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Late on our final day on Boigu, making our way back
to the boat, the tired group was stretched out over about four or five hundred
metres. Mike Carter, Bill Watson and I were at the rear of the group, when a
pair of Collared Imperial-Pigeon flew directly over our heads,
their breasts glowing pink in the afternoon tropical light.
I looked for the others and to my dismay they
were all out of sight, having already reached the village. Knowing that they
would be in agony if they missed these cripplers (Birding paradox no
273: it is those who don't get a crippler that end up in agony), I
charged off after them. As I ran yelling and screaming through the village, the
locals began cracking up in fits of laughter, helped no doubt, by the fact that
my pack had fallen open and its contents were now spilling the length of the
village. By the time I'd got everyone's attention I'd screamed myself
hoarse and could barely get an audible croak out. They rushed back, leaving me a panting heap on the street. Needless to say, the birds had flown.
Turns out my mad dash was doubly in vain as we all
got superb views of this species, including one at perch, on Saibai, our
next port of call. Saibai, though further south,
is actually closer to PNG than Boigu, so its not surprising this species
was to be found here as well as many others. In two days we saw seventy
plus species including two additions for me: Little-bronze and
Shining-bronze Cuckoo. Unbelievably, I hadn't
seen the latter species till now- well not that unbelievable as I know
that David Andrew got to almost six hundred and fifty species in Australia
without seeing this relatively common species. Similarly I have missed out on
both the Trillers so far this year, both of which were seen by virtually
everybody else. At one point several people were pointing out a Varied Triller
in a bush directly in front of me and I still couldn't get onto it. Talk
about blowing your credibility.
But the really important bird on Saibai I was
fortunate enough not to miss- a male Papuan Flowerpecker.
Though probably resident on Saibai, this was I believe, only the third
Australian record. Unfortunately only half the party got to see it, the other
half being on the opposite side of the village, about three kilometres away- too
far for a mad dash.
Onto Darnley Island, a "continental" style island
right out on the Eastern extremity of the Strait, much more like Dauan. Though
failing to add anything new here, the birding was very interesting. This
must be Isle of the Rose-crowned Fruit-doves as there were hundreds of them all
about. But most interesting was the variation in some of the common
birds. Whilst trying to relocate a perplexing Cuckoo-dove type thing that Fred
Smith had seen, Neil Macumber, Bill Watson and myself kept seeing
the most unusual Olive-backed Orioles. One looked thickset and large,
rather like a bowerbird, whilst another seemed to have a bill the size and shape
of a Friarbird, and was actually drinking nectar (or water) from a large
frangipani type flower. I think they were all Orioles, but the variation was
quite startling.
Another oddity was the White-eye situation. We
seemed to be seeing two types- one fairly typical of the Pale White-eye,
the other much yellower both on the back and the front. One bird I got a good
look at was only white on the lower belly and vent area. I have a strong
suspicion that one of the forms may actually turn out to be New Guinea
White-eye. If anyone wants to add a new bird for the Oz list, a trip to Darnley,
armed with a mist net, a camera and some decent reference books could be the
go.
Our final day was spent on Dove Islet, a small sand
cay which had nesting Black-naped Tern with
Bridled Tern nearby and Warraber Island which had heaps of
waders and some more typical Pale White-eyes. The trip back to Horn
Island was in winds and seas which so fierce that if it were a boat trip down
South, we would never have set out. At one stage the winds were registering at
37 knots and the waves were rising to almost three metres. It made for a very
subdued final night celebrations.
And we had a lot to celebrate. Everyone got at
least two lifers (even Mike and Fred) but the trip held more pleasures
than just birds. Snorkeling the small reef off Darnley was a highlight for
me, but just being on that great boat in that part of the world, becoming
familiar with the rhythm of the sea, sitting on deck, eating dinner beneath
another glorious tropical sunset, after a long day's birding with a group of
like minded souls was pretty tough to get used to.
I had spent the weeks previous pretty
much alone in the Outback and had been looking forward to the company,
and I can safely say that after ten days in the company of nine other
birders for twenty-four hours a day, gee I was glad to be alone
again.
Sean Dooley, August 30, 563 species.
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