birding – Page 17

Khao Yai …

Khao Yai was the first National Park created in Thailand. It covers an area of 2,168 square kilometres of forest and grassland and together with some surrounding protected areas form the Dong Phayayen-Khao Yai Forest Complex World Heritage Site which provides habitat for another impressive array of wild creatures.

The morning mist, the splendour of the scenery, the certainty of seeing at least some of the wildlife and the fact that it’s just a three hour drive from the outskirts of Bangkok ensure that it is a well visited park. Weekends and holidays are best avoided, but if you have an interest in wildlife a visit at some stage is an absolute must. The Rockjumper birding tour I was on spent two full days in the park. Longer would be better, wouldn’t it always. If you are visiting independently here are a couple of resources that might help, thainationalparks.com and thaibirding.com.

Birding highlights included Silver Pheasant, Blue and Eared Pitta, Vernal Hanging Parrot, various Barbets, Woodpeckers, nightjars and the Collared Owlet. A few birds were happy to pose …

Mammals that we encountered included Black Giant and Variable Squirrels, Muntjac and Sambar Deer. The Sambar are unphased by the photographer’s close approach.

Pig-tailed Macaques are a certainty, Gibbons much less so. There are two species present – Pileated, which we heard and White-handed which we were lucky enough to see.

This guy was accompanied by his wife and baby. The females are brown, the babies, of course, are adorable.

No matter how big you are a few metres into the forest and you’re virtually invisible. Last time I was on foot this close to an elephant I was running for my life (and Asian Elephants deserve the same respect that African ones do). However half a dozen people had already walked past it without it showing any sign of irritation and, in the forest, I was virtually invisible too … I hoped.

Cross country to Khao Yai …

A long day in the bus. The Thais drive on the left, just like we do in Oz, how sensible of them.

Our transport consisted of two absolutely luxurious minibuses. More importantly, they were driven by the nicest chauffeurs you could ever hope to meet. Tiang and June, as well as getting us efficiently around the place, twice a day they would set up a circle of chairs and provide us with our 11 am little lunch and afternoon tea. Served with a big smile, sometimes even with chocolate. Nice people.

We took a little detour back to the salt flats, the Nordmann’s Greenshank was unfinished business. It took two stops to find a flock of them. The Spoonbilled Sandpiper is a super sexy bird, I have even seen it featured on tee-shirts, I doubt that the greenshank will ever be so honoured. To be sure that you are looking at one, not a Common Greenshank, you need to observe its two tone bill, and note that its legs are slightly shorter. It has but one saving grace – it’s rare! Tick.

Next stop was a duck pond at Bangtaboom. Here we found a plain white stork and a few other water birds. Quite a drab stork really. If it wasn’t so hideously rare it would hardly be worth looking for. Milky Stork, tick.

We skirted Bangkok, stop start, stop start and continued eastwards. As dusk approached we made a very brief stop at Sabkaret Reseach Station to say hi to the Siamese Fireback. It’s a very attractive Pheasant. It could grace a tee-shirt, no trouble.

We arrived at our accommodation after dark.

The best birding is early morning. Breakfast was early, we would be on our way before dawn. It was a feature of the entire tour that we almost never saw our accommodation in daylight.

We saw the sunrise in Sab Sadao. This is an area of dry deciduous woodland a habitat that is uncommon in Thailand and more like parts of Cambodia which isn’t all that far away. And that explains why we were there, a different habitat brings a new suite of birds. Memorable among them was the Red-breasted Parakeet.

We also saw a couple of other sights that stick in the memory. A ute came past taking some kids to school. There were half a dozen girls in the tray. There was a canopy over that and half a dozen boys perched on top of that. And then there was this …

Cock fighting is legal in Thailand. Good fighting birds change hands for huge sums of money and fortunes are gambled on the outcomes of contests. These birds are merely training, the spurs on their legs are bandaged to prevent injury. In fact, the spurs are often covered in competition as well. In Thailand it is not the custom to fit blades on the feet.

Next stop was a wetland at Lam Pra Elerng. Whilst we were watching the water birds some Brown-backed Needletails swept through. I was commenting that in Oz, Needletails, in our case White-throated Needletails, generally travel with storm fronts when the rain started. Moments later I was wetter than the ducks in front of me.

Kaeng Krachan …

Thailand’s largest national park covering an area of 2914 km² and just part of an even larger forest that extends west into Myanmar and north and south in Thailand. According to the Thai National Parks web page it is home to at least 420 species of bird, 57 mammals and about 300 species of butterfly.

Just to conjure with some delicious possibilities, Tiger, Leopard, Asian Elephant, White-handed Gibbon and Great Hornbill are all here, although you might not want to meet all of them on a dark road. The possibility exists … there are three campsites!

The Great Hornbill has to be the signature bird, it may measure as much as 122 cm from tip of bill to tip of tail, that’s almost exactly 4 feet in the old money. Its wing beats can often be heard before the bird is seen. It’s a hole nester and therefore needs a lot of forest with a lot of very big, very old trees. It’s why places like Kaeng Krachan are so very precious.

That’s right, my photo was lousy but it inspired me to have a go with the crayons.

Spent three days here and divided the time between different elevations. The birding was excellent.For me the hornbills were the stars of the show, besides Great there were also Oriental Pied, Wreathed and Tickell’s Brown. Hanging Parrots, Barbets and especially the odd Trogon threw in some colour …

Occasionally the watchers were themselves under scrutiny …

Other primates we encountered were Banded Langurs and Stump-tailed Macaques. White-handed Gibbons were often heard calling but stayed out of sight.

Some of the 300 butterflies were about. I would be grateful to anyone who can identify this one, just drop me a comment …

Even large creatures can be hard to find in a dense forest, there was plenty of evidence of elephant but neither they or the tigers put in an appearance. But I am not prejudiced against smaller things …

I have a reasonable faith in my identification of this little beauty as Pyrops candelaria. In the distant past it was thought that they emitted light from their proboscis. Sadly, this is not true.

And my chances of identifying a Skink aren’t especially great but this is probably Dasia olivacea in a confiding mood …

Three days amassed a good bird list but in many ways just scratched the surface. I would love to go back.

The serious birdwatcher should check out Nick Upton’s page for some great information on how to get the best from their visit or book through Rockjumper.

Pak Thale and Laem Phak Bia …

Following my walk in the park it was back to the Maruay Gardens Hotel to meet the group I would be traveling with and our guides Uthai Treesucon, Thai ornithologist extraordinaire, and Keith Valentine, managing director of Rockjumper Birding Tours. I will mark their report cards later.

The tour began on the morrow with a drive to Pak Thale and its world famous salt works. This is located about 125 km southwest of Bangkok on the shores of the Gulf of Thailand.

Serious birdwatchers will want to visit norththailandbirding.com and hbw.com.

This area is one of the best places anywhere to see the shorebirds of the Asian Flyway. They mostly breed way to the north and escape the winter by long migration to warmer climes. Top of our list of desirable species were Spoon-billed Sandpiper and Nordmann’s Greenshank.

We amassed a list of 43 species (not all shorebirds) including the Spoonie but not including the Greenshank.

Fair views were had of the Spoon-billed Sandpiper but I got nowhere near close enough to get a good photo. I pinched this one from arkive.org who are keen to conserve the creature and would be pleased if you dropped by their website, especially if you made a donation. The one in the picture is in breeding plumage, in winter they lack the colour. The easiest way to pick them out of a hoard of little waders is to look for the characteristic side to side feeding motion of their heads, very similar to the much bigger and not closely related Spoonbills, convergence of form and function, I suspect.

The upside of group travel is that accommodation, transport and local knowledge are all in the package. The downside is the little time available to sit and wait for that magic photo. Snatch what you can …

Once finished in the salt pans it was on to the Laem Phak Bia sandspit. To get there we took a boat not unlike the one below down a mangrove lined creek out to the sea, making a wet landing on the spit.

Note the engine mounted onboard with the propeller on a long shaft. This seems to be the standard arrangement in Thailand. It enables operation in shallow water and provides good maneuverability.

Our main objectives were Chinese Egret, Malaysian Plover and the enigmatic White-faced Plover, currently a distinctive subspecies of Kentish Plover but may one day be elevated to full species status. We found them all and a few terns and shorebirds as well.

From there it was back into the minibus and on to Kaeng Krachan, Thailand’s largest national park.

A Day in Bangkok …

My Rockjumper cap had arrived in the mail before leaving Australia. I put it on as I stepped into the outside world from the sequestered realm of Customs and Immigration. This, I hoped would improve my chances of finding my limo driver.

Bangkok is a sprawling traffic jam imprisoning some 11 million souls. Skyscrapers of concrete and glass reach up, entwined by tollways, overpasses and bridges. New roads are being built on stilts over old roads desperately trying to keep up with the needs of a populace who all just bought a nice new car. As the Rough Guide puts it …

… under the shadow of the skyscrapers you’ll find a heady mix of chaos and refinement, of frenetic markets, snail’s-pace traffic jams and hushed golden temples, of dispiriting, zombie-like sex shows and early-morning alms-giving ceremonies.

It was early morning when I arrived at the Maruay Gardens Hotel. Way too early to check in but they were kind enough to store my luggage and let me use the wifi. Good old Google Maps showed a park not too far away although the receptionist thought my chances of finding a whole load of birds there were pretty low. I took a taxi to Chatuchak Park, joggerland.

There were a lot of people but I felt really, really special as the only one carrying binoculars …

but, hey, it was worth it. There were birds, mammals, reptiles, trees, grass and a lake. It was a gentle introduction to the birds of Thailand with all day to figure out what they were …

I managed to identify 18 species of bird, a couple more slipped through to the wicket keeper. Some Squirrels were happy to pose and a couple of reptiles were about although one was the introduced Red-eared Slider. I was far more impressed with this one, especially when it began stalking some pigeons …

Birding Thailand …

I’ve been back about a month.

It was a Rock Jumper birding tour and therefore a pretty hardcore, monomaniacal trip but if your eyes are open for birds and your mind isn’t closed to all else you get to see quite a lot.

Thailand sits in the centre of the Indochinese peninsula, it is in the northern hemisphere and entirely within the tropics. It has a land area of 513,120 square kilometres (198,120 sq mi), and a population of about 66 million people. The landform is essentially that of a large bowl, a central fertile and mainly flat region embraced by mountains to the west, north and east. The Malay peninsula juts out to the south separating the Gulf of Thailand from the Andaman Sea.

You can find an interactive map and regional information at Rough Guides, not a bad place to start if your interests are more main stream than mine!

In broad outline there are three seasons to the year. Mid May to mid October is rainy because of the south-west monsoon. This is followed by the north-east monsoon, allegedly this is winter, characterised by milder temperatures and, for most of the country, less rainfall. This lasts until mid February when summer begins. The result for most of the country is a Tropical Savanna climate, the Malay peninsula is considerably wetter and warmer, the mountains considerably cooler. Summer temperatures commonly range up to 40°C, outbreaks of cold air from China can bring winter temperatures down to zero.

My visit lasted three weeks and took me to all points of the compass, to the top of Doi Inthanon at 2,565 metres (8,415 ft) and the Pakthale saltworks at sea level. I got to look a wild Asian Elephant in the eye, see Gibbons swing past at close range and encounter 490 species of bird. It was a very successful trip.

Thailand is a very complex place, presently a military dictatorship with a constitutional style monarchy. As you drive around it has some of the look and feel of other parts of tropical Asia but it is clearly more affluent than say Vietnam. Modern industrial buildings sit alongside beautiful Buddhist temples, apartment blocks and modern houses alongside bamboo shelters and market stalls. Pictures of the former king are everywhere, on billboards, public offices and private enterprises large and small. The present king not quite so much but that may change once the period of mourning for his father ends in October.

The other day in Bangkok someone detonated a pipe bomb causing several people to suffer ringing in the ears. It’s not that long ago that tear gas was required to keep the Red Shirts and Yellow Shirts apart, but as a visitor the impression is of a modern, orderly and safe society.

To be continued …

Farina …

After leaving Burra our route took us through Peterborough and Hawker and then north along the corridor between the Flinders Ranges and Lake Torrens.

Edward Eyre came this way on his first South Australian expedition in 1839 and then explored the region more thoroughly in 1840. Lake Torrens is an enormous salt lake stretching 250 km north south with an average width of 30 km. Eyre tried to cross it with horses but found it impossible. From the height of the Flinders Ranges he saw more of the same shiny white mud to the east and indistinctly to the north. Forced to retreat by lack of water he took with him the erroneous belief that Lake Torrens was horse-shoe shaped blocking passage to the north.

John McDouall Stuart from 1858 onward led six expeditions that culminated in the first return crossing of the continent. Stuart’s track runs west of Lake Torrens, we were taking a short cut and would intersect it in due course.

At Lyndhurst we made a brief side trip up the Strzelecki Track to search for the Chestnut-breasted Whiteface. One of our party had not seen this elusive little bird despite several past attempts so we took him to a spot where Gayle and I had had success on previous occasions. We searched on foot until the afternoon wore on. And he didn’t see it once again.

We arrived at Farina as the sun neared the horizon.

A number of things had conspired to draw people north from Adelaide. As dry as it is, cattle and sheep can be grazed in the hinterland, a railway is a good means to transport them to market. The route chosen for the new fangled telegraph that would connect South east Australia to the outside world was Mr Stuart’s route from Adelaide to the north coast. And of course, the science was settled, plough the earth, plant your crops and the rain would come, a theory promoted by scientists of the day such as the noted American climatologist Cyrus Thomas. The settlement here was founded in 1878 as Government Gums. Its name was changed to Farina to reflect the intention to grow wheat. It grew to reach a peak population of approximately 600 in the late 1800s. It was the rail head for a time. In its heyday, the town had two hotels (the Transcontinental and the Exchange) and an underground bakery, a bank, two breweries, a general store, an Anglican church, five blacksmiths, a school and a brothel. No wheat was grown. All that remains today are the ruins and the cemetery.

We pulled into the camp site. The first thing to catch my attention was a magnificent Black-breasted Buzzard. Life can impose some cruel choices upon us. With just minutes of the photographer’s golden hour remaining … the ruins or the bird?

As it happened there would be a gibbous moon …

and another golden hour in the morning

but I actually prefer the night shots.

I thoroughly recommend the Farina camp ground, showers, clean toilets, scenic and just $5 per person per night.

Owl …

Owls have acquired symbolic meaning at different places and at different times. In the west we tend to think of the wise old owl and that was true for the ancient Greeks as well. The owl was the companion of Athena, goddess of wisdom and also associated with wealth. But they don’t always give folk the same impression, back in the dark ages they were associated with witches, black magic and evil doings.

The Japanese for owl is fukuro 梟. Other kanji can be combined to render the same syllables. One way is 福来郎 which means luck will come. Another way is 不苦労 which means no suffering. So, by a play on words, the owl offers good fortune and protection. It is a popular lucky charm in Japan.

About a dozen species of owl have been found in Japan. In a short visit you obviously aren’t going to find too many. The easiest seems to be this one …

They tend to roost at the entrance of a sizable tree hollow. Suitable hollows are fairly uncommon. Some roosts are well-known and reliable, the bus stops seemingly in the middle of nowhere and a well trodden path leads off through the snow to a roped off viewing spot.

The Ural Owl is found throughout Japan and through a large area of the adjacent Asian mainland.

The ultimate owl, though, is Blakiston’s Fish Owl. On the one hand this is rare and endangered on the other hand it is large and spectacular, a heady mix, enough to make any twitcher twitch. They are only found north of Blakiston’s line (what a tragedy it would have been if Blakiston’s owl didn’t care two hoots about Blakiston’s line). Their stronghold is in east Hokkaido where they are found in steep-sided , forested valleys adjacent to the coast.

As rare as they are my chances of seeing one were excellent because my guide was none other than Mark Brazil. He is on intimate terms with some pairs having carried large and heavy nest boxes up suitably steep and forested valleys to make up for a shortage of natural hollows. He has earned his knowledge the hard way and handsomely repaid the birds in the process.

So it was off to the coast at twilight.

We staked out a spot where the stream ran from a valley under a road bridge and into the sea and waited for dark.

Even before it was pitch black we could hear the low double note call of the male. Initially it was given every few minutes and went unanswered. Then it was answered. The response was a single note, even deeper than the male’s, you could feel it as much as hear it. From then on it was as though it was a single bird calling. The technical term is antiphonal duetting. It sent a tingle down the spine (technical term frisson).

After a while I became aware that, well away from the lights, a bird had landed silently on the bow of a small boat. The binoculars gathered just enough light to turn the tingle into a twitch but could do nothing to satisfy the camera. Continued study through the gloom revealed another bird, how long it had been there was anybody’s guess. Then two more sitting on nearby boats. The whole family had come down to the sea to fish for their supper. The male, the female and two large youngsters.

One did fly closer and into the outer reaches of the lighting on the dock … but I won’t bore you with the photo because two nights later one flew and landed under the outside lighting of a streamside building. What are the chances?

Blakiston's Fish Owl — Blakiston’s Fish Owl

Rausu …

Time to head to the coast and the fishing port of Rausu.

We were going to sea to get some stunning views of some eagles. We donned our life jackets, packed several trays of frozen fish, which meant that they were pretty much at ambient temperature and headed out onto the briny. The gulls were quick to take an interest, this is a regular event for them …

But once we started throwing out the fish they were obliged to make way for the White-tailed Sea Eagles,

and when the big guys show up, look out. Steller’s Sea Eagle was the bird I had come to Japan to see. On a previous trip I had been on a ship outside Petropavlosk. The Russian port authorities, perhaps because there were mainly Americans on board, had kept us waiting for hours. By the time we docked it was time to head straight to the airport. The only significant result of that was to deny some dollars to the local economy. I was not too upset, I spent the whole time looking for the world’s largest and most spectacular eagle. I would have stayed an extra day … in fact I would have needed to. None showed up. Going hungry improves the appetite, dipping on a bird sweetens the eventual sighting …

Feeding Time …

The Red-crowned Crane is on the way back from the brink of extinction in Japan. Protection and active assistance have helped. In return the cranes have added to the local economy by becoming quite a tourist magnet. There are several crane reserves where supplemental feeding mean that good numbers can be seen and photographed in the winter. In the summer breeding season they are widely dispersed, harder to find and hard to approach.

At one of the reserves spring feeding includes fish, added protein to assist in breeding readiness.

A free feed is obviously going to attract other eager participants. There are two common crows in Japan, this is a Carrion Crow, the other is the Large-billed Crow which is easily distinguished by its steep forehead.

Also common and always happy to share food that it doesn’t have to catch for itself is the Black-eared Kite. In some taxonomies this is included in Milvus migrans, the widespread (including Australia) Black Kite.

But sharing top billing with the cranes, a large and very impressive eagle …