Twitching Solo

The Pond, and end of the project - at least for now

2021-02-13T13:21:00.004+02:00

Portia Widow - one of 10 dragonfly species we have photographed!

The pond, the primary goal of the entire project was actually completed a few months ago already. However, ponds take time to develop life, and much of the surrounding reeds, grass and sedges have taken a little while to establish themselves.

Starting the 'big dig' in mid-November was not the greatest plan. The summer rains were in full swing already, and given the clay content of my soil - it could only mean sludgy mud was inevitable. On a normal day, clay soil is actually quite easy to dig through, far better than stony top soil at any rate. Wet clay soil is also easy to dig through, but that is where the similarities end. One's spade gets stuck, you have to pry the gloop away from the surrounds, its heavy to lift and gets stuck to the inside of a wheelbarrow. After a few loads, you end up 'growing' 2-3 inches as your boots accumulate extra layers underfoot - its thoroughly unpleasant. All this 'work' was voluntary of course, I could have binned the project for the winter at any time - but it gave me pause to think of what those on either side of the Battle of Passchendaele had to live and fight in, for months...

For the better part of three weeks, I'd go outside for an hour or two most afternoons and dig another section. At times I spent half the weekend digging and carting tons of clay out of the hole. The hole progressed fairly well until the 7m mark where a significant rock stratum was discovered. Ultimately, there was little choice but to rework the pond according to this rock layer - we would now have a deep section of 7 metres, a sloping incline of 4 metres and a shallow area of 2 metres. This would work just fine as it happened - the shallow section would get some sedges planted and be the perfect sanctuary for fry and tadpoles. By the time that digging itself had ended, I calculated that a total of 10.5m³ of clay soil had been moved by spade and wheelbarrow - which equates to a shade under 20 tons.

The rain increased in volume steadily over the first weeks of December, culminating in a single downpour that filled the mud hole in less than 20 minutes! With the end in sight, I dedicated a full weekend to finishing the pond. Firstly I needed to install a home made filtration system - an old metal bath that would be counter sunk to one end of the pond and filled with gravel, rock and coarse sand. Then it was a case of pumping out all the rain water to fully empty the pond and dump 20 odd wheelbarrow loads of grass cuttings to line the pond before we could unfurl the 15 metre long plastic liner.

A little plastic liner wrangling was necessary as Kaily and I fought the wind to get the plastic into the pond, before we checked alignment and began filling. The pond would hold just over 10 000 litres of water - about 5 average JoJo tanks worth. We didn't have that much water stored, so we planned to put in around 2 000 litres just to keep the plastic in place, we'd let the rain do the rest. It was a long wait - as the last few weeks of December saw little to no rain... Finally, in early January 2021, the pond over flowed for the first time and has maintained a full to overflowing position ever since. A number of sedges have been planted, the volume of tadpoles has exploded and only a week ago we released 3 young Largemouth Bass into the pond. The bass are far from native species - but they will do the job of maintaining carnivorous order until we can find some native Tilapia species to take over.

Would I spend another 4 months of my life digging marshes and ponds? Absolutely. They have brought a plethora of new life to this once dull and stagnant property - life that keeps us gloriously entertained day or night. Indeed, the pond and marshes have brought another dimension to our appreciation for wildlife, as we have now gotten into 'dragonflying'... Meg, Kai and I have spent a few afternoon snapping away at the various species, having already photographed 10 different species, with at least a further 2 having eluded our lenses so far.

1. Broad Scarlet
2. Common Citril
3. Eastern Blacktail
4. Jaunty Dropwing
5. Julia Skimmer
6. Nomad
7. Portia Widow
8. Red-veined Dropwing
9. Smoky Spreadwing
10. Swamp Bluet

A few days in, only about 1.5m³

Digging needed to be done in steps.

Drain, dig, then drain some more...

The muddy gloop at its zenith

20 minute downpour from an afternoon thundershower

Lined with grass cuttings

Kai and dad - almost done (and the bath filter system)

15metres of plastic - its longer than you think!

The initial fill and grass sod lining

How things look today

The marshes and pond - left to grow wild!

Broad Scarlet

Common Citril

Eastern Blacktail

Jaunty Dropwing

Julia Skimmer

Nomad

Red-veined Dropwing

Smoky Spreadwing

Swamp Bluet

Marsh 3 and new life!

2021-01-19T19:55:00.001+02:00

Common River Frog

Dig number 3 would be another shallow endeavour dedicated to increasing the marsh space. At 10m long and more than 2m wide, this would be the largest of the marshes for this project, at least for now. With only around 20cm of topsoil to move, the dig was fairly straight forward - taking Kai and I a little more than 3 days. For perspective, the volume of soil removed was around 4.4cubic metres, and given it was quite compact - was estimated to weigh around 7 tonnes, 1 wheelbarrow at a time...

With the hole dug quickly, we had one bit of trouble - we were short on grass clippings that I planned to use as a buffer between the bare earth and the plastic liner. So we needed another afternoon to cut the lawn and get the hole prepared first. In went the plastic liner, followed by some course sand and a few sods of earth to keep the plastic from blowing away. Rain wasn't predicted for a few days, so to speed up the filling process a little - we emptied around 1000 litres of water into the marsh from our JoJo tank.

Filling the marsh with marsh plants on the other hand was going to take a rather monumental effort. Based on the number of truck loads needed to fill the already completed second marsh, I was looking at the prospect of needing nearly 20 truck loads of plants! That wouldn't work, so instead I lined the border with marsh plants whilst filling the inner section with sods of grass and earth - the flufftails and crakes would need some muddy patches to hunt for earthworms and other invertebrates.

The grass either side of the marsh itself would be allowed to grow at will, providing more cover for birds, amphibians and insects. Indeed, within a week of the pond being filled and the first vegetation planted - we had our first dragonflies, numbers that would increase from a mere handful to well over 50 individuals at any one time (species ID to follow one day...). The previously 'devoid of life, nothing but lawn' property had now seen a sudden spike in the amphibian population too, increasing from just one species of toad when we moved in, to at least 6 species that I could readily identify, I'm sure there are one or two more that I am missing.

1. Gray's Stream Frog
2. Common River Frog
3. Natal Spiny Reed Frog
4. Painted Reed Frog
5. Guttural Toad
6. Snoring Puddle Frog

Post Ed: Birds have started to make use of the pond in decent numbers, with Hadada Ibis bathing every day, Bronze and Red-backed Mannikins drinking and devouring the seeding grass, and even the skulking Burchell's Coucal snagging large insects on his way through the morass.

Basic layout - with Marshes 1 & 2 in the background.

Border grass removed, to be used later to hold plastic liner down.

Final depth was a little over 20cm deep

Grass clippings for cushioning between earth and plastic liner.

Course river sand and grass sod for weigh.

Border lined with marsh plants.

Open water and marsh edge for dragonflies and amphibians.

Growth increasing quickly.

Painted Reed Frog calling loudly

Gray's Stream Frog (Clicking)

Natal Spiny Reed Frog

Marsh 2

2021-01-11T16:48:00.005+02:00

Marsh 2 was always planned to be shallow and full of dense marsh vegetation. With similar dimensions to Marsh 1, this hole would add little in terms of water volume, but produce 6m² of good marsh habitat.

Long term, our plan is to entice Black Crake and perhaps even a young Red-chested Flufftail to take up residence. They both require similar habitats, patches of dense cover, water edge and foraging areas of mud or short vegetation. Whilst only a small patch to start with, this again would be the testing ground for the much larger ‘Marsh 3’ to come.

Digging commenced on a Sunday, removing the grass layer to expose a small volume of topsoil over the much deeper clay. With a target depth of only 20cm, digging didn’t take long – indeed, only a few hours of labour were required late on Monday afternoon to finish the job. Grass trimmings added, the plastic sheeting was laid a few minutes later. Some helpful evening rain even filled the marsh ahead of marsh plant collection.

Despite its small size, filling the pond with the requisite marsh plants, mud and other aquatic wildlife took 6 trips to various locations. To keep my impact down to a minimum, I collected material from degraded or heavily disturbed seeps and drainage ditches within the area during the late Autumn, before the growing season had started.

Post Ed – a few months after planting and the increased rainfall, light hours and temperatures have spurred on growth. The marsh is now exactly as intended with plentiful cover and an ever-increasing density of frogs, insects and other invertebrates.

Initial grass clearance - not much topsoil here!

Plastic lining went on quickly with a few logs to hold things in place

Even drizzle flowing from roof to marsh.

A day after lining and the mrsh was already full of water

First marsh plants added.

Multiple trips later, still not fully vegetated.

Two months later - the marsh was growing fast.

A heavy downpour showing the growth of Marsh 2 and the beginnings of pond 1 in the background.

Manufacturing a wetland

2021-01-04T14:33:00.005+02:00

When I was about 14, I convinced my parents to let me run riot in their garden. I chopped out all the exotic rubbish, replanted with indigenous and even put in a small pond (made with a piece of orange roofing plastic that my old man found for me somewhere…). Since then, I’ve always wanted a grander dam or lake in my backyard, but never lived anywhere long enough to make it happen.

Fast forward around 25 years and I found myself buying a property with Meg. I looked at the backyard and saw my chance. Fairly flat ground with only a vegetable garden and a lot of lawn to conquer. In the days before COVID, I imagined hiring a backhoe and digging one ginormous pond to house Large-mouthed Bass in order that I could go fishing in my own backyard… So, we moved the veg patch and enclosed it, got rid of a rudimentary rockery and built a fine BBQ area in its place. All I had to do was get working on the lake.

By the time I finished sorting our all the other upgrades and renovations around the house, COVID had arrived and lockdown was in full swing. Not only was the backhoe idea out, so was the ginormous pond for fishing - an alternate outcome was required, one that was going to cost very little and surely involve a rather large amount of personal labour… Back to the old days it was then, self-dug holes and plastic liners would be the order of the day. Since long and wide liners cost a small fortune, I planned to use smaller sheets of plastic that are more routinely used in roofing to provide under tile waterproofing. At 250um thick, they should do the trick. My intentions had changed somewhat too, out with the big fishing pond and in with a number of shallower marshes for amphibians, crakes and flufftails.

One afternoon with 'lockdown beverages' in hand, Meg and I arranged a pile of soda bottles, plant pots and hockey sticks around the backyard to form a basis for the grand scheme. A few days later, we started laying the main water feeder pipe – a 50mm ldpe pipe connected to our JoJo overflow. Trenching and pipe laying done, a multitude of connections were fixed and laid, ready to fill all the ponds and marshes.

Phase one would be a small pond – something that would allow us to test form and function. Early on a Saturday morning, Kaily and I headed outside with spades, shovels and wheelbarrows. The first hole was scheduled to be 3 metres long, 1.7metres wide and around 40 centimetres deep. 5 hours and 36 wheelbarrow loads of dirt later, we had our first hole. To provide some protection, we tipped in a few piles of old cut grass and laid the plastic. In went some water from the JoJo to get things going, before the evenings predicted rain arrived and proved that our piping worked too. Now we needed some life, so we hit a nearby marsh for some reeds, before another downpour the following day filled the pond. In the space of a week, we had increased our water capacity by 2000 litres and breathed some new life into what was the sterile lawn.

*Postscript. Marsh 1 would indeed be the practice run, for we could not keep the water oxygenated enough. We ended up filling the pond in with soil from Pond 1 to create a contiguous marsh. Successfully punctured the lining and had to re-dig it and re-line it…

Planning - with soda bottles and hockey sticks

Feeder pipe form the JoJo overflow

Breaking ground

Almost done

Black liner with first water going in

Almost complete

There was a leak somewhere, but it was a case of digging it out again

Re-lined and filled

Battle of the invasive aliens.

2020-06-17T19:54:00.002+02:00

As I have written about before, I’ve despised invasive aliens since I was old enough to know about them. Be it plants, trees, birds or mammals - I have at various stages of my life been on a mission to cut, chop, shoot or poison as much of it as I can. My last venture in the Town Bush Stream, Pietermaritzburg ultimately ended in failure. One person cannot manage the volume of foliage and regrowth with machete and brush cutter alone. Given I was down stream of the horrid Ferncliffe plantation and invasive choked hillside, I knew I wasn't going to accomplish much in the long term.

Hilton may be on the top of the hill, but it is equally chocked with invasives and plantations of Eucalyptus and Pine. The primary invasive in this area is the Bugweed (Solanum mauritianum) of South America. Few properties are free of this noxious weed, even our property has small seedlings pop up on occasion. The weed creates so many tasty berries, that many birds find them absolutely irresistible - resulting in rapid spread. Whilst I keep on top of our garden easily enough, having to look at the infested vacant plot across the road from us has bugged me for quite some time. Meg helpfully suggested I do something about it, so even before lockdown was officially over, Kai and I headed over the road to start chopping and poisoning. It took a few afternoons to wade through the tall grass and a patch of American Bramble (another invasive alien), but eventually we had chopped and poisoned the entire lot. A little maintenance is all that is required to keep one more property under control.

Vacant lot - 18 May 2020

Vacant lot - 11 June 2020

Yawn, just another version of the same Lockdown... Part 12 - Ecuador

2020-05-05T19:39:00.001+02:00

The 'relaxing' of lockdown really just meant that the mice were allowed to get off their wheels and walk around the neighbourhood for a 3 hour period. If you haven't read Nineteen Eighty Four, then you have no concept of the inference - if you have, then I think you are well to be concerned. Musings aside, the garden list has grown with some unusual sightings recently including a Bokmakierie and even a young Martial Eagle this afternoon.

To keep sane, one's mind needs to dream a little - and there are few places on the globe where dreaming about seeing a lot of birds can be satisfied quite like Ecuador. It can be an overwhelming destination, with hundreds of new species to see in just a matter of days - so take your time! With a number of feeders and photo blinds, their is plenty of scope to take your time and enjoy the varied species and their behaviour. Toucans and their smaller cousins, the Aracaris never fail to make an entrance at a fruit feeder - often bossing proceedings with a simple swoosh of their bill.

Pale-mandibled Aracari. Milpe, Ecuador

A high resolution version of this image is available on my Shutterstock page.

End of Lockdown, almost... Part 11 - South Africa

2020-04-25T19:19:00.001+02:00

I think the vast majority of South Africans will agree that despite the curb on personal freedom, five weeks of lockdown has been a necessary restriction to try and protect our population from the impact of COVID-19. And do we have a top notch president or what - good luck to you Mr Ramaphosa, in Cyril we trust!

We have realised that with slightly better planning there is actually no need to go to the shop every few days. The work we have put into our garden is starting to show some results, as the various gardens fill in, and our new bird feeder island is slowly bringing back the vast numbers of sunbrids and weavers that we got used to before we went to India. Speaking of the bird list, we have added 11 new species during the lockdown, including the dazzling Bokmakierie and scarce Forest Buzzard only a few days ago.

In a few days time, we can finally leave the house and take a walk or cycle around the neighbourhood, something we fully intend on doing. However, I really look forward to the day that we can travel a little further, at least as far as the Drakensberg - and perhaps across the border into Lesotho. I love birding the mountains - be it the Drakensberg, Andes, Himalayas, Atlas or Alps. Being so close to us; Meg, Kai and I spend a fair amount of time in the 'berg', add some decent weather and the photographic opportunities can be stunning.

Ground Woodpecker. Giant's Castle, ukhahlamba Drakensberg National Park. 2015.

A high resolution version of this image is available on my Shutterstock page.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 10 - Cuba

2020-04-21T19:33:00.001+02:00

For as long as most of us have been alive, Cuba has been a tantalising - but unreachable destination. Aside from the diverse birding opportunities - Cuba was to an extent a living history, a country trapped in a time bubble set in the 1950’s. In as little as six years I watched Cuba’s 1950’s automobiles diminish from the de facto form of transport to a mere sideline of tourist interest. Hotels were being erected at break-neck speed to host the impending tourism avalanche. I expected Cuba to become just another Caribbean island, practically inseparable from the rest. The legacies of Jose Marti, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara and the brothers Castro quickly eroded by mass commercialism.

At least - that is what I thought around 4 years ago. The impact of the existing US administration and the current viral infection appears to have put the brakes on this for a while longer. It is a nation of contrasts, history, great people and some awesome birds, not least of which are 4 species of exquisite quail-doves. Another place to go one day Meg!

Blue-headed Quail-Dove. Bermejas, Matanzas, Cuba

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 9 - China

2020-04-14T21:42:00.000+02:00

I had the opportunity to visit China in late 2016 to attend the 7th Asian Bird Festival. As a country I had been intent on visiting for as long as I can remember, the long flight and short turn around were of no concern. Seems odd now, but I had never heard of the city I flew into to start the entire trip - Wuhan. Yes, the very same Wuhan of Covid-19 fame.

The festival itself was great, though it was a week of post festival birding that I was most looking forward to, and specifically for one bird - a male Reeves's Pheasant. Males have the longest natural tail feather of any species, pushing up to 2.4 metres long! The male below had a tail of perhaps 1.5metres long, still spectacular - but seemingly impossible to capture in the same frame as the bird itself. The lighting was crap, the lens not quite good enough and the photographer a little shaky - so I'll need to go back and get better photos one day, with Meg...

Reeves's Pheasant - Dongzhai NNR, Henan Province, China. 2016.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 8 - Mexico

2020-04-10T15:00:00.000+02:00

By the time I arrived in Mexico for the last of my long string of tours through South America, Central America and the Caribbean, I had seen close to 2000 species of bird in a matter of 5 months. However, far from being tired - I was very much looking forward to a week traveling around the Yucatan digging up as many of the specialities as possible. There were some long travel days, and the birds didn't always play ball - but we did find almost all the sought after species including the spectacular Ocellated Turkey. I had seen these a year before in Guatemala, where they roam about the Mayan ruins of Tikal fairly oblivious to humans. I didn't possess a decent camera or lens to do the birds justice back then, but by the time a small flock walked into the middle of the road in Calakmul - I had something reasonable to hand. Being the middle of breeding season, the males weren't too bothered by much, so long as the ladies were in sight.

Ocellated Turkey - Calakmul Biosphere Reserve, Campeche, Mexico. 2015.

A high resolution version of a similar image is available on my Shutterstock page.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 7 - Colombia

2020-04-07T17:00:00.000+02:00

Shortly after meeting Meg and Kai, I said goodbye and headed off to South and Central America for 5 and half months. The first destination on my list was Colombia, where I would spend just over 6 weeks. It simply isn't possible to select the 'best' species or images when you are seeing on average 20 new species every day! Like with any Andean birding adventure - you are going to see a lot of Tanagers and Hummingbirds, perhaps even some Antpittas. Oddly, it has taken until my 7th post to publish a member of my favourite family, the Antpittas. Thanks to time, dedication and care - a number of feeding stations have been established across Colombia allowing birders the chance to see some of these generally agoraphobic creatures. Whilst I enjoy the challenge of finding these birds away from feeders, some are quite simply skittish ghosts - such as this Bicolored Antpitta, which even at a feeding station gives you little more than a few seconds. I really want to see this one again Meg...

Bicolored Antpitta, Rio Blanco, Colombia. 2014.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 6 - India

2020-04-03T17:00:00.000+02:00

Today's image is from India, and yes - I could have picked from a number of gaudy options. Alas, as my two favourite birding families in the world are Antpittas and Larks, you can expect to be blown away by browns and beiges. Indeed, my main reason for this specific image isn't just that it is a lark, but that it was also my first lifer of 2020 (only 5 in total so far). Since it appears unlikely I am going to get many, if any more lifers this year - the significance is somewhat greater.

Sykes's Lark, Dholpur, Rajasthan. 2020.

A high resolution version of this image is available on my Shutterstock page.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 5 - Puerto Rico

2020-03-31T17:00:00.000+02:00

Continuing with the Caribbean thread - I have been to the Caribbean a number of times, visiting Cuba, Jamaica and the Dominican Republic on at least three occasions. I had seen all the available extant endemics and near endemics (ie: Cuban Kite and Zapata Rail don't make the list as they are either very rare and isolated, or a complete enigma). However, I had failed to visit Puerto Rico - and consequently my Greater Antillean puzzle was a piece short. I had been scheduled to lead a tour to the island in 2015, but limited client interest meant that if I was to go - I would have to do so myself.

I spent all of 6 days in Puerto Rico, racing about twitching every island endemic - spending most nights sleeping in the back of the car. The bird I wanted the most was Puerto Rican Tody. The Tody's are a small family of 5 species endemic to the Caribbean. These tiny colourful jewels - related to kingfishers can be surprisingly confiding when you find them (in Old World terms, they behave somewhat similarly to Batises). Near enough the very first bird I saw on the island was indeed my last Tody, alongside a hatful of other endemics at Camberlache State Forest.

Puerto Rican Today, Camberlache, Puerto Rico. 2015.

A high resolution version of this image is available on my Shutterstock page.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 4 - Jamaica

2020-03-28T17:00:00.000+02:00

In the last quarter of 2014, I headed off for a long stretch of tours to the Americas - nearly 6 months in all. Part of this time was spent in the Caribbean, visiting the 4 major Greater Antillean islands of Cuba, Hispaniola (Dominican Republic), Puerto Rico and Jamaica. All these islands have at least one endemic species of Hummingbird, some of which are rather significant due to their size - the Bee Hummingbird of Cuba being the smallest bird in the world, whilst the Vervain Hummingbird of Jamaica and Hispaniola being the second smallest bird in the world. Both are aptly described as cute, but aside from the male Bee Hummingbird - they don't really tick the attractive box. In a family of almost 360 species, many of whom are exquisitely coloured - differentiation is difficult! I have always been drawn to the small number of species that possess long, or adorned tails. In Jamaica - you need only travel a few miles to see two! What the locals call the 'Doctor Bird' - we know as Red-billed and Black-billed Streamertails.

One day Meg...

Black-billed Streamertail, Port Antonio, Jamaica. 2015.

Red-billed Streamertail, Blue Mountains, Jamaica. 2014.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 3 - Morocco

2020-03-25T16:22:00.000+02:00

To date, the 2017 winter tour of Morocco is the last Rockjumper tour that I worked on as a Tour Leader (I co-led with Mark Beevers). Since then, I have remained firmly ensconced behind a desk - a mostly self-inflicted predicament. Poor Meg and Kai only got a vicarious look at this fascinating, culturally rich country that abounds with cool larks, the critical endangered Northern Bald Ibis and large flocks of various sandgrouse.

I spent a night pre-tour in the High Atlas enjoying the falling snow, only to come seriously close to getting stuck in Oukaimeden in my little rental and missing the start of the tour... As it happened, Mark and I spent 11 days hoovering up nearly every possible bird special, nailing stunning views of Aoudad (Barbary Sheep) and consuming a good deal of Tagine and Couscous.

Sorry my lovely ladies - I'll take you both to Morocco one day...

Greater Hoopoe-Lark, Merzouga, Morocco. 2017.

A high resolution version of this image is available on my Shutterstock page.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 2 - Paraguay

2020-03-22T20:51:00.002+02:00

Having skipped Paraguay and the grand chaco traverse into Bolivia during my cycling tour of South America - I had always been very keen to head back and tick the 'other' landlocked country of the continent. A few weeks before setting off, I had become acquainted with Rockjumper's newest recruit (Meg). To say that Meg was a birding neophyte at the time would have been an understatement, but she entertained my bird focused ramblings - even though I neglected to consider the time zone differences. Chaco Owl kept me awake for a number of nights, with only the odd road side flushed sighting. After yet another night without much luck, I arrived at the lodge late with all the intention of some sleep - only to have that thought dashed with the distinctive sound of a Chaco Owl calling nearby. A very accommodating individual gave me prolonged views and numerous photo opportunities, something I was very keen to share with Meg - who had also waited up late to share in a vicarious sighting.

Chaco Owl. Filadelfia, Paraguay. 2014.

Sidestepping Covid-19... Part 1 - Hong Kong

2020-03-19T17:50:00.000+02:00

I work in travel, specifically global birding. This profession requires a few things - people with a desire to see birds, a team of professionals to ensure good logistics, tour leaders to find the birds and show off the attributes of each destination and a team of agents, local guides and drivers. We're awfully good at doing all this, and yet we're all stuck at home because the one thing that allows for this global synergy - the capacity to travel freely, is nigh near locked down by the latest coronavirus epidemic. At the moment, Meg and I do nothing else but deal with the effect of COVID-19 on our company, our guests and our amazing team every day, sometimes we even consider the impact it may have on our own family, but mostly we cannot wait for global pandemic to dissipate quickly enough. Not only would we prefer the world not to suffer too much more, but we'd also like to regain the freedom that has been lost. Unlike many of our guests, friends and family, we don't have a holiday in jeopardy, our flights haven't been cancelled, our visa applications denied - nor are we suddenly going to jet off anywhere when this is done - but just knowing that it were possible is enough.

Thinking about this one thing for so many hours every day is draining, so we are making a conscious effort to ignore the 'news and updates', even if only for a few hours a day. Rather we shall reminisce about the great travels we have had - some to the remoter corners of the globe, some in our own neck of the woods. In so doing, we hope to create a few spaces for 'other stories' on our social media streams, aside from the continuous scroll of doom, gloom and make believe - we encourage you to do the same!

Today's image is from Hong Kong, China. I am quite keen on waders - they aren't on the same level as my two favourite birding families - Antpittas and Larks, but they share some of the same attractive features. They require patience, careful study, an understanding of habitat and lots of perseverance.

I've been trying to find Black-faced Spoonbill for quite a while now, but have never been to one of its core wintering sites on my trips through southeast Asia. With Meg and Kaily keen to maximise their flight mileage en route to India on our last trip - I was quite happy to divert via Hong Hong and give us the best chance of finding this scarce species. Indeed, aside from finally seeing this bogey bird, it was also my most recent lifer of 2020.

Black-faced Spoonbill - Nam Sang Wai, Hong Kong. January 2020

A high resolution version of a similar image is available on my Shutterstock page.

Help us save the White-winged Flufftail

2017-09-21T18:15:00.003+02:00

The Rockjumper staff are dedicating our year end function efforts to raise some cash for the Critically Endangered White-winged Flufftail. We have divvied ourselves into teams to add a competitive edge to the drive and hopefully raise a good amount of money for the Middelpunt Wetland Trust which plays a massive role in habitat awareness and education. Any donations to my crowdfunding setup would be most appreciated, alternatively, please do share this link widely!

Click here to donate to the White-winged Fufftail crowd fund

Established in 1994, the Middelpunt Wetland Trust has done exceptional and groundbreaking work on the critically endangered White-winged Flufftail. The trust’s main objective entails securing and rehabilitating the Middelpunt Wetland between Dullstroom and Belfast in Mpumalanga, South Africa.

The very mysterious White-winged Flufftail’s highly fragmented habitat is severely threatened by continued destruction and it is therefore of utmost importance that their extremely commendable efforts to conserve these specific areas are well supported.

The Middelpunt Wetland Trust is also actively involved in monitoring, conservation and awareness programs in Ethiopia, the only known breeding area for this enigmatic species. The Trust has also decided to proceed with a captive breeding program, and discussions with the National Zoological Gardens in Pretoria are far-advanced. Furthermore, a school has already been built for a community that adjoins one of the breeding sites in Ethiopia.

By enabling a wider circle of birders to be aware of the plight of the White-winged Flufftail and generating a greater sense of publicity of this secretive bird’s existence, the Middelpunt Wetlands Trust is playing a major role in its conservation.

The Land Regeneration Project - Part 3

2017-05-14T19:35:00.002+02:00

The impenetrable wall of Tickberry (Lantana camera)

Over the last few months, we have chipped away at the invasive shrubs and bushes, clearing Tickberry (Lantana camera) and chopping down the odd Bugweed (Solanum mauritianum) as well as planting a number of new indigenous trees in the valley.

An entire weekend was dedicated to assaulting the Lantana camara thicket obscuring our view. Late Friday afternoon saw me at my now customary equipment rental shop, Coastal Hire. With bladed brush cutter in hand, I was looking forward to giving the lantana a good wrecking. As it happened, laying into lantana is a little more difficult that anticipated. A bladed brush cutter is rather heavy when you are trying to wield it like a sword. It took less than 30 minutes to realise that I would not be destroying the Lantana this weekend, it would have to be done with a machete instead.

Kaily now has her own spade to help dig

Moving on, large thickets of herbaceous stemmed Black Jack (Bidens pilosa) would be taken out instead, thus increasing the cleared area twofold. Cutting Black Jacks was far more successful, as the spinning metal blade simply laced through them. By Saturday afternoon, I felt I had at least made some improvements, even if they were not as targeted.

The next weekend started off with an early morning session of bamboo barrier building. As the construction has now been somewhat simplified, I had 5 new barriers within a matter of a few hours. All that was left was to get 5 new trees planted. Despite not having cleared quite as much lantana as planned a week before, I had managed to push the invasive bank back far enough to fit in a line of new trees. With the ever helpful Kaily at my side to help clear the area, we managed to plant 4 new trees into the available space. The fifth tree made it into the newly cleared area, an area that will see a significant number of further specimens planted shortly.

The long easter weekend provided me with one last session in the valley, using a regular brush cutter to trim the grass down, whilst also creating a short path through the cleared area. I hope to maintain this section whilst also expanding it as the clearing continues.

With a number of recent commitments, an extended weekend in Cape Town preceding a week long cruise (Flock at Sea), and there has been precious little time to pay further attention to the valley. I should have a few more weekends coming up to hack away at more invasive vegetation, whilst also constructing more barriers for planting. Unfortunately, it has become apparent over the last vew months that an even worse invasive alien is starting to take over from the Bugweed and Tickberry. The Mauritius Thorn (Caesalpinia decapetala) seems to have spread down the Town Bush River, from heavy thickets on either side of the road to African Enterprise. Already this thorny shrub with a propensity for climbing has engulfed a 15metre high Pigeon Wood (Trema orientalis), which I need to attend to shortly. Unlike Lantana and Bugweed, this shrub has severe thorns and shall require much care when being removed.

Another Podocarpus latifolius successfully planted.

Kaily getting a lift after all her hard work

Meg supervising our work from the safe confined of the wheel barrow

Trees planted to date

Tree 1 Planted 02 January 2017 Senegalia galpinii Monkey Thorn

Tree 2 Planted 08 January 2017 Senegalia galpinii Monkey Thorn

Tree 3 Planted 21 January 2017 Trichilia dregeana Forest Mahogany

Tree 4 Planted 21 January 2017   Podocarpus latifolius Real Yellowwood
Tree 5 Planted 21 January 2017   Podocarpus latifolius Real Yellowwood
Tree 6 Planted 26 March 2017    Ficus lutea Giant Leaved Fig
Tree 7 Planted 26 March 2017    Rauvolfia caffra   Quinine Tree
Tree 8 Planted 26 March 2017 Senegalia sieberana   Paperbark Thorn
Tree 9 Planted 26 March 2017 Albizia adianthifolia    Flatcrown Albizia

Tree 10 Planted 09 April 2017   Podocarpus latifolius Real Yellowwood
Tree 11 Planted 27 May 2017   Podocarpus latifolius Real Yellowwood
Tree 12 Planted 27 May 2017   Podocarpus latifolius Real Yellowwood

Tree 13 Planted 27 May 2017 Albizia adianthifolia Flatcrown Albizia

Tree 14 Planted 27 May 2017 Senegalia galpinii Monkey Thorn

Tree 15 Planted 27 May 2017 Trichilia dregeana Forest Mahogany

Tree 16 Planted 27 May 2017 Trichilia dregeana Forest Mahogany

Tree 17 Planted 27 May 2017 Strelitzia nicolai Natal Wild Banana

Tree 18 Planted 27 May 2017 Strelitzia nicolai Natal Wild Banana

The Land Regeneration Project - Part 2

2017-01-31T21:56:00.001+02:00

Brush cut and more trees added

With no birding planned for the weekend, it was decided to start phase two of the regeneration project. Down the road again to Coastal Hire, the local power tool hire shop. I’m fast becoming a regular customer - hiring chain saws and brush cutters on a fairly regular basis now.

Brush cutter in hand, and no idea how to use it, I turned to my trusted teaching aid - YouTube for a 5 minute tutorial. [In case you wonder about the efficacy of using YouTube to learn anything, it took me no more than an 8 min video to learn how to ride a motorbike in Peru, before I tackled the Manu Road…] Despite a better understanding of how to deal with the brush pile across the road, I had slightly underestimated the size of some of the herbaceous shrubs, as well as the general resistance of Lantana camara, to a nylon headed brush cutter at least. I found myself spending as much time replacing the nylon cutting strips as I did laying into the 3ft tall morass. Persevere I did, thankful for the cool and overcast conditions.

Wielding the brush cutter

After some trial and error, I figured out how to more productive - leaving the herbaceous shrubs and laying into the grass and Black Jacks Bidens pilosa, another horrid, pervasive weed from South America. No doubt the neighbours are getting used to 2 stroke engine noise every other weekend, but despite the racket - Meg and I got rather a few compliments from passing joggers and walkers. Having flattened large sections of brush, I had more scope for planting. With 3 bamboo barriers already assembled, I reckoned I had enough energy left to put in the trees, selecting some different species for the river bank edge. The 3rd tree to be planted was one of my favourites, the Forest Mahogany Trichilia dregeana, followed by two slow growing, but excellent montane species, Real Yellowwood Podocarpus latifolius.

I spent some of Sunday afternoon wielding the brush cutter deeper into the scrub, exposing a few other indigenous trees planted some years before by another resident. Large tracts remain uncut, but the herbaceous nature and size of the shrubs requires a more dedicated effort with a bladed brush cutter.

With potential birding delayed by another weekend, I took advantage and rented the chainsaw again. The prime purpose was to obtain further bamboo to be used for tree barriers. So far, the resident Bushbuck have not made any noticeable attempt to browse the existing trees, but I would prefer not to tempt fate. Many more poles were cut before the chainsaw gave up the ghost on Sunday afternoon - but I certainly have a large reservoir of barrier material to get me through the next few months. No trees are due for planting in the next few weeks though - a trip to search for the elusive Striped Flufftail is this weekends agenda.

Tree 2 Planted 08 January 2017 Senegalia galpinii Monkey Thorn

Tree 3 Planted 21 January 2017 Trichilia dregeana Forest Mahogany

Tree 4 Planted 21 January 2017 Podocarpus latifolius Real Yellowwood
Tree 5 Planted 21 January 2017 Podocarpus latifolius Real Yellowwood
Tree 6 Planted 26 March 2017 Ficus lutea Giant Leaved Fig
Tree 7 Planted 26 March 2017 Rauvolfia caffra Quinine Tree
Tree 8 Planted 26 March 2017 Senegalia sp.
Tree 9 Planted 26 March 2017 Albizia adianthifolia Flatcrown Albizia

There is plenty of brush to get through - early days

Putting up the custom built bamboo barriers

Kai is always on hand to help!

Tree number 2

Happy team - 2 trees in, plenty to go

Lantana camara - a beautiful scourge

Sweaty labour this tree planting business - 35 more to go to finish phase 1...

The Land Regeneration Project - Part 1

2017-01-06T10:36:00.000+02:00

Kaily and I planting the first tree

Since I was old enough to know the difference, I’ve despised invasive aliens. Be it plants, trees, birds or mammals - I have been on a mission to cut, chop, shoot or poison, which ever option works the best. My parents yard in Durban full of desirable Garden or Variegated Crotons (Codiaeum variegatum) which naturally occur in Indonesia, Malaysia, Australia and the western Pacific Ocean islands all got the chop, as did the horrid Leopard Tree (Caesalpinnea ferrea) from Brazil. Replaced with far too many very large trees, it was not long before I realised I needed a little more space to plant quite so many trees. Having relocated, it was not long before the new occupants of our former house chopped most my hard work down anyway.

Having relocated to a small holding near Bela-Bela, I had the scope with which I had always dreamed of. Except, the ground was awfully hard and I knew nothing of the local tree and plant species. In the interim, there was a far greater issue to be dealt with, for the entire area was engulfed by ‘Queen of the Night’ (Cereus jamacaru), a tough as nuts cactus from north eastern Brazil that grows up to 5m high and produces very attractive white flowers that last a single night. The local government was concerned enough about this pest that they provided free herbicide to anyone who agreed to clear their land. A few days later, all 50 hectares of our property had been dealt with. A few years later, it was all back - none of the neighbouring farmers had any interest in dealing with it.

I took a 12 year hiatus from murdering exotic plants while living in Europe and travelling the world, before returning to South Africa to wreak more havoc on my parents garden in Bela-Bela. Having settled in Pietermaritzburg, Meg discovered that I couldn’t help myself - even with only a tiny piece of land, I was intent on destroying the rubbish and replacing it with indigenous plants. Out went the aliens and in came a pile of native Aloes, Canary Creeper (Senecio tamoides), Cape Honeysuckle (Tecoma capensis) and even a few Tree Fuschia’s (Halleria lucida). Requireing more space for all our camping stuff, we recently moved to a leafier part of Pietermaritzburg. Here we had a far larger garden, but one without anything but grass. Perfect I thought, I could get a small forest growing here. Unfortunately, the owner of the property rather liked his grass and so my proposed forest was put on hold. I did manage to insert some Canary Creeper (Senecio tamoides) and Cape Honeysuckle (Tecoma capensis) along the fence lines, added a few smaller trees and put a few Aloes and grass species in plastic moveable buckets. I still had to wake up to the sight of two English Oaks (Quercus robur) every morning. As much as I’d like to chop them both down, the volume of neasting bird species made this impractical. This year alone has produced new families of African Wood Owl, Green Wood Hoopoe, Violet-backed Starling & Red-throated Wryneck. The bee nest is a favourite haunt of Lesser Honeyguide and numerous other species that seek shelter here. So the English Oaks would have to stay.

Balcooa Bamboo - far bigger than you think!

I soon learnt that the property along the small river valley opposite our fence line also belonged to the estate, and here there was far more potential - at least for me. Riddled with Tickberry (Lantana camera) from Central and South America, Bugweed (Solanum mauritianum) from South America, Black Wattle (Acacia mearnsii) from Australia, Balcooa Bamboo (Bambusa balcooa) from Indochina as well as various invasive species of Pine tree (Pinus sp) and Blue Gum (Eucalyptus grands). In fact, I am probably only brushing the surface of what other horrid invasives lie in this valley, there is sure to be Siam Weed (Chromolaena odorata) and Syringa (Melia azedarach) amongst others. Clearing this cornucopia of rubbish has already defeated a number of efforts, both by the estate and the council. It has also been partially defeated by a nesting pair of African Crowned Eagle that didn’t take kindly to bull dozers attempting to clear a section of Lantana.

Yours truly is not about to suggest that he is single handedly going to blaze a trail of destruction through this mess and replant it all with native indigenous trees, but I am going to try and make a dent in it. Having secured permission to try my hand at this, I resolved to start slowly and methodically…

Phase one - identify a reasonably sized patch of land and gain permission to plant trees. Permission obtained in late November 2016.

Phase two - obtain suitable trees for planting. Working on a tip off from our friend Rich Lindie, we paid a visit to Val-Lea Nursery in Lincoln Meade. The owner Granton showed me around and also announced that he had sold his property and would be shutting the nursery in a few months. So I filled the cruiser a few times and collected over 40 trees in two visits.

Phase three - prepare the land. This phase was mandatory due to the presence of a number of Bushbuck, who would happily browse the new trees before they had a chance of growing. Thus a structure around the trees was required. Those bamboo clumps would now come in useful.

Chopping to size

Phase four - over the New Years weekend, I headed down to the local equipment store and rented a chainsaw for the long weekend. Until you have stood at the bottom of a giant bamboo clump, this project would have seemed rather straight forward. This bamboo is so large, that we have actually used pieces of it for a side project - a wine rack, where each bottle comfortably fits inside the hollow of a single internodal region. (I’ll blog about this project separately). After much noise making, pulling and pushing - I was able to retrieve only a small number of the stems that I had actually cut. The remainder are still there, held together 20 metres above by interlocking branches. Having chopped the pieces into manageable lengths, we transported what amounted to a boot full (cruiser that is) of stems back to the house. Ably assisted by Meg and Kaily, the pile had to be transported into the yard for the next session of chopping. More chopping was followed by cross sectioning and sub-dividing of the stems into slats.

Phase five - build the barriers. The first one is always the most difficult as you attempt to put into action what amounted to a simple plan. When the first attempt failed, a second was devised and implemented to a much better standard.

Kaily bringing the ingredients

Phase six - the final stage was completing the purpose of all this effort. Planting a tree. Having successfully built the first barrier, we selected the first tree for planting and headed over the road, wheel barrow, spade and pickaxe all delivered by an excitable Kaily. Having chosen a suitable spot, I cleared a little vegetation before sinking the pick axe and spade into the ground. Kaily was again on hand to deliver the first tree to site before handing down instructions on just how things should be done. A little pushing and pulling on the bamboo barrier completed the job. Tree number 1, in the ground on January 2nd 2017.

To complete the first session of the project, we have another 39 barriers to construct and trees to plant!

Tree 1 Planted 02 January 2017 Senegalia galpinii Monkey Thorn

After a sweaty day, I needed a lift over the road

20 metres tall may be an underestimate

Even with multiple stems cut, the bamboo simply wouldn't fall

Eventually one stem came crashing down much to Kaily's dismay!

Kai helping load the truck

A good start to the project

Building the barrier to protect from the trees from Bushbuck browsing

Kai helping carry the first tree

Barrier and tree installed

Bamboo debris on our lawn, looking across to the first tree site

Larking about in the Cape

2014-09-09T15:50:00.000+02:00

I've been on the road for months now. Tours of New Britain and Papua New Guinea followed by a few weeks with Rich Lindie on Sulawesi. Too much time in the sky, completely unnecessary, fly from northern Sulawesi to Singapore via Bali onwards to Johannesburg, back to Dubai and then Basel via London in a day. Spend a few days birding with Adrian in Switzerland, then back back to England for the rather massive UK Bird Fair. A lecture, much chatting and more standing made up another four days. Drive back to London, fly to South Africa via Dubai. This time my flights are two hours longer than normal as I am flying direct to Cape Town rather than Johannesburg.

I've been to the Cape three times, twice when I was a kid and once when I behaved like a child. Relationships are funny things, somehow with much kicking a screaming, I agreed to being dragged half way across the world for a 'weekend'. Off I went on a trans-continental flight to a country I hated, under the auspices of attending the most ridiculous religious wedding of people I didn't even know. I reverted to form not long after arriving and headed off to Kirstenbosch Gardens, never setting foot anywhere near said bunch of happy clappers until way after the extremist stuff had been puked out. The point, however, is that my world and southern African bird list had long suffered the ignominy of this birding black hole.

With some level of wisdom, I had been appointed to guide paying clients around the Cape in a few months time, so a scouting mission was in demand. While I only needed to cover a small section of Cape for scouting purpose, I was intent of covering as much of it as possible, the rest of the trip would be for me to hammer away at the new lifers and bring some respectability to my Southern African list.

Land, customs, bags, rental, drive. Cape Town (indeed all of the Western and Northern Cape as I would discover) may as well have been another country by comparison to the rest of the South Africa shithole. The climate is different, the people are different, the scenery is different. I could wax lyrical for pages on the pros and cons of the Cape versus the rest of the bell end, but perhaps another time.

My first morning dawned with heavy rain and wind - a test for my personal 'Happy Month'. I had some shopping to do, i.e. buy a new lens. Orms Direct had the mid-range Nikon 400mm f/4.0 that I felt I could carry on my little frame. Despite the crappy weather, I was taking a strong liking this place already - been a while since I was able to use the word 'competent' in these parts. Despite the weather, I felt I needed to be outside at least trying to do something. Rooi Els it would be - a tiny upmarket seaside village that has taken to protecting a section of the lower slopes of the Capes Hottentots Holland Mountains. The prime focus of my attention here was the Cape Rockjumper. I've seen many of its allopatric brother, the Drakensberg Rockjumper in both the Lesotho and KwaZulu Natal highlands - but completing the company set was my main intention. A patch of cleared at at an opportune time, but I was easily distracted by overly confiding Southern Double-collared and Orange-breasted Sunbirds. I had no idea as to what my new lens was actually capable of doing, so I just shot everything in much the same way as the locals handle their AK's.

Pissing rain came sweeping in almost catching me unawares, but rain stopped within seconds of me reaching the car. The sun came out and it looked as though clear skies would last the rest of the afternoon. I didn't need it fortunately, a pair of Cape Rockjumper conveniently worked over a nearby boulder even allowing me to sneak up for some more 'spray and prey' shots. Most chuffed with myself, I withdrew from the scene to drink beer with Shawn Wedd, my partner in amongst other crimes, the art of fish tank building.

Day two in Cape Town started rather pleasantly with breakfast at the Victoria and Alfred waterfront. Another spot of shopping for some 'stuff' before heading off to find a warbler. It's worth noting at this juncture, what a spectacular place Cape Town actually is. To walk out of a major shopping mall, the bright sunny glare clears suddenly revealing the most incredible mountainous vista stretching from one horizon to the next. I haven't come across a city of such size and incomparable beauty anywhere else in the world. [PS: the view across the V&A waterfront towards Table Mountain would have been even better had the city planners not allowed the building of that absolutely atrocious piece of kitsch rubbish of an FNB building to forever blight the mountain.]

Having made a relatively late start, I headed off to Constantia to find the very dull but very endangered Knysna Warbler. A rather dingy individual showed, and not too soon either - twitching for boring birds has never been a personal highlight. I had one last stop to make at the rather beautiful little beach town of Kommetjie for a Cormorant before driving through and beyond Cape Town to spend a night with Shawn, Lauren and young Cooper.

Awake at a reasonable hour for the drive towards Ceres and the beginning of the Karoo! Things were about to get much more exciting than they had been up to this point. I arrived at Karoopoort well after breakfast, to find large stands of Phragmites reeds. This was perfect habitat for Namaqua Warbler, which turned out not to be a shy bird when defending territory. The common stuff was all new and some rare birds were common - I'd take them any way they came of course; White-backed Mousebirds thawing in the early sunshine, Pale-winged Starlings, Tractrac Chat and plenty of Black-headed Canary. The local farmer came over to talk birds and borrow my wheel spanner to help another driver in distress - unfortunately we were all of little use in removing some very tight wheel lugs. [If you have a blow out, don't drive on the rim...]

From here onwards it was going to be a 250km dirt road drive towards Calvinia. I stopped at a pile of rocks named Eierkop. Large-billed Lark had the distinction of being the very first lark of the trip. A dry riverbed contained both Pririt Batis and an eclipse plumaged Dusky Sunbird. With the day starting to heat up, I conspired to get lost on the longest uninterrupted road in South Africa. A missed turnoff cost me 60km's ultimately (and the fuel consumed was equivalent to about the same sum in Rand, or US$6.00 in real money).

Entering Skitterykloof, to look for Cinnamon-breasted Warbler at 14:00 in the afternoon is perhaps not desirable, but I had little other choice. Scrambling up a rocky scree slope paid off when one of the heavily taped out individuals showed briefly. I made a small detour to find the frustrating Karoo Eremomela while picking up Spike-heeled and Red-capped Lark at the same time. The last two hours of dirt road driving towards Calvinia were interrupted by a number of Ludwig's Bustard flyovers and a pair of rather confiding Karoo Korhaans.

I spend most of my life in universal summer, and failed to appreciate that winter was not done in the Cape. Calvinia was bloody cold, so cold that my windscreen was frozen over and I had to wear almost every piece of clothing I had available to me. Shivering and shaking over a cup of coffee, I did my best credit card scrape of the windscreen before heading further north towards the one horse town of Bradvlei. Twenty kilometres shy of the town I pulled over for my first major Lark twitch. I started my search amongst a seemingly barren landscape pitted only by a solitary windmill. Rufous-eared Warbler was refreshingly common and I needed only a few more minutes to nail down the object of my desires, a pair of Red Lark. It must be said that this very late winter / early spring period is fantastic for Larks, most of whom start displaying an hour or so after sunrise. Karoo Scrub Robin quickly became lifer number two for the morning.

Struggle to find a place to have breakfast in the town, but am impressed to find that there is a restaurant called the 'Red Lark' - albeit closed. Breakfast complete, I'm back into the increasingly warm scrubby desert. I am now due to play a waiting game, it works like this. Find one of only a handful of water troughs, place your bets and wait for a lark to pitch up. To say that I am impatient would be an understatement, for ten minutes later I am waling the periphery trying to make things happen. Through nothing much more than pot luck, a Sclater's Lark flushes from nearby, sits on a bush, poses and disappears while I'm still fiddling with autofocus...

With more time available than expected, I try the same tactic at other waterholes. Karoo Long-billed Lark gets twitched, while a flock Namaqua Sandgrouse are in no mood to pose for me. A distant male Black-eared Sparrow-Lark is somewhat disappointing added to the list - I rather fancied getting some images of this fellow. With all targets in the bag, it is back to Calvinia for an afternoon of working on my forthcoming Colombia checklists and rugby.

I have gotten fully into twitching mode and immediately start chopping time of my trip with ambitious driving distances. Leaving Calvinia early, I make quick time to the nearby village of Nieuwoudtville. After many kilometres of seemingly barren Karoo, it is a staggering surprise to suddenly find oneself amongst miles of green grass and numerous flowers. I had barely taken a foot out the car when the distinctive 'wing clapping' of a Cape Clapper Lark could be heard nearby. Hell it was cold though, upon closer inspection the road verges were all solidly frozen. With the sun just clearing the horizon, the larks had positioned themselves in a rather un-photographical position. I had stopped climbing over fences as of yesterday, I don't doubt that the Dutchmen up here will shoot before asking questions - and may well be further motivated to do so upon hearing my English accent in any case. One target left, which I could hear everywhere but was having rather less luck finding. Against a small, backlit ridge - I could just about discern the outline of what had to have been a Southern Black Korhaan. A quick reposition confirmed to some delight that I was indeed looking at one of the more sexy bustard beasts.

With great distances still to cover and an abject lack of traffic cops, I could 'get the hammer down'. The morning was spent driving over and down the Bokkeveld escarpment to reach the edge of the Nama Karoo at Vanrhynsdorp before turning north to Springbok. I barely paused for breath in Springbok, knocking off the remaining 140kms to the coastal town of Port Nolloth in time for lunch. Five kilometres north of the town, Barlow's Lark was ticked and photographed. Five kilometres south of town and it was much the same for Cape Long-billed and Karoo Lark. Back in the car for the 140km's back to Springbok for the night. In retrospect, I should have stayed the night in Port Nolloth and worked on my photography for a little longer.

Twitching this had become and twitching it would stay. Depart Springbok bright and early heading for the town of Pofadder. I had no idea at this point that I would still be driving some 14hours later, part of a 1000km day... Anyhow, at the moment dawn was breaking and there were more Larks to find. From Pofadder I hit the dirt road towards the South African / Namibian border town of Onseepkans on the Orange River. I was now becoming increasingly target driven. Stark's Lark - tick, photo, next. Stop, Namaqua Sandgrouse - photo, next. I took a half hour breather and spent some time trying to get photos instead of simply chasing ticks. Acacia Pied Barbet and Scaly-feathered Weaver proved decent adversaries. Then it was off to complete the 50km long dirt road. Arriving on the border town I was quick to scramble amongst the few patches of palm tree for Rosy-faced Lovebird. I spent 30minutes dashing around like a ricochet before focussing properly and finding what I was after. Though well seen, these parrots had little time for sitting still and waiting while I tried to get photographs. Swallow-tailed Bee-eaters were much keener to play ball, and my as yet uninhibited approach to taking plenty of shots resulted in a few decent action shots. Orange River White-eye responded well to tape, though it had seemed completely non-existent before that.

Birds in the bag for the day, it was now a case of seeing just how far I could get. Sociable Weaver increased exponentially just outside of Pofadder, but I could not find an African Pygmy Falcon to add to my South Africa list just yet. With the journey going well, I wondered if I might reach Kimberley by evening. I was already 2-3 days ahead of schedule, reaching Kimberley tonight would significantly shorten my plans. Then I made a spurious decision to drive up to Augrabies National Park. Ostensibly this was to twitch Short-toed Rock Thrush, though it took me a few hours to establish that not only had I dipped, but that I had no need to look for it in any case - having ticked it many years ago already. Twat - those two and a half hours had almost certainly consigned me to spending the night in Upington instead. As it happens, I went on a mission - through Upington and onwards, foot as flat as I dared - even passing the police who showed little inclination to follow me. If I was risking anything, it was driving at night with Kudu feeding on the road verges. Despite my speed and the lighting, I did have the opportunity to watch a skittish Kudu get back on 'his' side of the fence. A languid, effortless jump from a standing start over the 21 strand, three metre high fence. At least if I was on a collision coarse with one, it would probably only scratch the roof with its hooves.

Up and going early in the morning, I headed to the 'Big Hole' in down town Kimberley to find one last lifer - Bradfield's Swift. Having first mis-identified the large pile of rubble to the left of the parking lots as being 'the hole', I managed without embarrassment to find the real hole. A part of me expected it to be simply a large hole in the ground, not one ensconced, stadium style by walkways and shops. I tried entering at 07:00 to be confronted by a bevvy of what seemed to me in any case to be local 'guides'. I tried the avoidance approach, gave them a wide berth and sped up my gait. Turns out they were security guards and none too happy with me for trying to give them the slip. The 'hole' only opened at 08:00... Stuff it, I'd simply wait outside for the swifts to appear and then be off. A flutter of adrenalin was proven to be a false start - bloody Little Swifts. Ten minutes later the much larger, dull brown Bradfield's Swift made an appearance clearing the way for me to get a move on. The rest of the trip was a just an asphalt orientated haze, broken only by the bevvy of arsehole drivers that indicated I was nearing Gauteng. It takes a really 'special' kind of cock to drive an M3 or an RS4 with GP tags.

Trying to find a shortcut through the toll roads (something else that doesn't exist in the Cape), I found myself driving the increasingly poor dirt roads of Marikana village - site of a South African Police Service massacre just two years previously. Perhaps not the greatest place in the world to be gallivanting about. I exited post haste just in case I should happen to round a bend and come head to head with one Julius Malema...

And that was that. Just over 5000km of driving and R4800 spent on petrol (US$480) to see 30 lifers, 10 of which were Larks. It was also the dawning of my Love for Larks, a family I am now seriously going to chase... 33 Larks this year alone including the Critically Endangered Beesley's Lark on northern Tanzania. Better yet, I still have options on another two species - both lifers, both endemic to South Africa and both in a lot of trouble. 51 from 97 doesn't sound like much - especially since the easy species have already been taken care of.

A foreigners guide to understanding some place names mentioned above:

Rooi Els = Red Alder (species of tree)

Kommetjie = small basin (referring to the small bay area)

Karoopoort = Karoo gateway, literally a farm at the start of the Karoo.

Eierkop = egg head (small rocky outcrop in an otherwise characterless environment. Probably refers to Ostrich egg fragments found on top of the rocks, no doubt placed there by the San.

Skitterykloof = restless / skittish gap

Calvinia = named after the French religious 'reformer' Jean Calvin. You needn't look very far to see what these religious extremists and brain dead nut cases did to South Africa under the guise of 'god'.

Brandvlei = literally marsh fire, probably best interpreted as Burnt Marsh

Nieuwoudtville = new forest town, perhaps in relation to the unexpected forests and green vegetation that is to be found here in relation to the dry and inhospitable surroundings.

Vanrhynsdorp = I'm guessing slightly, may be named after Rembrandt van Ryn

Pofadder = Puff Adder, a particularly attractive, but dangerously venomous species of snake.

Onseepkans = an opportunity to wash off soap.

Upington - named after Sir Thomas Upington, who was Attorney General and then Prime Minister of the Cape Province.

Kimberley = I am going to post a large piece of 'cut and paste' here from Wikipedia. I urge you to read the entire entry on Kimberley - for it is quite fascinating. After the discovery of diamonds, the general area had no name barring the Dutch farm name of Vooruitzigt. The local prospectors termed the town 'New Rush', but the British were having none of it. Before the British would proclaim the area for the crown, there was a problem. [continued from Wiki]

The delay was in London where Secretary of State for the Colonies, Lord Kimberley, insisted that before electoral divisions could be defined, the places had to receive "decent and intelligible names. His Lordship declined to be in any way connected with such a vulgarism as New Rush and as for the Dutch name, Vooruitzigt … he could neither spell nor pronounce it." The matter was passed to Southey who gave it to his Colonial Secretary J.B. Currey. Roberts writes that "when it came to renaming New Rush, [Currey] proved himself a worthy diplomat. He made quite sure that Lord Kimberley would be able both to spell and pronounce the name of the main electoral division by, as he says, calling it 'after His Lordship'.

And quite rightly so.

The best job in the world?

2014-08-12T11:41:00.005+02:00

Its generally a cold day in hell that I happen to find myself socially interacting with people other than clients. Odd job choice for a misanthropist you might say. However, on the rare occasion that I do find myself conversing with the plebs, I am invariably told that I have such a GREAT job - something to be grateful for even! Who wouldn't want to travel the world for a living? Perception and reality, an estranged couple these days. Once said individual's hamster has been motivated to make a few revolutions they realise that this is pure romanticism. And grateful for what exactly? Are you grateful for your office job? Why is my job so different that I need to be grateful anyway?

There is clearly a disconnect between the volume of countries I visit and the patently self evident travel that this involves. Sure, I see many, many countries and places, but think about how I get there. I'm not sure what image people get into their heads regarding just what it is that I do. I'm most certainly not jetting off to the Caribbean to lie on a beach for 6 weeks. I facilitate, I teach - ultimately I make things happen so that my clients have a seamless and enjoyable holiday. Unlike most tour reps, guides, operators - whatever term you wish to use, I don't specialise in a country or region, but a subject. I never get to sit back and relax once I know one country - for we travel to over 100 countries and offer 200 different tours covering over 10 000 species of birds and a few thousand mammals.

Most people like more than a little routine, call it societal conformity - the only thing routine about my life is change (and waking up 04:00 almost every morning - birds get up early). I have no base, no home, no country, too many nationalities and even more identities. For years I have spent my life living out of a suitcase. The most consecutive days I have spent in one location this year is 13 days. I spend almost all my life in the 'summer' of the world's tropics. Its hot, humid, full of biting/stinging organisms and rains a lot. Things you take for granted are a complete waste of my life - I don't own a TV, furniture, cannot have any pets and probably shouldn't involve myself in any form of relationship. Aside from the incredible wildlife I bear witness to, the highlight of my day/week/month is getting a half decent internet connection and a hot shower. Grateful, yes - for the things you take for granted.

Diatribe, sure - but this is far from being a general whinge about my life. This is in fact a lifestyle that suits me perfectly - and I love it. So, do you really want to do my job?

Flights : 2014

Basic flight paths for the year - single lines like Johannesburg (JNB) to Brazil (GRU) are 4 flights, not 1!

By the time this year is over, I'll will have effectively flown around the world 4 times.

57 flights, of which :

18 Inter-continental (i.e. Africa to South America - long flights!)
17 Intra-continental (i.e. within Africa - medium length flights)
22 Domestic (i.e. within South Africa)

Total flying time : 215 hours (9 days)
Distance Travelled : 152 192 kilometres (94 568 miles)

Average Flight : 2 670km (3.5 hours)

Countries : 2014

Total visited : 21

I spent 9 days/nights inside a plane. Otherwise I spent the following nights per country.
(X) signifies number of transits.

126 South Africa
(2) Netherlands
(6) Panama
21 Guatemala
17 Dominican Republic
16 Jamaica
21 Cuba
(2) USA
1 Lesotho
08 Kenya
14 Tanzania
02 Singapore
25 Papua New Guinea
13 Indonesia
(2) UAE
06 Switzerland
05 UK
(4) Brazil
17 Paraguay
49 Colombia
16 Ecuador

Boarding Passes for July and August 2014

Highlights : 2014

Guatemala (Jan)

Lago Atitlan, Coffee fincas, Volcanic highlands, hiking up Volcan San Pedro 3 times and getting to grips with one of the world's most impressive birds, Horned Guan. Mayan architecture at Tikal.

Jamaica (Feb)

Home of Bob Marley, Rastafarians and a pile of endemics birds. Managed one decent shot of a
Red-billed Streamertail - smashing Hummingbird.

Dominican Republic (Feb)

Another Caribbean island, more great birds and equally friendly people. Tragically getting destroyed by the people of Haiti. Collected the full set of endemics over the course of two visits.

Cuba (March)

Third of the four Greater Antillean islands and had been one of my favourite countries. Nailed all the usual endemics, including this Cuban Emerald.

Tanzania & Kenya (May)

Highest mountains in Africa, largest mammal concentrations in the world. Too many plaudits - must visit destination.

Papua New Guinea (July)

Remote, multiple Bird-of-paradise species, 90% virgin forest. Difficult logistics, expensive and mostly inept. Nothing much else to be said.

Sulawesi, Indonesia (August)

With almost 100 endemic birds, Sulawesi is a mega bird destination. Throw in some Critically endangered mammals and particularly good spicy food. Great-billed Kingfisher

Still to come

Switzerland (August)

Bird Fair, United Kingdom (August)

South Africa (August)

Paraguay (September)

ABA Conference, South Africa (October)Colombia (November & December)

Ecuador (December)

Antpittas

2013-10-20T09:40:00.001+02:00

Four years ago, I landed in Costa Rica for my first taste of Neotropical birding. As any birder could testify to, there is no ‘easing’ into the Neotropics. I had enough trouble identifying the birds I could comfortably see, without digging for the the skulkers. I had over this short time seen enough to be certain of two things - finding Resplendent Quetzal was tricky and I may as well stop birding without some lengthy trips to the Neotropics. Last year I packed away my life in Europe and returned for an entire years worth of birding in South America.

With liberty to move at will, I set about tackling the difficult and elusive species first, on the assumed basis that the commoner stuff would follow. Spinetails, Woodcreepers, Tyrant flycatchers, other flycatchers, Antbirds, Tapaculos. My introduction was made all the more difficult due to the fact that Argentina is still not in possession of a decent field guide.

As one is bound to do, a favourite family or grouping of birds soon emerges. Perhaps it was on one of my numerous forays through my digitised field guides that it came to me, perhaps not, either way I chose a family that contained a little over 50 species (on a continent that plays host to 3500+). All the more bizarre, I had not even seen a representative of the family yet!. My colours had been nailed squarely to the Grallariidae mast. Long-legged, short-tailed, drab, a little bit squat with large dark eyes and a generally repetitive, somewhat haunting voice. Practically tied to the ground, the Antpitta family are for all money, the birding worlds version of ghosts. Living predominantly in the mist and cloud shrouded forests of the Andes, they move stealthily about seemingly intent on avoiding peering binoculars and cameras.

Over the course of the last year I managed to lay my eyes on some of them, my camera lens on only a fraction. I have sat for hours waiting, crawled through wet leaves and mud, route marched to high altitude bamboo forests and for the most part failed miserably in my quest to get but a glimpse. They certainly aren’t overly attractive or even particularly rare for the most part, but they are without doubt my most sought after and equally frustrating birds in South America.

The short excerpts below reflect some of my successes and failures. Some of the text was originally published on this blog. Many of the photos are courtesy of some of the great team of birders and photographers I work with at Rockjumper Worldwide Birding Adventures :

Adam Riley
Luis Segura
Forrest Roland
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Variegated Antpitta, Grallaria varia
22/08/2012. Urugua-i Provincial Park, Misiones, Argentina

Having spent the better part of two days searching the Misiones forests, I finally connected with my first Antpitta - 53 days after the tour started.

Just then, a bird flushed off the path. Must have been a thrush, other than doves they are the only things that sit on paths. The bird has landed where I can still see it though, even if behind plenty of tangles. My tongue almost falls out of my mouth, I want to do a jig, I really want to get a photo too - but there is no chance in hell I am going to get an image. My long sought after Variegated Antpitta, at 14:00 in the afternoon. I sit down on the path and hope that it might consider coming back out to do whatever it was doing when I disturbed it. After 20 minutes my patience ebbs, it is clearly not coming back out. A few yards down the path I find the likely reason for the bird being in the open like this - a thick trail of large ants.

Tick number 1, in the bag.

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Speckle-breasted Antpitta, Hylopezus nattereri
25/08/2012. San Sebastian de la Selva, Misiones, Argentina

My next Antpitta would not require another 53 days of birding, only 3 on this occasion. This was an unintended tick, for the purpose of my twitch this morning was a different beast - the Spotted Bamboowren. I’d win on both accounts thanks to my own persistence and Ramon Moller Jensen, top bird photographer and owner of San Sebastian de la Selva.

Breakfast at 07:00 before Ramon was due to take me off to find Spotted Bamboowren. Filled up on coffee and then got an unexpected bonus, there would be no long walk to the top of the property, Ramon and I jumped onto an ATV and headed up at speed. Arriving at the site, Ramon hauled out two very large machetes - just in case some trail clearance was required. We headed along a small trail, but machetes were not required. Just before reaching the Bamboowren site, Ramon heard a Speckle-breasted Antpitta calling. Out came the mobile phone and he started some playback. We were in luck, our bird was interested and crept over to see who was invading his patch. Not the greatest view, but as anyone that has ever seen an Antpitta will testify, good views are nigh near impossible. Happy to add a second Antpitta in a matter of days.

This was starting to feel a little easy.

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White-throated Antpitta, Grallaria albigula
04/10/2012. Calilegua National Park, Argentina
06/12/2012. San Jacinto, Bolivia

Argentina had only one species of Antpitta left to get, and I would get it at Calilegua National Park where everyone else seems to find it easily. I had already spent an entire day and afternoon searching for this apparently common species. It would happen though, my last morning confined me to defeat.

Another early start. I would not be cycling today, only walking for 5-6km’s up the road and along the river. Unfortunately, I was unable to add the list - if there were White-throated Antpittas here, they certainly weren’t making their presence known. I resigned myself to dipping on a host of species and shifted back to camp.

A few months later I was starting to cycle my way out of Bolivia.

Villa Tunari sits just over 200masl, by the end of the day I am expecting to reach 1900masl. Once I get to the 1200masl level, the cloud forest lives up to it’s name. Thick cloud and rain make the riding conditions treacherous. I pass a recently crashed truck which somehow managed to make a 90 degree exit on one of the few straight pieces of road.

The rain intensifies, but onward and upward I go. I hear a familiar call bleating out of a roadside bush. A little thought before I check the calls on my iPhone. This is a bird I last chased in north western Argentina some months back. I get the playback going and within a few minutes manage to obtain a rather silhouetted view of a White-throated Antpitta. For all the hours that I walked around the beautiful Yungas of Calilegua National Park trying to find this bird, it shows on the side of a busy motorway in blinding cloud and heaving rain!

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Undulated Antpitta, Grallaria squamigera

19/01/2013. Bosque Ampay, Peru

Bosque Ampay sits above the town of Abancay, a place of towering mountains and deep valleys in the Chalhuanca Valley. My first attempt at Undulated Antpitta came a few hours after some of the most crushing days I had spent in the saddle.

Up early for my trip to Bosque Ampay. It is Saturday, the streets deserted at 05:45. It only takes a minute or so to find a taxi. Some banged up old Toyota, but it manages the steep uphill out of town as well as the rutted climb up to the entrance of Ampay. There isn’t much to see outside except a vertical cliff face in front of me - the path goes straight up it. After all the climbing I have done on the bike, my legs are not looking forward to doing it all again on foot.

I take slowly to the task at hand, the trail continuing onwards and upwards at a crushingly painful gradient. After 90 minutes I reach the first dense Podocarpus forest of the climb. Undulated Antpitta calls from various places, but none near to the paths.

I would return to Abancay on two further occasions with Adrian. We would again hear them calling, but no visuals were ever had.
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Bay Antpitta, Grallaria capitalis
19/03/2013. Paty Trail, Huanuco, Peru

Adrian and I had walked a good section of the Paty Trail, all the time aware that the longer we walked the more painful the climb back up would be. We pause at one of the few clearings, the base of a massive electricity pylon. The opening allows some unhindered birding and we take full advantage.

During a lull in the birding, we hear a mournful call emanating from a nearby clump of trees. Neither of us can pick it, but it sounds like an Antpitta. Not overly useful as there are a number of species here. I run through the playlist quickly and decide that this is a Bay Antpitta.

With camera and bins ready, I start the process of luring the little fellow in - it’s a bit like fishing, sometimes they bite - mostly they don’t. The bird does come in, we both manage half obscured views from 6feet. There won’t be any images of this chap, but it is another good species in the bag. It only occurs to me now that this is Adrian’s very first Antpitta - a Puruvian Endemic to boot.

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Pale-billed Antpitta, Grallaria carrikeri

Rusty-tinged Antpitta, Grallaria przewalskii

26/03/2013. Rio Chido Trail, Pomacochas, Peru

This will go down as one of the hardest birding days I have yet encountered. It will also be remembered as one of my most disappointing days out, despite being a mostly successful effort.

Another early start to get up the Rio Chido Trail. The trail head was only three kilometres from town, but the hike itself was going to be savage. We began our climb at 06:00 and did not reach the bamboo forests until gone midday. A haphazard affair with many wrong turns and even more stops. We paused to rest and breathe every 50-60 metres for the first few hours. The mountain crushed us for most of the day. At least we were adding the odd species, some of which were particularly important. However, the major target (Pale-billed Antpitta) of the climb did not make an appearance, not even a squeak.

There was little consolation to be had from any of the other Antpittas or Tapaculos. We had to be satisfied with our haul, which admittedly did include Lulu’s Tody Flycatcher at 3 feet... The walk down only took a few hours, while easier on the lungs, it was horrendous on the knees and ankles.

I would learn later that a much easier and more accessible site for the Pale-billed had been found, but it was too late for either of us to tackle it.

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Chestnut-crowned Antpitta, Grallaria ruficapilla

27/03/2013. Near Chachapoyas, Peru.

Adrian and I had only just put our aching legs and disappointment of the Pale-billed Antpitta effort behind us when we got rather lucky. While driving the Leimebamba road I stopped for a short bird break. Ostensibly, I had pulled over near a large bush of flowers to look for Hummingbirds when we heard a familiar call. Chestnut-crowned Antpitta had spouted a few notes yesterday without display, today it was close - very close.

We tried some playback without success. The bushes in front of us contained the bird - we just could see it, despite their practically barren state. Adrian got onto the bird but was unable to guide me onto it. In fact it took a good 5 minutes of relocating the bird before I saw it. Perhaps a small amount of redemption after yesterdays efforts.

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Stripe-headed Antpitta, Grallaria andicolus
02/04/2013. Huascaran National Park, Yungay, Peru

The redemption would continue for us a week later with some of the most uninterrupted views of an Antpitta I had experienced to date. Huascaran National Park in the Ancash mountains of Peru has probably the largest undivided polylepis forest I have witnessed in all of South America.

We would find only one Stripe-headed Antpitta - but it would also sit high above ground level posing for photos. I could probably have gotten an autograph had I thought to offer the wee fellow a pen and paper. We would see this bird again a few weeks later at Abra Malaga. _________________________________________________________________

Rufous Antpitta, Grallaria rufula

Tawny Antpitta, Grallaria guitensis
Crescent-faced Antpitta, Grallaricula lineifrons
19/05/2013. Termes de Papallacta, Ecuador

I spent just over two weeks in Ecuador, and it rained on every single day of my trip. I had had to give up on birding the Amazonian lowlands as well as Guacamayos Ridge. Despite the freezing conditions and light drizzle, the break in complete cloud cover allowed me to bird the patchy forests above the Termes de Papallacta. The rain and cloud would make the afternoon miserable, but I was able to get good views of two new Antpittas in the space of a few minutes. While the Rufous Antpitta played hard to see, the Tawny was more easily located. I ran out of luck trying to find Crescent-faced Antpitta, probably one of the hardest of the family to see anywhere. I would see Rufous and Tawny again - on both occasions I would get face to face, out in the open, completely uninterrupted views. More remarkably, neither of the birds were fed or habituated - nor did I have to tape them in.

A few weeks later I would get some of my best views of an Antpitta. While trudging about Nevado del Ruiz, a huge volcano in central Colombia - I came across the most extroverted of Tawny Antpittas.

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Giant Antpitta, Grallaria gigantea
Moustached Antpitta, Grallaria alleni
Yellow-breasted Antpitta, Grallaria flavotincta
Ochre-breasted Antpitta, Grallaricula flavirostris

22/05/2013. Paz de las Aves, Mindo, Ecuador

The Paz family did something remarkable many years ago. Firstly, they turned their backs on logging and then they started feeding antpittas. The story is well written and widely known about (see more here - Paz de las Aves website). I certainly didn’t pass up the opportunity to bag some ‘easy’ antpittas.

At least thats the theory. True to form, there was a hitch. Maria (Giant) was sitting on eggs and Willie (Yellow-breasted) wouldn’t play ball either. In the end, Angel did manage to coax out two other species : Moustached (Jose) and Ochre-breasted (Shakira). I don’t particularly care how many trips I need to find Maria and Willie - I’ll certainly be back.

Shakira, the Ochre-breasted Antpitta is so named due to it's 'dance'. Apparently this 'Shakira' person is a dancer?

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Chestnut-crowned Antpitta, Grallaria ruficapilla
Bicolored Antpitta, Grallaria rufocinerea
Chestnut-naped Antpitta, Grallaria nuchalis
Slaty-crowned Antpitta, Grallaria nana

Brown-banded Antpitta, Grallaria milleri
04/06/2013. Rio Blanco, Manizales, Colombia

I’ve mentioned five species of Antpitta available at Rio Blanco, these are just the regulars that visit the worm feeders - 10 have been recorded in this small forested reserve protected by Manizales Water. Colombia fortunately has a number of protected areas due to water security concerns. The down side is that these are not run as tourist areas - meaning bureaucracy! What should have been a mere 4-5 Antpitta species formality turned to dust.

I received little help from the local governmental body, given that I arrived in Manizales on a Sunday (Monday was a Public Holiday) - I suppose this was not all that surprising. I decided to try my luck and go to the gate in any case. This approach did not work however as they refused to open the gate without a permit. Given the time constraints and days of the week, I was not able to visit the reserve and went to Nevado del Ruiz instead.

One shouldn’t bank on anything in advance - but I felt rather gutted to miss out on such a large spread of ‘easy’ Antpittas. All I have as comfort is the knowledge that when I return in November 2014 - my contact that proved rather unhelpful is actually going to be my guide here!
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Chestnut-naped Antpitta, Grallaria nuchalis

Slaty-crowned Antpitta, Grallaria nana
05/06/2013. Loro Orejiamarillo Reserve, Jardin, Colombia

Having overfed on Antpittas during my short tour through Ecuador, I had to wait a little to find my next twitches. My trip to the Loro Orejiamarillo Reserve had nothing to do with Antpittas on the surface - I was here to see the Yellow-eared Parrot, the entire known population isolated to this tiny patch of forest around the town of Jardin. Having had an excellent mornings birding with the resident guide Edwar Guarin, allowed us to focus on the less targeted species. Edwar managed to pull out two new Antpitta’s for me, although he was more excited about the Andean Pygmy Owl we saw!

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White-bellied Antpitta, Grallaria hypoleuca
09/06/2013. Arrierito Antioqueno Reserve, Anori, Colombia

I was starting to get a little better at finding Antpittas by this point of the trip - what a pity I had been so poor at it in Peru! This ProAves reserve of Arrierito Antioqueno was again not high on my Antpitta list - my main focus was on the other 9 country endemics found here. I would get all but one as well as picking up White-bellied Antpitta. I fully expected to get better views of this bird elsewhere, but it turned out to be my only success.

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Rusty-breasted Antpitta, Grallaricula ferrugineipectus

Santa Marta Antpitta, Grallaria bangsi

Santa Marta Rufous Antpitta, Grallaria spatiator (rufula)
25/06/2013. Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, Colombia

My tour of South America was coming to a end, and I had left the best for last. The isolated Andean mountain range of Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta host 21 species found no-where else on the planet. A number of others will soon be added to that list, including the isolated Rufous Antpitta sub-species.

I initially found success on the lower slopes near Minca. The Grallaricula Antpittas are awfully small, one might even say cute. The Rusty-breasted’s didn’t dance for me like their more southerly cousin, the Ochre-breasted. Further up the mountain I locked into both the Santa Marta and soon to be elevated Santa Marta Rufous Antpittas. It was back to form for both these birds, barely visible among the tangled foliage. As I rode down the mountain for the last time, I had seen the last of my favourite family. In a few weeks time I would have flown from Colombia to Spain, England, Germany, Dubai and finally South Africa. As I sit typing this final entry, I am conscious of the days ticking away until I land in Colombia again - this time I’ll have access to Rio Blanco and another hatful of species.

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The final tally then, I have recorded 17 of currently described 51 species. Tried and dipped on a further 15 species meaning I have not even given myself a chance with a further 19! Quite unbelievable given the vast distances and areas I covered in the Andes looking for the little buggers. Lots more work required and hopefully many more photos to come. Bring on Colombia 2014.

Mission Complete

2013-07-11T15:06:00.000+02:00

I’ve been rather quiet as of late, but be assured there is a good reason for this. While some might have suspected something was up, only a few people knew where I was, less knew where I was going.

Where have I been and what have I been doing?

My South American expedition officially came to an end on the 3rd of July 2013, 1 year and 4 days after it started. Total statistics to follow below. While the 3rd of July may have been the last day of this particular tour, it was the start of some rather more arduous travel which went something like this :

03/07/2013

Flight from Cartagena to Bogota (01:27 hours)

Flight from Bogota to Madrid (09:38 hours)

04/07/2013

Flight from Madrid to London (02:25 hours)

Spent the night in London while running about trying to retrieve some of my equipment that Adrian kindly stored for me. Unfortunately, Adrian had stored it in a rather useless manner in a facility that is not open 24hrs. Back again the next morning to find what I could and leave behind a lot that I couldn’t. Quick cab across south London to my old employers to collect a credit card and say hello to everyone. The credit card hadn’t arrived, rather redundant trip half way across the world as it turned out.

Scoot back to the hotel, repack my gear and head back to London, Heathrow.

05/07/2013

Flight from London to Berlin (01:50 hours)

Flight from Berlin to Abu Dhabi (06:00 hours)

06/07/2013

Flight from Abu Dhabi to Johannesburg (09:35 hours)

Had to get my poor parents to drive all the way to the airport in order to arrange a rental car. This was necessary after my bank failed yet again to get my credit card to me. Night drive from Johannesburg to Bela Bela. Spend the day with my parents having some very decent food and sleeping in a room on my own for a change!

07/07/2013

Woke up early, perhaps my body clock still confused. Spent the day chatting, eating and watching the television.

08/07/2013

Up at 03:45 for the long drive to Pietermaritzburg some 750km’s away. The winter morning staying dark long past 07:00. Not that I sat on the motorway all day, many stops were taken to bird along the way. A quick stop at the Sterkfontein Dam gave me the opportunity to show distant Mountain Reedbuck to some young British tourists. Drove into Pietermaritzburg in the early afternoon, arriving at the head office of Rockjumper Worldwide Birding Adventures. I didn’t make those arduous flights or drives for nothing, I was here for an interview. Spent the late evening and dinner chatting informally with Adam and some of the team. Got to stay the night at the bosses house.

09/07/2013

I somehow slept in late, my future boss (hopefully at this point) woke me up after 08:00. After breakfast, we were back down to informal chatting before I was offered the job and some time to consider the offer. Time to consider? I had no need for that - I had spent the best part of the last two years planning for this very moment. The whole point of my trip to South America was justified as work experience first, birding and adventure second. The culmination of the last two years of my life was offered and I wasn’t about to dither.

Five minutes later and I was having my photo taken for the new brochure and online bio. I am the newest Rockjumper Tour Leader and still rather struggling to come to terms with it. I wish I had a tail, for I could at least wag something in excitement. However, it is time to start studying. I have an action packed schedule coming up over the next 18 months with trips to various parts of the world, including amongst others : India, Sri Lanka, Guatemala, Panama, Dominican Republic, Jamaica, Cuba, Cameroon, Papua New Guinea, western South Africa and 3 months in my favourite birding country - Colombia.

10/07/2013

Time to assimilate, need to arrange sim card, bank accounts and a huge spectrum of other bits and pieces.

South American Statistics

Total Species Recorded : 1791

Birds : 1628
Lifers : 1446

Mammals : 55
Lifers : 49

Reptiles : 15

Lifers : 13

139 Endemics by Country

Argentina : 7

Brazil : 4

Bolivia : 6

Peru : 73

Ecuador : 5

Colombia : 44

Distances and Modes of Transport

Total Distance : 54 477km

Cycling : 7 865km
Bus : 3 425km
Hiking : 1 498km

Ferry : 270km

Taxi : 500km

Motorbike : 15 503km

Hire Car : 6 942km

Train : 660km

Running : 20km

Flights : 22 579km

Days in Country

Argentina : 74
Uruguay : 17

Brazil : 21

Bolivia : 59

Peru : 145

Ecuador : 15

Colombia : 37

View South America Tour in a larger map

Red - Cycling
Blue - Car rental with Adrian
Green - Motorbike rental with Adrian
Gold - Motorbike