"And after forty days in the wilderness the
Lord took him to the mountaintop and below stretched a vast green plain, and the
Lord said, behold, the Land of Milk and Honeyeaters"
-The Book of Twitchodus 13:44
OK, maybe I am getting slightly carried away, but
no birder can approach the north-east corner of Queensland, without getting just
a little bit over excited. In the past two weeks, despite intensive birding in
the parched interior, I'd only managed to add seven species to the year's total.
Once in the Wet Tropics, I added that many in a couple of hours.
I spent my last night in the interior in
Hughenden, and no offence to Hughenden, but I would have thought there wasn't
much there to interest the international tourist- they have a fossil museum and
that seems about it- yet the place was jumping, absolutely chockers with
backpackers. I had to fight for the last available bed in town. I was so
distracted I managed to lose my notebook- not my birding one (I have that
stapled to my body) but the one with all my contacts and bits of gen. A bit of
blow, but luckily much of it was backed up on the computer.
I first hit the coast at Townsville, which I always
thought of as pretty dry, but coming from the drought stricken
inland, it seemed positively verdant. Naturally my first stop was the wonderful Town Common where even though
standing water was scarce, birds were still in abundance. Without much trouble I
added Yellow-bellied Sunbird, White-throated, Brown-backed,
Rufous-throated and Scarlet Honeyeater (the last two new for my
Townsville list), Blue-winged Kookaburra, and Nutmeg
Mannikin as well as Brolga, Jabiru and Pheasant Coucal.
And I just couldn't resist detouring up to Paluma
to go to the Ivy Cottage Tea Gardens to experience the delights of having
your cup of tea upset by Macleay's Honeyeater, your jam
and scones pilfered by a Victoria Riflebird which then
celebrates its crime with a mating dance right above your head, shuffling its
amazing iridescent blues and blacks. Add to the mix Pale Yellow
and Grey-headed Robin, White-cheeked Honeyeater, Satin
Bowerbird and Spotted Catbird, and I can think of no better
introduction to the birds of the Wet Tropics than this. And to top it off,
a Yellow-breasted Boatbill as I was driving back down the
mountain.
And in the remaining hours of daylight as I drove
on to Cairns I managed to add: Green Pygmy Goose, Helmeted Friarbird,
Crimson Finch and White-rumped Swiftlet.
And with a pair of Beach Stone-curlews noisily circling my
motel in Cairns, I managed to add 17 species on my first full day in North
Queensland and I hadn't really done any serious birding. Now can you see
why I was so excited?
I spent a couple of days in Cairns tending to
non-birding matters such as seeing a Doctor about what shots I would need for
Torres Strait. He said I was leaving too soon for a Japanese Encephalitis
shot to be effective (the disease I was most worried about)
and as there had been no recent notifications of malaria, I wouldn't need
to take anything for that. He suggested I simply try not to get bitten. Easy for
him to say- he's not the one going to be trudging through mangrove swamps
looking for a new bird for Australia.
He gave me a shot for Hep A and asked if I had any
other health problems. I mentioned the painful swelling that was developing in
the glands under my jaw. He felt them, looking very serious and said, "Have you
ever had mumps?" Mumps? That can make you sterile. With all the DEET laden
insecticide I was slapping over my body, my chances at ever becoming
a Daddy were pretty shaky anyway, but Mumps? I waited for his
prognosis but he got sidetracked talking about the Democrats leadership issue
and half an hour later, when he still hadn't drawn breath I slunk out of
the office, still not knowing whether or not I was going to die.
To cheer myself up I went to two of Cairns'
best birding spots, both of which happen to be right in its midst. When the
thousands of tourists look out over Cairns Esplanade, all they see is a big ugly
patch of mud. I see one of the best wader viewing spots in the
country. Thank God for the tireless locals who have managed to save much of
this exceptional habitat from voracious developers who want to give the tourists
what they think they want. Whilst walking amongst the buffed joggers and
Dutch rollerbladers and sunbaking Germans and hippies in campervans and even
more Brits and bewildered looking Aboriginals, I managed to see over
thirty species without really trying, including ten species of wader,
Varied Honeyeater, and even a pair of Fig Parrots, but
they zipped by so fast I nearly decapitated the Japanese honeymooners strolling
beside me in trying to get a proper, tickable view. No luck I'm afraid, and they
say the bloke will be out of traction by Christmas.
Then at the Centenary Lakes, amongst even more
joggers, I clapped my eyes on my first Large-billed Gerygone,
Scrubfowl and best of all, Little Kingfisher.
This last little blue and white jewel was sitting as bold as brass
on the bridge over the freshwater lake, barely bothering to move for the next
bunch of fitness freaks jogging past in their attempt to remain adequately
buffed.
But reluctantly I had to leave Cairns, (well
actually after two days I'd seen enough and was itching to get away
from all the lurid tourist trappings.) And so, with the list
now on 528, I began heading North, towards the Cape.
Sean Dooley, August
16
