Cocos and Christmas Islands Part Two ~ Cocos Part One

The sand beneath my feet on Cocos felt a little different. The grass beneath my feet felt a little different. The sun shone down a little different. The vibe there was unique, but yet it felt familiar. My heart was transported back in time to Sanibel Island, Florida 1960, when a young boy felt the massive joy of loving a “place” and feeling it love him back.

    

I melded with Cocos. I embraced it and it embraced me back. I begin writing hoping to capture the vibe of Cocos in words, but I realised that Cocos may be more of a melody than a lyric… a beautiful, soothing, joyful, mellifluous melody. I can close my eyes and "hear" it. I love it and I will return. I did a FB post early from Cocos and did not mention lifer numbers and  someone commented “What about the birds?” And I told Richard that I was learning that the feeling, the experience itself was more the thing on Cocos. And he or I said, “The vibe becomes more than the number.” Anyway, it was something like that, and that thought, that feeling, is golden. The vibe is more than the number... that is my birding.

I was there with people who are truly Australian birding legends. I was in the Cocos Islands with Richard Baxter (our leader), Jenny Spry, Biggles, Tania Ireton, Joy Tansey and one of my best friends and legend, Glen Pacey. This is as good as birding gets. I have referred to Jenny Spry as my “Yoda” because the force is so strong in her and I benefit from just being in her zen-like presence. I could go on and on about these people, but then the tale goes off-track. I will say that I loved spending time and birding with them.

We went out that first late afternoon. We piled into the four cars. It worked out to four people per car mostly, but folks could do what they wanted. Of course they mostly wanted to bird, but not always all together. Quickly Green Junglefowl and White-breasted Waterhen were added to my life list. They are all over the place. I next added a beautiful Javan Pond Heron on the mudflats and photographed it flying in front of the palm trees. It has been visiting there regularly for about three years now. 

Ms Green Junglefowl and as is often the case with really common birds, I did not get around to photographing a male. They are stunning "chickens" and I should have. I have also realised I never took a proper photo of a White-breasted Waterhen other than this quick-snap below in the flowers.

On the Cocos Islands almost all bird life is a visiting vagrant. There are no passerines on the island, not a one. So if you see a bird in a tree (that is not a White-breasted Waterhen. They sometimes perch in trees) it is a rarity, or a mega as they are called. It is exciting that any bird you see is a potential mega rarity. On that first day I added three birds to my life list. I went to bed just past nine and slept the sleep of elation and exhaustion that comes with this experience. They are a wonderful combination… elation and exhaustion equals peace and contentment.

We would meet in the mornings between 5:30 and 6:00 depending upon what the group was doing. The first morning at Cocos was the canoe trip a few kilometres over to South Island to see the Saunders’s Terns. These rare terns nest on South Island and they are pronounced, “Saunders-ez” as the possessive “s” is pronounced separate from Saunders. 

     

The canoes have little outboard motors. Bill, a new friend to be, shared a canoe with me. I had the first go at driving it. I grew up around boats and am very comfortable driving an outboard motor. The issue was that it was a time of very low tides (even at high tide) and the motors kept hitting the bottom. Everyone’s did, and occasionally they shut off, but restarted with a pull (or three) of the cord. Ours eventually did not. It restarted a few times and then gave up for good. The canoe rental guy (I will add his name later. He comes into the tale further on as well) came over and tried to start it. He could not restart it either. So we were towed by his canoe the final kilometre or so to the island. There, after a short hike through the palms and bush, we came out onto an expanse of flats where the Sanders’s Terns were. We saw maybe a dozen and hung around a bit before walking back to the canoes where we had some fresh (opened before our very eyes) coconut and other nibbles, then we rode the canoes back. He said that he thought he had fixed our motor. He thought.

We started back across. It was Bill’s turn to drive. One birder drives over and the other one drives back so everyone has a turn. I was sitting in the bow when suddenly water soaked me from my left (port) side. Bill Betts (now a dear friend, more about him later) was in the bow of Richard’s canoe and had thrown a bucket full of water and nailed me good! (Buckets are kept in the boats for bailing purposes). We all use dry-bags so all of my stuff stayed dry and safe. I, on the other hand, was soaked. There was more water throwing between boats and all in good fun of course. It actually felt good. But our motor once again, gave up the ghost and again we had to be towed the last kilometre or so to the beach.

On the way back to the accommodations we made a stop where Richard knew to look for a Western Reef Heron (split from the Eastern Reef Egret, now the Pacific Reef Heron a while ago). And I beheld this beautiful bird. It was white and grey and gorgeous. It was the second life bird for my first full day on Cocos.

     

Richard leads a two-week tour the end of November and then stays around for a week until the next tour arrives. He always keeps up with what is where, bird-wise. This is what he does. He knows his birds and his islands. He does it well.

I tend to eat earlier than most because of my acid reflux and I usually skipped the restaurant or pub meals, but after dinnertime we’d all meet back in the great room of the “house” at the motel. It is where I was staying with Glen, Richard, Biggles and Tania. It has four bedrooms, a kitchen and a nice bath. We would do the bird-count for the day. Then Richard would give us his instructions for the next morning, which meant to meet on the veranda at 5:30 or 6:00 depending upon who was going where.
   

The second morning most of us went to where Richard had seen an Asian Brown Flycatcher earlier. We gave it a good go, but it was not around. So Richard took us down to the runway where we saw a Chinese Pond Heron (tick). Then we headed back to the motel for lunch.
     

My new friend Bill from the boat and my friend Bill Betts and I decided to drive back and have another look for the Flycatcher. We did not see it, but both Bills heard a bird call distinctly. The Bills became referred to by the group as B1 and B2 with Bill Betts being B2. We could not get eyes on this bird and returned to tell the others. Soon the group was out surrounding that area of trees. I think B2 heard it again. Then he saw a bird and he got a quick photo or two. It looked to Richard like a Phylloscopus type warbler (which could be one of several). Then I played the call of the Arctic Warbler (Phylloscopus borealis) and B2 said, “That’s the bird! What is that?” B1, who had also heard it earlier confirmed that was the call he had heard as well. And immediately the Warbler came flying right at us because that is what it was, an Arctic Warbler... heard, seen and photographed.

   

 And later in the day, on the back side of the runway I finally saw an Oriental Cuckoo. It had been sort of a bogey bird for me; being a mainland bird that I had not been able to catch up with. I saw it well, but only in flight. This is a photo from the back of Jenny’s camera. A beautiful bird it is too.
 

The next day we took the ferry to Home Island. It is called a ferry, but you leave your vehicles on West Island (where we had our accommodations at the Cocos Beach Motel) and ride in air-conditioned comfort across the ten or so kilometres of beautiful blue water. The Cocos Islands are the ring of a huge, extinct volcano, so we were crossing its crater.

Home island is populated by about 500 Malay people who practice Sunni Islam. They are the friendliest, sweetest people you could want to meet. Their smiles are genuine and their greetings are warm. Everyone waves and everyone says hello and smiles. The humanity is wondrous and the island is gorgeous. There are no motor vehicles and we walked wherever we went. Some of the locals do have golf carts.

The famous Oceana House mansion was closed. It is now for sale. Usually a few of the group would have over-nighted there, but it could not be arranged this year. Later in the week I did walk around and peek in the windows and took photos. It is magnificent. The timber panelled walls are gorgeous. The antique furnishings are beautiful. The mansion was built in 1887 and seems to float outside of time. I walked around its white brick parameter (they were brought from Scotland) with Jenny Spry just marvelling at its splendour. She has stayed there in the past. We were both mostly quiet just soaking in the feeling of the house. It radiates a kind of reverence. I will never forget it. Here are a lot of photos from the house and around the grounds.

 

We were there to bird though! And bird we did. Thanks to Biggles, I beheld the Blue and White Flycatcher. He had been on the islands ahead of us and had found the bird and he refound it for us. My backlit photos do not do it justice, but I was thrilled to get them.

We had lunch on the island, birded some more and a nice afternoon ride back on the ferry. Then we chased up an Asian Koel that was hanging out at the “farm” (I believe it is called). It proved not to be very cooperative. I saw it on this palm frond, but missed the photo. This back of camera pic is from my friend Bill Betts (B2). His photographic abilities came into play often during the trip. I was having difficulties with my camera until I figured out that the thicker eyepiece from the new rain sleeve was inhibiting my ability to see what I was trying to photograph. Later in the week, I finally sorted that was the problem and switched back to the original eyepiece. I was still not a hotshot with the camera, but I could at least manage to get more photos.

And that will do for now. I have realised that I need to break these into more parts, since I cannot begin to do justice to the week on the Cocos Islands in only one blog entry. I will stop here and I will continue with Cocos Islands Part Two soon. I absolutely adore that place.

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love.