forward, one slide back — to admire the view.
Overnight the huge outback sky was filled with dry lightning and by morning it was looking like rain might set in; great for the countryside, not so good for this birder. I left the campsite soon after first light, heading east to Patchewollock then north towards Ouyen.
As I drove north past Ouyen towards Hattah it did start to drizzle and from then the rain barely abated all morning. Had it been dry I might had stayed longer in Hattah, but I was only there for about 2 hours. This was enough time to track down a Striated Grasswren on the Nowingi Track, but I decided to not to look for Mallee Emuwren (which I have seen there twice before) and instead explore Murray-Sunset, another of the big mallee parks in NW Victoria which I have never visited. However I aborted this plan too. After turning off the bitumen at Murrayville, the further I went, the muddier and less stable the 4WD track became. Still 50km from my intended birding spot, I nearly came to grief on one bend as my vehicle refused to turn, preferring to barrel straight on towards a bank of red earth and mud and an imposing and rather immobile mallee tree. Luckily the tread bit just in time and though I skidded up the bank a bit, the Kluger and I escaped mostly unharmed. The same could not be said for my underpants; I’ll just say that the track was not the only place I left skid-marks and leave it at that. This close call was enough to discourage me from venturing further and I turned around, crossing back into SA on minor roads before joining the mallee highway again at Pinaroo.
Back in Adelaide on 3rd, I was still hopeful I could use the next week for birding, maybe even going to far north Queensland for a few days. That had seemed like a great option when I first thought of it in October, but uncertainty over covid and family plans meant I made no booking. Now, just a day out, the cost had sky-rocketed and I had noone who had the time/inclination to accompany me. I resolved to stay local.
5 Jan
First up, the morning of 5th Jan I drove down to Laratinga, a local wetland in the hills about 25min from home. Laratinga is an awesome spot for crakes when the water levels are right, but it is also supposedly reliable for Crested Shrike-tit. Reliable is a word others have used — I have seen CST there only once in about 40 visits. Nevertheless sightings seemed to be even more reliable than usual, and encouraged by some more specific timely gen from local birding friend Eddie Smith, I decided to go for it. Like the GCSs this turned out to be another relatively “easy” twitch once on site. I found a family of 3 CST within about 20 minutes of arriving and was able to get some other birders on to it (some of whom were ticking it off as a lifer). I was even able to grab some passable images of the CST and other locals for my Local Birding album.
5-7 Jan
Laratinga was just an appetiser for the main event (which makes it sound much grander than it actually was). Back home I packed the swag and camping gear into the Kluger again and late afternoon headed off for 2 more nights in the mallee. My plan as I set out from home was to go Lake Gilles on the Eyre Peninsula (where I still need Copperback Quailthrush), but as I drove north on Port Wakefield road I could see the trees bending over as the car was buffeted by strong winds and I stopped to double-check the forecast. Hmmm — a strong wind weather warning was in place for Port Augusta, the closest big town to Gilles, added to which I was still 4 hours drive away, so I’d be arriving after dark. A hasty change of plan saw me cut cross-country to join the Sturt Hwy, and I rolled into Gluepot a couple of hours later.
The change of plan meant I was arriving in the light, but like my GCS twitch of a few days earlier, I opted to set camp and have a beer, rather than squeeze the last drops of sunlight for birding. I had the Babbler Campground and the superb mallee sunset to myself.
The next two days were unseasonally cool for the riverland mallee in January, which was good news for me. I drove the tracks, strolled through the mallee (mostly without getting lost), and sat in various hides, picking up most if the species I wanted and some less expected ones too. The whole area was alive with Woodswallows; I must’ve come across 1000s of Masked Woodswallow in dozens of large flocks as well as smaller numbers of White-browed. Other birds seemed to be in good numbers in the same areas, perhaps using the Woodswallows as a loud and conspicious sentinels.
Soon after dawn I walked the 4km from the visitor centre to the Whistler Hide, the highlight of which was a very vocal Southern Scrub-robin. After a long wait in the hide with two other birders (volunteer warden and someone who’d driven in from Waikerie very early morning), the January star attractions of Whistler Hide arrived. A group of 6 Regent Parrots were very wary but eventually came down to drink and we fired off our cameras while the sweet morning light lasted.
Later I drove Track 7 in the north-east of the reserve to look for some Black-eared Miner that I’d been tipped-off about by David Harper. The identification information in the various hides in Gluepot is a bit ambiguous and confusing, so though I saw some birds that seemed to have more BE than Yellow-throated about them, I left not really certain I’d seen a “pure enough ” bird. BE Miner would not be a tick because I had seen one with Yellow-throateds back in 2009 with Peter Waanders when I visited Gluepot for the first time. My main mission today was to find one for myself and get a photo of a reasonably pure bird. Day 1 did not fulfil that brief.
Nevertheless the birding was good almost throughout the entire day. Long Dam was excellent with lots of Crimson Chats (all female/juv unfortunately) and White-winged Fairywrens, and likewise Picnic Dam delivered with my best ever encounter with Pied Honeyeater. Along the way I flushed a probably Painted Buttonquail (never to be relocated). A walk around the airstrip yielded a sweet Redthroat and Fairywrens, but not Painted Honeyeater which had been reported a week or so back, so I have only ever seen one of this nomadic stonker, on my stellar Hay Plain day way back in 2013.
I ended the day with an evening vigil at the Homestead Dam, which still held a bit of water. Lots of Common Bronzewing were very warily approaching the dam edge, behaving like Sandgrouse in Africa or the Middle-east, but my hopes for a Spotted Nightjar coming to drink were dashed by the strong breeze and cool temperature.
The dawn chorus and first rays of light woke me the next morning, both Australian Owlet-nightjar and the drawn out downward whistle of a Black-eared Cuckoo drifting across the campsite to my swag. Before breakfast I tried to track down either but came away empty-handed (to go with my empty stomach). I had no really new pressing targets so I drove back to find the Miners again and this time was able to find one or two birds that showed the two key features needed: sub-moustachial features darker than throat, and weak contrast between rump and tail. I still struggled to get a photo, but as I wandered through the mallee either side of Track 7 I had several flyovers of small flocks of Budgies and some Cockatiel. Crested Bellbirds were more cooperative so I was able at least to get a record shot, even if I was looking into the light, and instead of flying directly over at speed, a few Cockatiel decided to stop and pose long enough to allow me to scoot to the “lightward” side. On the edge of Picnic Dam I was excited to find 4 Major Mitchell’s Cockatoo, one of the usual but often tricky targets for Gluepot visitors.
Other regular mallee birds were also in more evidence this morning (I guess I was out in the bush instead of in the hide for the best hours), especially Robins; I had Red-capped and Hooded, and Jacky Winter.
Before leaving I decided to have one more crack at the Miners and was finally able to bag an image that clearly show the key features:
16 Jan
Back at work on 11th Jan I had to wait until the weekend for my next birding. I joined up with Mike Potter for a trip to Tolderol and various other sites south of Adelaide. Mike is doing a big year in SA to celebrate turning 60, and was happy for me to tag along. His efforts are also bringing some refreshment to my own local birding, and creating opportunities as well — so perhaps I should add #teammike2021 as a third formal reason for my extra birding in January (thanks Mike!). We failed to find his main target at Tolderol, Pectoral Sandpiper, but we did bag three Long-toed Stints and a couple of White-winged Black Tern. We also ran into a various members of the local birding community including several of the younger brigade — this was perhaps the first time I have ever found myself raising rather than lowering the average age of an SA birding group.
Sunday and I decided to pay a visit to Browns Rd near Monarto, just to go back to one of my regular spots. There was nothing out of the ordinary, but I did have some nice views of a family of Hooded Robin, and there was an Owlet-nightjar sitting vigil at the edge of one of the hollows I often check. Just a nice stroll around one of my favourite spots.
20 Jan
I had Pots’ Big Year to thank for a very short wait until the next birding. Midweek, a group of us were invited up to a farm near Owen where Quail, Button-quail and various nightbirds are regular. We met at the Owen pub for a beer and pizza, and I reflected that this was a fairly rare opportunity to enjoy the company of birding mates. Often I am happy enough birding on my own, but one of the reasons we do it is for the craic. After dinner as it was getting dark we drove out to Warnesy’s farm and piled into the back of his ute, trundling around various fields and scrubs standing up sweeping our torches and flood-lights around.
Immediately the farm’s local family of beautiful, ghostly Barn Owls were in evidence. Sadly we failed to find a Little Button-quail, which was my main hope; Mike W explained he’s seen lots a few weeks before during harvest, but as they had dispersed over the intervening weeks he was now seeing more Stubble Quail than Button-quail. We flushed several, Stubble Quail from the car and were able to track one down in the torches so that when we arrived to where it had landed we were able to get nice views on the deck. The rest of the night we found a few Boobook and ended with a solitary Tawny Frogmouth, expertly spotlighted by Craig as we steamed back to the farm to pick up our own vehicles. I finally dropped into bed around 2.45am, exhausted but pleased with the night’s haul even if we did dip on LBQ.
23-24 Jan
The following weekend I picked up Paul Coddington for some birding down south. Tolderol was pretty quiet — we re-found the WWBT but dipped again on Pec. I added Lewin’s Rail to my ebird year list via a heard only record. Paul was keen to try for Little Tern so we headed to Murray Mouth on Hindmarsh Island, where at least one or two typically hang out with Fairy Terns each summer. Out at the sand-spit where the terns regularly roost (tern spit-roost??) we found Crested, Caspian and Fairy Terns, in decreasing order of quantity.
Then I came across a bird with a black bill-tip and more prominent, longer black eye-stripe; this might be Little! We left reasonably happy, though needing to check our ID against the literature. In retrospect, and after checking ABG and a few other sources, we were less convinced about this bird. Opinion on the interweb has been divided, though most are plumping for Little on the basis of the black tip, greater amount of black in front of the eye (though the eye-stripe does not reach the lores) and darker primaries. Interesting bird (see pics below).
To rub salt in the wound created by this uncertainty — I generally want to be certain I have enough on a bird to tick it, whether for a life bird or just for the Australian list — Paul later discovered that he’d actually photographed a definite Little Tern (lifer for him)! I was of course gripped off by this, and it prompted me to try again Sunday morning. Finally third time lucky I was actually able to add Little Tern definitively to my Aussie list. It was set to be a scorcher and was already 34 degrees at 9am when I arrived, but I very quickly picked up some fishing Fairy Terns on the far side of the channel. Although distant, one bird clearly showed the dark outer primaries; now I have seen and taken note, I realise is a very prominent and diagnostic field mark, visible at range (assuming I discount the vanishingly small chance of Saunder’s).
Later I found possibly same bird near the roost of Crested Terns which were flushed before I could get a photo by a selfish couple and their f***ing dog (which should not have been on the beach at all) who decided it was their right to walk straight through the roost because it was on the shoreline rather than give the birds a comfortable berth which would have involved them walking a few extra metres up the beach. Fortunately I am a patient and tolerant kind of guy, and I was not pressed for time. I also hate the kind of conflict that challenging this behaviour can bring, probably making me feel much worse all day and having zero impact on their behaviour. So despite being incensed, I kept quiet and waited. And waited some more. And eventually picked it up again in flight before it finally landed back on the shoreline again.
26 Jan
Out of the blue on Australia Day I got a message from Craig Greer asking if I fancied a trip to Port Clinton for some wader watching and photos. I had no plans that would get in the way so jumped at the chance, and we drove north from his new gaff in Norwood the 90 mins to get to Clinton. We birded a few regular spots at Clinton where some Sharpies and Greenshank posed in sweet evening light. More willing to get wet and muddy, and with his hefty but ultra-sharp f2.8 lens Craig slithered through the mangroves and grabbed some superb shots, whereas I stayed upright and dry, and managed these two:
Before we lost the light we drove a further 10km south to Macs Beach, passing Price Saltfields on the route. It would be great to be able to go into Price because waders are attracted to the brackish pans, and it has turned up some cracking rarities in the past, though sadly before my time in SA. Access has been denied since 2013 when a birder managed to get his car stuck while twitching a Buff-breasted Sandpiper. The story goes that he was so over-eager to get on the bird, he pulled up and forgot to put his handbrake on, his car rolled down off the bund, and had to be pulled out by the staff. This was just the excuse the company wanted to put a complete ban on access. Who knows what goodies we may have missed, but any of the wader vagrants might have been there! I can dream: Hudwit, BBSP, Dowitchers, Redshanks,…
At high tide, Macs Beach is hardly worthy of the name, being mainly just a huge bank of dead sea-grass with the gulf waters lapping at the edge.
Nevertheless to us it seemed it was pretty attractive to the local avifauna: we waded our way north through the sea-grass towards where birds were congregated and found 100s Crested Terns, 1000s Red-necked Stint, a few Curlew Sandpiper and several Great Knot. There were probably other goodies even further north alongside Price, but we had neither the time nor the energy. I tried for photos of the Great Knot, deciding that I too should get wet in the hope of creating nice shallow depth-of-field bokke, and hopefully approach with a low profile. But Knots (both Great and Red) seem to have a knack of moving imperceptibly away without ever seeming to have acknowledged your presence; I got closer to the Stints and Curlew Sandpipers, but the Knots were always the same distance away!
Back at the car I waited around while Craig went to retrieve his sandals which he’d left on the beach. He contemplated lugging his weighty camera gear just in case something else popped up, but opted against it. Minutes later an Eastern Osprey flew directly over my head, and I shouted out to Craig, also squeezing off a few images. I heard panting in the bushes and Craig emerged, gasping for breath, just in time for the Osprey to drift out of sight.
30-31 Jan
In some respects the final weekend of the month was not dissimilar to the previous one. Once again I picked up Paul C (his car was written off after son, recently on his Ps, managed to tip it on its side in a bizarre, low-speed crash — it’s a long story…) and this time we headed north up the new freeway. The tide was too high and the wind too strong for us to find any decent birds at Thompsons Beach, but inland at Pengilly we stomped around the scrub for a couple of hours, flushing a few “quail” in the process. It’s nice when a plan comes off and we’d deliberately gone here thinking it might be good for post-harvest quails. I was especially keen for Little Button-quail to rectify the dip of 16th. Although I failed to get enough on any of the birds we saw early on — other than the whirr of wings and an impression of small size, which can be very deceptive with no reference –we persisted, and later in the morning three birds flushed from under a bush near my feet. As the first took off I was able to follow it long enough to see it was indeed small and showed the diagnostic white flanks of LBQ. Another bird flushed from the same place in the opposite direction and I saw nothing (Paul saw this one) and then a third that was clearly bigger, rounder and darker and showed no white — a Stubble Quail. I returned alone the next day hoping to find LBQ on the deck but only succeeded in finding no fewer than 10 Stubble Quail. It was still an excellent morning, and I managed some reasonable images of two of my favourite raptors, Black Falcon and Black-shouldered Kite.
