Rufous Scrub-bird and Tahiti Petrel Joy

    

It had been a while since I had gotten into Troopi and gone off by myself, but I had a pelagic to do in New South Wales. I left last Tuesday arvo (19 March) and drove up to Glenrowan, VIC. I love that little caravan park and I always see Turquoise Parrots there. And I did again. I reckon I saw at least 25 in the front paddock. I took some photos.

The next morning as I was coffeeing, I heard the unmistakable calls of Gang Gang Cockatoos and sure enough there were two in a tree beside Troopi. I got the camera out yet again, unusual for me. They are very cool birds.

After enjoying the cockatoos, I headed north with an unmemorable stop-over for the night in Bargo. The next afternoon I rolled into South West Rocks, NSW and checked into my nice little studio cabin (I prefer a cabin or room before going on a pelagic). About 9:30pm, I applied my Scopolamine patch behind my ear and soon after went to sleep.

The next morning I awoke at 4:30am feeling crap as I do when I wear the patch, BUT I do not get seasick. It is worth it. I was at the boat by 6:30 and we were underway by 7am. Liam Murphy had organised this pelagic. I had first met him at “his” Aleutian Terns in December of 2017 when those terns were very new. I had dashed straight up there. As it turned out they remained for months. I could have walked up from Victoria and not dipped.

The wind was light and we chugged out to the deep waters beyond the shelf and by 9:30 we began to drift and berley. We had Providence Petrels and a few other of the usual suspects. I was mostly watching for a certain white bellied beauty and it soon appeared. Tahiti Petrel! Distant at first but then it hung around for an hour or more and everyone got cracking views. It is a stunning and easily recognised pelagic bird. I took some photos. Tick!

             
The birding slacked off and we headed in a little early. I was knackered. I was more tired than I thought I should be. I will readily admit that I have gotten into real crap shape. Migraines, battling the twins (depression and anxiety), using food for comfort and being way too sedentary has taken its toll. I was tired as. I went back to my cabin, showered and had a quiet evening. I would be meeting Liam in Beechwood at 7am and I needed to leave at 5:30am to be sure I was on time. I was up by 3:30am. I was excited. I was going after the Rufous Scrub-bird with someone in their home patch.

A couple of times a year, Liam goes into the rain forest of Werrikimbe National Park (about two hours inland from where he lives in Port Macquarie) and has a look for Rufous Scrub-birds. He had given Robert and me the gen on where to look when we went there in October of 2017. We heard them very well and in a few spots, but did not see them. That is usual for these exceptionally elusive, skulking birds. Liam has only seen them three times out of perhaps a dozen attempts. 

We rumbled up the rough logging track through the majestic towering trees of the rainforest eventually arriving at the beautiful Brushy Mountain Campground. Robert and I had stayed the night there on our 2017 visit. It truly is lovely. I was prepared to stay over if we did not have success that day, although Liam needed to return to Port Macquarie. We parked behind the shelter and hiked on up the Loop Walk.
   

The path slopes up gently, but in my state of utter non-fitness I was out of breath in minutes. About six-hundred metres in, Liam heard the bird. I heard it too. It was imitating a very loud version of an Eastern Yellow Robin. The bird then did a few more odd calls. Then it settled in on its own call. It was not far from us, but not exactly close either. Liam suggested we just stand there where we had a bit of a view in through the tangles of brush and trees. There were a few logs and deadwood lying amongst the various flora that covers the rainforest floor. There were also leeches. I flicked a large one off my calf and applied a bit of Liam’s bug spray. We stood listening and watching. It sounded further off. Then a few minutes later it sounded closer again. We decided to move in just a little. We only went four or five metres in, but it gave us a bit more elevated view of the area from which we reckoned the bird was calling. And we stood there quietly listening and peering intensely into the underbrush. After maybe ten more minutes of this Liam whispered, “On the log at the base of the tree.”

In that area there were numerous ‘logs at the base of trees,’ but we were looking in the same spot and before Liam had finished half of that sentence I had the Rufous Scrub-bird in focus in my bins. JOY. Amazing, heart-filling Joy! The bird looked left, then turned as if to jump off the small log, but stopped, turned to the right and stood for a second and then looked again and disappeared off the log into the brush. We had had approximately four full glorious seconds (one-thousand, two-thousand, three-thousand, four-thousand) viewing the bird. This was the best look Liam had ever gotten. We high-fived, fist-bumped and then hugged. Glory. It will remain as one of my all-time top birding moments. I had beheld the Rufous Scrub-bird (yes, there will be ink).

My friend and brilliant photographer David Stowe has successfully photographed the bird. My buddy Robert Shore got a good recording shot of it as well. I am borrowing David's for this blog entry. 

As we stepped back down on the path, Liam said something I have often said after getting a single good view of a target bird. He said, “That bird owes me nothing more.” Indeed. And we just left it be. We walked joyously back to the campground and sat around the shelter. I even picked up a lifer mammal in a cute and busy little Brown Antechinus. 

     

Eventually we left and drove back down to Beechwood and the café there. After a Lifer Selfie and more rejoicing, Liam went home and I drove on to stay the night in a motel in Bulahdelah, NSW. It was called the Mount View Motel. I highly recommend it. It was inexpensive, clean and had large Hieronymus Bosch pictures on the wall! My room had The Garden of Earthly Delights. I have always found Bosch’s work wonderfully weird and brilliant. I slept well.
     

The next day I stayed in Gundagai before driving on to Lara on Monday. I had been gone only seven days and I had two lifers (and a mammal). Joy.

The route there and back again

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love, although I often do not understand this world.

Thoughts on Social Media and Me

For those who are employed, and or those with families and kids at home, life can feel quite full. Their diaries are exploding with busy schedules. They often can’t do things because there is no time left after doing all the other things they have to do.

Alone is not my preferred way

For those who are not employed and without an at-home family, there is time. There can be a lot of time, alone time. And if one is an ADHD extrovert whose brain works best when sharing experiences (quite possibly only works when sharing) life can at times feel quite empty. The connections on social media help to fill that emptiness. It can be a life saving feeling of belonging and connection. It can be that place to share what makes life real for us.

Quite often I think of my departed (but ever with me) friend, Barb. She was basically housebound in Ohio for a long while, but her close FB friendships were genuine and life sustaining. As I said, she remains with me in memory and heart, and yet I knew her 99% through Facebook. I can have real closeness through social media. Not everyone can, or is willing to. It does not mean I am better or worse for that. It is just who I am. I need to share. I am not one of those lucky people who is just perfectly happy with their own company. If I see something cool, the first thing I want to do is to show it to someone else. And if I have no one to share it with, then social media will suffice to a degree.

Yesterday morning I mentioned that some friends have implied that I post overly much on Facebook. I needed to expand on that and wrote this blog entry. First of all, please understand that no one has ever told me not to post! It is more that some have said, "Oh I didn't know that" about something big I had posted days ago that was important to me. And then made the comment, "Oh, you just post so much stuff. I can’t follow it." That is what I was talking about. I don’t post so much stuff. I make a conscious choice to post only what is important to me to share with my friends. It helps me to write it and put it out there. If I did not have a way to put it out there, I would not write. Such is my brain. When I wrote songs, I wrote them to sing for people. Even though I wrote the type of songs that I would like to hear myself, they were written to share with others. I never sit around and sing and play my music alone. Never in life.

Used correctly, this social media is a wonderful tool with which to keep in touch. You can go to my Timeline (immediately reloading it so you see it, and not an algorithm version) and by scrolling down you will know what, and how, I have been doing. We can follow along with each other's lives from across the country or different sides of the globe and that can be so very cool. Sharing.

The connections on here are important to me. I do rely on y’all. On social media I am as honest and genuine (a word that means a lot to me) as I can be without including too much information about others. This is me that you read. It helps me to be able to share this life that is hurtling along at a pace that I find truly unbelievable. Writing helps me to slow it down and look at, and maybe even understand it a bit more.

I do indeed attempt to post within a positive framework. I mention my migraines, depression and anxiety since they are a part of my life, I would not be genuine if I didn't. And I relegate almost all political type posts to the R. Bruce performer page. Of course I despise the current horror in my country of origin and mention it there.

To accompany this babble, I decided to post photos of my MacBook (bless its old heart, I may have to buy a new one before too long... crowd funding maybe hahaha). These are pictures of that laptop from across Australia (and one in the US). That's the machine through which I was able to keep in touch with so many of you on this social media. I am indeed grateful to you for being there and to the technology that makes it possible.

On the veranda of Kingfisher Park Birdwatcher's Lodge, Julatten, FNQ September 2015 I dearly love that place and those people.

Chili Beach, Iron Range, Cape York, FNQ October 2015

House sitting in Torquay, VIC January 2016

Kangaroo Island, SA January 2016

Drummond Cove, Buller, Western Australia, March 2016

In the little guest cottage at my Yabok's in Darwin River, NT, May 2016

At a drawing desk I no longer have on the wonderful sunroom/porch overlooking the water in Manns Harbor, NC September 2016. That is where I really began writing my book, The Year.

In the far too tiny house in Lara, VIC April 2017

At my campsite, O'Reilly's, Lamington National Park, QLD, November 2017           

The porch of the far too tiny house, March 2018

In the back of Troopi in Waikerie, SA April 2018  

Lyndhurst Hotel, Lyndhurst, SA, May 2018 I loved that place

In my study January 2019

As I have said probably too many times, not everyone gets it. They don’t have to. Some people prefer to be closed books and that is absolutely okay for them. Just do not ever expect me to be. I will be sharing.

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love because it’s why we are all here in the first place.

Eaglehawk Neck Tasmania Pelagic January 2019

Robert Shore and I had spots on Rohan Clarke’s January pelagic weekend in Eaglehawk Neck, Tasmania. My old pal and I boarded the Spirit of Tasmania ferry on Thursday evening for the overnight voyage to the Land Down Under the Land Down Under. We would be heading straight down to Eaglehawk Neck to our room at the Lufra Hotel for the next few nights. Staying at the hotel, we would not need Troopi’s camping abilities so we took my Prius. The fuel savings are pretty amazing.

Once again I was blessed with good weather for a crossing. There is something deeply wonderful about nodding off knowing you are crossing the Bass Strait with the roll of the sea to rock you to sleep.

We arrived in Devonport early. The ferry was doing a quick turn around to return to Melbourne and vehicles were to begin disembarking at 5:30am. For various reasons, I had been awake since 2am. I was ridiculously tired. We had a lovely ride south to Eaglehawk Neck and were able to check-in early to our room. I did get a nap and that helped. The next morning we met our friends and other birders at the boat and chugged out to our first day of birding.
       

Truth be told (and I would not take the time to write anything but the truth as I know it), I am not that keen on pelagic birding. I talked about it in the book. There are several reasons. One, it can be uncomfortable. Two, it can take hours of uncomfortable-ness before you really begin birding. Three, as I have aged, I need to wear a patch to insure against seasickness and those patches themselves make me feel crap, (but not seasick!). Four, my pelagic bird identification skills are still woefully lacking. I mainly try to position myself near an expert (there are usually several) and when they call a bird and point to it, I am usually able to look at “that” bird, and that will do for me. I will add that regardless of the above, I am always awed by the massive majestic grace of a Wandering Albatross, or the delicate dance of lovely little Storm-Petrels as they seemingly walk on water by the boat, or the sweet Prions darting to and fro above the waves. Yes, there are certainly some beautiful birds out there, but they are often a long way out there.

When Rohan called the first Common Diving Petrel I was close nearby and was instantly looking at the distant small sea bird to which he was pointing. I saw it, but certainly not well. A half an hour or so later I was much relieved when Rohan called it again and this bird flew right by the boat in clear view. Robert even got a few quick ‘recording’ shots. My camera was in the cabin most of the weekend. My sense of balance is not what it used to be and jostling for photo position would have been difficult. I just want to be sure I see with my eyes the bird that has been identified as the bird. I do love to have some sort of photos if possible and I am grateful for Robert’s images for this blog entry. Here are three of the Diving Petrel.

The Common Diving Petrel had been my pelagic “bogie bird.” I had repeatedly not seen it and I had certainly tried. The birds are often seen on the way out and on the way back in, so I would continue scanning the sea as most everyone else hunkered in for the ride. Yes indeed, I was extremely happy to get good looks at this small “Button-quail of the Sea” (as I had come to call it).

My second lifer of the weekend was Cook’s Petrel. It was seen twice, giving us good views as it flew along the slick and then down the side of the boat. Sweet looks, no photo.

The second day seemed a bit less rough in the beginning and I brought my camera out for some of it. I took a few photos, but was focused on seeing the Buller’s Shearwater and did not get much of a photograph. It was the third and final lifer for my weekend. The wind blew up a bit on the way in and I was glad not to be trying to find a Diving Petrel as we bumped our way back to port. The first two photos are Robert's shots of the Shearwater. Then a few of my photos.

Believe it or not, that is a Buller's Shearwater. My shot.

Lifer Pie in the form of Ice Cream (I do Lifer Days now and am having one as I write this).

We stayed on another day at the Lufra Hotel in our comfortable “fisherman’s room,” as they refer to the first floor rooms out the back. We went out that evening in hopes of finding a Morepork for Robert. However, smoke from the small bush fire earlier in the day had settled over the area and it was unpleasant. I did photograph a pair of Tawny Frogmouths before we called it a night. 

The trip back was gratefully once again on mostly calm seas and we arrived safe and sound back in Victoria. Here are a few photos from the ferry.

Sunset over Tassie

Sunrise over Melbourne,Victoria

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love because that is why we are here.