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The Big Twitch and the Neil Diamond Fan (Lord Howe Part Two)

To: "birding-aus" <>
Subject: The Big Twitch and the Neil Diamond Fan (Lord Howe Part Two)
From: "Sean Dooley" <>
Date: Mon, 11 Nov 2002 09:57:21 +0800
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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