Despite all the tragic loss of birdlife on Lord
Howe, there is one outstanding conservation triumph- the Lord Howe Woodhen. By
the early Twentieth Century these birds had been hunted out from the lowlands
and a small population clung to survival on the inaccessible tops of Mount Gower
and Lidgbird. They even seemed to cope with the introduction of the rats, but by
the late 1970s less than forty birds remained. And so began a concerted recovery
effort involving the extermination of cats, pigs and goats; the enhancing
of habitat; and a captive breeding program. Today the population is now
said to be at around 200 birds and it is not unusual to encounter them around
the settlement area.
Indeed one was seen at Somerset Lodge where I was
staying while I was out looking for them out in the forest. Typical. I'd been
told Little Island was the most likely spot, but after an hour of stooging
around I wasn't so sure. Apparently the birds are attracted to strange
noises and can be lured in simply by banging two rocks together. After
reducing two rocks to gravel I began to suspect that the whole rock banging
thing was just a local ploy to create fresh soil for the island.
I remembered reading an account of an early Woodhen
hunter attracting the birds to their doom with ridiculous ease simply by coming
out with noises the birds had never heard before. A century and a half on,
I wondered, what sound would a contemporary Woodhen never have been exposed
to? My answer- rap music. And so, in the middle of the forest on a small island
in the South Pacific MC Doolio began an impromptu vocal
performance. The birds wouldn't have a bar of it. I tried a bit of James
Brown- he can go please, please himself as he certainly doesn't please the ears
of a Woodhen. I tried all sorts of sounds from Kylie to Monty Python without any
luck.
But I did discover that Woodhens are really
into Neil Diamond. Not the entire Neil Diamond catalogue, just the "Good Lord!"
from the intro to "Crunchy Granola Suite". This was the only noise that they
responded to. As soon as I had uttered "Good Lord!" a pair of Lord
Howe Island Woodhen answered. The birds were incredibly tame,
unconcerned with my presence, blithely feeding around my feet, but everytime I
hollered "Good Lord" they would respond with up to ten seconds of shrieking.
Lord Howe's other main birding highlight is its
seabirds. Fourteen species breed here and by early October they are almost
all in attendance though most of the Providence Petrels have finished breeding
and Black-winged Petrels were due to arrive any day. Both Wedge-tailed and
Flesh-footed Shearwaters were just beginning their breeding cycle. One evening I
walked down to Ned's Beach to watch the Fleshy-foots come into their burrows- a
potentially dangerous pastime as the birds don't seem to have any braking system
and come careening in to crash land at the edge of the forest, several times
missing me by inches.
But I was after two species in particular- Little
Shearwater and White-bellied Storm-Petrel- both of which are very hard to see
from the main island. I needed to get out to Ball's Pyramid, the world's tallest
sea stack which rises spectacularly out of the ocean South of the main island. I
had outlined my wishes when booking my accommodation and I must have sounded so
plaintive in my desperation that getting me out to the Pyramid seemed to
preoccupy half of the island's population.
I had planned to go out with Jack Shick who runs a
small boat and has been known to be the only boatman willing to take birders,
but on arriving I was informed that another boat was going
out two days hence and they needed me to make up the numbers. The
next day was perfect weather for a boat trip, and predictably, the day after was
blowing a gale and the trip was cancelled. I only had one more day of my
trip left.
I met Ian Hutton, Lord Howe's resident bird
expert, and he said he knew of a site where Little Shearwaters were breeding on
the main island. Despite being stricken with flu, I dragged Ian off his death
bed that night and we cycled across the island through rain so thick I lost
sight of him ten metres ahead of me. Thoroughly sodden, we managed to find
three Little Shearwaters, two adults and an adorable chick
looking very penguin-like with its white face emerging from a ball of
fluffy grey down.
Next morning the wind was still ablowin'. It
was due to ease so Bondy the boatman promised we would go out at
Midday. At noon we gathered with the waves still showing plenty of
white-caps.I was happy to go out in it, but three people decided not to risk
it. With only seven passengers, Bondy still took us out, but as a couple of
them started to look very green I was worried that if they were sick he would
turn the boat around. The race was on to get the Storm-Petrels before this
happened.
Trouble is, they are only found on the deep waters
in the oceanic trench between Lord Howe and Ball's which is a bumpy hour's sail.
After much anxiety I finally spotted a White-bellied
Storm-Petrel. A minute later the first tourist vomited. By then we were
tantalisingly close to Ball's Pyramid, which is such a breathtakingly striking
edifice that even the sickies wanted to press on. I ended up seeing eight
Storm-Petrels as well as some great birds including masses of Grey Ternlets,
possibly the cutest sea bird going round, and several Kermadec Petrels wheeling
about the impressive spire of the Pyramid.
And so the next morning I flew out, craning my head
to catch one last glimpse of this amazing island, my total now on 617. The mass
of the Australian continent loomed before me, awaiting my last big birding
onslaught.
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