Eaglehawk Neck Pelagic 1-2 February

January was not an easy month for me. I had an ER room visit and hospital stay as well as the return of bouts of migraines with vertigo. But I have some hope now. I have begun a quest toward finding some answers regarding my ‘gut’ issues. My attending surgeon in hospital has followed up my obstruction with an MRI and is referring me to a gastroenterologist. I will be having a procedure in the coming weeks. I hope to finally have some answers and treatment plans.

Last Thursday I did a post about my beautiful new PRBY apparel Painted Bunting t-shirt and although I did not go into it, but I was feeling unwell that day. 

         

New PRBY shirt. I love their shirts!

It turned out to “just” be a bad migraine, and with rest and medication, it passed. Sometimes they last for 3 days or more, but this one did not. I was able to get on a plane on Friday and fly down to Tasmania for the weekend. I am indeed grateful. As I am editing this entry, I feel somewhat unwell again. Not awful, just not well. But as I said, I do have hope. I really do. Now, on with the blog… 

Just before Christmas, Rohan Clarke had posted the dates of his quarterly Eaglehawk Neck double-header pelagics. I was interested in the February 1-2 trip, hoping for Gould’s and possibly Mottled Petrels. I did get a spot, along with James, Alan Stringer and Robert Shore (Robert later had to cancel). I very much love Eaglehawk Neck and I have done several pelagics from there. They are the essence of “…a perpetual series of occasions for hope.” You never know what might turn up. It was there in January 2018 that the Juan Fernandez Petrel flew into my heart and onto my list. Many thousands of miles from its normal range, somehow it had ended up off Eaglehawk Neck. You never know what you may see out there deep sea birding.

A bird I will never forget, the famous Juan Fernandez Petrel, January 2018 off Eaglehawk Neck
     

Saturday began as a lovely morning. However the winds steadily increased and the seas built accordingly. It got downright chilly and we were getting knocked about a bit. I was wearing my trusty patch and it did its job. I did not get seasick, but I felt like crap (that is how the patches work for me). I can deal with that.
                 

We reached the deep water beyond the shelf and began to berley (chum). There were a lot of birds around. The highlights were a Cook’s Petrel, a truly gorgeous dark morph Soft-plumaged Petrel and yes, a Gould’s. Tick! It was a fast flying bird, but I saw it well. Thank you Rohan for spotting it, and Paul Brooks for bodily pointing me at it when it came in and looped across the stern. Then it flew down the port side of the boat and was gone. No time for photos, just time for a lifer-look. Yes, there were lots of birds around us. We had Wilson’s, Grey-backed and White-faced Storm Petrels dancing together on the water behind the boat. We had lots of Albatrosses, Wandering, Southern and Northern Royal, Black-browed, Campbell’s, Buller’s and of course scores of Shy. It was indeed rough, definitely one of the roughest pelagics I’ve done. The ride back in was “interesting,” but fine. John’s boat, the Paulette is a very stable, safe boat and I have complete confidence in his abilities as captain. The next day, Sunday was rough as well, but not as “lumpy” and with fewer birds. Our hopes for a Mottled did not come to fruition, but I had gotten my Gould’s on Saturday and I was very happy about that.
              

Internet Photo of a Gould's Petrel, as far as I know, no one got a shot of ours, but this is what they look like...      

Buller's Albatross being particularly cooperative for photos. They are gorgeous.

It was wonderful seeing some of my dear friends. These are people I value and feel a connection with, but that I usually only see occasionally on birding trips. I had not seen Paul Brooks since the Juan Fernandez trip. Yes, these are some of the best… my dear friend Karen Dick, and Els, and Janine, and Rich, and Andy, and Nick, and of course Rohan. They are my friends, some closer than others and some that I see more often than others, but all part of that special tribe that ‘gets it.’ Those who understand heading out to sea in sometimes-uncomfortable conditions, but with hearts alive with hope. Keeping in contact with these scattered kindred spirits is the best part of social media. I can at least follow along with them through Facebook, even when I do not see them in person for months or even years at a time.

Back on shore, many of the group went up the hill behind the boat ramp to the food truck. Sadly, our traditional after pelagic meeting spot, a café called, Havin’-a-Bite has gone out of business. It was a wonderful place for visiting and sharing some chips. The food truck has excellent chips and also very good prawns and scallops. I ate my early dinner there (as I do) both days. We sat on picnic tables with a gorgeous view of the rocky shore.
         

Monday morning James, Alan and I had a leisurely drive to the Hobart Airport. The trip home was gratefully uneventful (as one hopes for air travel to be) and James and I collected my old Prius from Long Term Parking about 3:15. By 4:30 I was grabbing a short nap at the house in Lara.    

James and I often have Banana Bread as a snack at airports. This was not the best we've had. It was rather lame to be honest.

On Tuesday, I had a quiet ‘Lifer Day’ in celebration of the Gould’s Petrel and I began writing this blog entry. In the arvo I drank a couple of good non-alcoholic beers and ate too many pistachios. And at 5:30, Lynn and I went to Bistro St. Jean in Geelong for a delicious Lifer dinner. It was the best Barramundi I have ever eaten. It was literally grilled to perfection. It was a fitting treat for my 752nd Australian Life Bird.
         

And a little sweet-treat, my favourite ice cream on a stick

I hope to hang onto some of the positive and optimistic feelings that I was having following the trip. These really are not my default settings, but I am working on it. I will always be working on it. I am in process and I will remain in process as long as I remain.

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love because Love Wins.

Cocos and Christmas Islands ~ Part Five: Christmas Part Two

      

Monday, 9 December began with the culmination of a practical joke on me. That is something that I would normally not be keen on, but it was truly in good fun and I was pleased that these birders felt comfortable enough with me to do it. It began because I had heard that the birding group on Christmas the week before us had dipped on Java Sparrow. This was true. But Richard (and Glen and others) decided to let me think that the Sparrows were going to be very difficult for us to find, if we could find them at all. He told me that there had been a family feeding them in the settlement and that is where the birds were easily seen. But that family had moved away (this part was true as well). So we really might not find the sparrows (this was the joke part). That morning after driving around the neighbourhood a bit building my anticipation, Richard pulled up beside a house with a birdbath in the yard. He got out and spoke with the fellow that lived there. And in a small tree right in front of us were eight or ten beautiful Java Sparrows. He ‘got’ me and that was actually very cool and an enjoyable joke (with a happy ending!).
       

I do not recall the other parts of that morning. I had Java Sparrow lifer high and I was also excited because just after noon, we were going to take a boat ride. We were going sightseeing and snorkelling. It was Richard, Jenny, Joy, Bill Betts and I. This was the regularly scheduled half-day boat trip for Richard’s tours. But my barely containable excitement was because we had heard that Whale Sharks were around. They were being seen regularly. They are the largest fish in the world and had been a fascination for me since I was about ten years of age. That was when I had read (or been read) Kon-Tiki, Thor Heyerdahl’s book about travelling across the pacific on a large balsa raft. As a kid, I would take that book out and stare at the old black and white photo plates, especially those of that massive fish. I no longer have that book and I do not know how it got lost. It should still be amongst my treasured family possessions (the few that are left after all the insane amounts of downsizing I have done). But sadly, Kon-Tiki got away at some point (I just stopped in the midst of writing and ordered a copy online).

We were told by the man driving the boat that if he spotted a Whale Shark, we should instantly hit the water and swim as quickly as we could toward it because the sharks can just sink down and disappear. We were holding our masks and fins. We were all excited. Not more than ten minutes out, he dropped the boat out of gear and shouted, “WHALE SHARK!” He pointed across the port side saying “There! There! Quick! Quick! Swim! Swim! There!” We were all in the water in seconds and swimming as hard as we could. And then there it was.

I can still see that first Whale Shark in my mind as it materialised out of the deep blue gliding slowly through the water in front of us, massive and graceful. These huge fish swim with effortless ease and elegance. It was everything I had hoped for. I swam along with it as it slowly began to sink down into the depths. Time had stopped. I watched it until I could barely distinguish its shape beneath me. I surfaced and swam back to the boat. We were all in a state of amazement. As my dear friend Jenny said, “It was rapturous.” And that is not hyperbole. We hugged. You can see Jenny and Joy swimming in their beige birding clothes. Birders underwater…
       

                           

                                 

We stopped and swam again with a second Whale Shark as well as snorkelling in another spot with some beautiful reef fish. This is all now like a blur in my mind; a wonderful blur of disjointed, joyful memories. However I will never forget the third and last shark. We were on our way back in, and as he had done twice before, the skipper yelled, “WHALE SHARK! It’s there! Swim fast! Swim! There! Quick!” We did and this one remained closer to us. I was for the third time swimming beside, and then over, a Whale Shark. I can remember so clearly gazing down on the back of the magnificent creature that was gliding slowly along beneath me. The shark drifted up closer until it was just under me, closer than I would have swum to it. It had indeed come to me. The pattern on its skin looked like a living, moving Aboriginal painting. Yes, I can see it as I write these words. I remember the water playing along my skin and the sound of my breathing through the snorkel. I remember these things all at once and my heart catches for a second, but I cannot hold onto it. That is why I must write, why I need to write, because I can reread my experiences and hold onto them for a few moments longer. And I have Bill’s photos. That first one below is "going in the pool room." (Aussie film, "The Castle" reference).
       

           

My friend Bill Betts had an underwater camera and took these photos. I am more grateful for these pictures than any photos that have ever been taken of me. Thank you my dear friend. I will have at least one framed. I have never printed and framed a photo of myself (not counting the hundreds of headshots, posters and promotional photos that were put up in venues over the years when I was an entertainer). But this will hang in my study (no, I don't have a pool room) where I can look at it, gaze at it in wonder, and re-realise the magic of those moments with these majestic, benevolent behemoths.

That night we went out spotlighting and after a few stops, Richard found us a Christmas Boobook. This again is an example of Richard keeping track of things on Christmas and Cocos. If a bird is not in one expected location, he is usually able to check a second, or fifth, or however many locations that he has found or found out about. It is his knowledge of his “patches” that is so key to his success. It is what he does.
     

The next days were birding and sightseeing whilst navigating around the crabs (see the photo of the road closed sign). The Christmas Island Red Crab Migration is world famous and quite a sight to see. It’s a lot of crabs and a lot of closed roads, which can limit accessibility to parts of the island. Fortunately it really did not affect our plans much if at all and it was fascinating to see this incredible natural phenomenon taking place.
       

Here are some photos are of various views around the island as well as the old railway, including a map of the original area showing the 5 brothel houses. Priorities.

                               

And I will leave you with two of my favourite photos from the trip of two of my favourite people, Glen and Jenny. And I will throw in one last photo of our intrepid leader grabbing just a moments' rest after lunch one day.

            

I could have written a book about the two weeks on what I have called: Richard Baxter's Tour of Abundant Birding Bliss. There is so much I have left out. Maybe I will do an additional blog entry. Maybe not. I will tell you this. I'm going back.

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it's real. I love because love is all there is.