Top Birds & Everyfing

Adelaide’s Sore Thumb Conservation Cove.

 

Mutton Cove Conservation Park. Site of historic ship wrecks, birds and industrial development. Severely degraded by since European Settlement is now in need of extensive restoration.

When I’m back home in Adelaide I don’t get much time to go bird watching. There is alway more jobs lined up than you can shake a big stick at. So, when a small window appears and I can escape for a few hours I head north up the beach from my home, past historic Port Adelaide and up the Le Fevre Peninsular to Mutton Park Conservation Reserve. Its a great place to go bird watching... close to the centre of Adelaide, not too big, no crowds, not even anybody... a reasonable number of birds... what more could you want? Well when it comes to Mutton Cove, lots...

 

A Rock Parrot sitting on mangroves at Mutton Cove.

The Le Fevre Peninsular stretches north from Port Adelaide, bounded on the west by the Gulf St Vincent and to the north and east by the Port River. It’s a low lying finger of land much used for large scale industrial purposes, a process that grows even bigger today with the expansion of port facilities at Outer Harbour and the massive development of the Techport Australia project to build air warfare destroyers and potentially new submarines. All of this is fine, if Australia wants to develop more industry, it has to put it somewhere.

 

Mutton Cove has the last remaining samphire on the Le Fevre Peninsular. Brown Songlark sighted here in January 2012 was the first of this species seen here over my visits of the last few years.

Tucked away in one small out of the way corner of the peninsular is Mutton Cove, the last remaining samphire flats and mangrove woodland on the peninsular. It’s a small piece of natural estuarine landscape, albeit severely degraded since european settlement, in an otherwise industrial landscape. It probably owes it’s existence more to being abandoned as useless rather than because of the farsightedness of some sagacious person. Over the years it’s been a dumping ground for rubbish, old cars, waste and all manner of degradation. Fortunately it was rescued before it was totally reclaimed and is now a conservation reserve. However today, it still appears to be a wasteland despite the efforts of community groups and volunteers who have laboured long and hard to remove rubbish, plant shrubs and improve facilities.

 

Contaminated area suffering from past unregulated dumping and reduced tidal flows and tide heights with which to flush the Cove properly.

The Cove was once part of the Port River tidal inlet and as such its estuarine habitat was subject to the natural tides of the river. Some time ago the whole area was largely isolated from the main tidal flow by the construction of a sea wall. Since then a limited flow of sea water into the Cove occurs through some inadequate piping that allows sea water to flow in during flood tides and drain out on the ebb.

 

The sea wall which separates the Port River and the Cove. The pipes just visible under water only allow a portion of the incoming tide to flow in restricting tidal range and flushing. This wall needs to be breached with a bridge that allows full tidal flow.

As you would expect, the sea level in the Port River rises for several hours during the flood tide, covering the intertidal zone until it reaches its high tide. However within Mutton Cove, because the pipes restrict the flow, by the time the river tide is at its peak the Cove level is still much lower, by a half metre or more. When the river tide falls, initially the tide continues to flow in for a short time until the the river level and the Cove level are the same and then outflow begins, again lagging behind the river tide.

 

Waders frequent the Cover. These Red-necked Stint are resting on the river side of the sea wall.

There are two major effects of the restricted flow into the Cove. First the intertidal zone has less depth because the full extent of the tidal change is never achieved and secondly there isn’t sufficient flow in and out to flush the Cove properly. This means that the distribution zones of the intertidal plants species is different to the natural surrounding inter-tidal area and the reduced flow causes algal blooms lie in decomposing beds alongside the waterways, altered salinity and high contaminant levels.

 

Sharp-tailed Sandpiper foraging inside the Cove.

To add to this the whole reserve is unsightly; weeds abound, piles of rubble from past dumping still are much evident; the pathways, fences are in poor repair and scattered blocks of concrete, tyres and other rubbish are scattered about. Oozing contaminants seep into the samphire from the industrial waste that was dumped there in the past. Many of the plants that volunteers laboriously planted to improve the Cove have died through lack of care. All in all, it’s sad to say is what you often expect to see at an out of sight - out of mind nature reserve.

 

Beside Mutton Cove new buildings as part of the $10 Billion Techport Naval Hub are extensively landscaped and maintained.

All around the Cove there is evidence of the ten billion dollars that is being spent on the Techport development which has been labelled as Australia’s premier naval industry hub. Among all the huge development of buildings and shipping facilities the developers have done extensive landscaping and planting of native flora. It’s a different world on the other side of the fence in the Cove which by comparison languishes as an unwanted and unsightly backwater. It’s like a sore thumb!

 

The Australian Submarine Corporation and the new airwarfare destroyers are neighbours. Even though Mutton Cove is surrounded by industrial development it's value as a nature reserve should not be discounted. Many plant and bird species exist within the reserve.

According to the spin, the opening of the Techport was attended by the US Ambassador and the Deputy Secretary of Defence and delegations from Spain, India, Germany and Israel have already visited Techport... I hope they kept the visitors away from seeing Mutton Cove.

 

Australian Crake tears across the mud into the shelter of the shipwrecks. New species for me at the Cove.

Some of those ten billion dollars needs to be spent on restoring Mutton Cove to its natural state and improving the facilities to confirm with locals and visitors alike that we here in Adelaide care as much for our natural environment as we do for industrial development.

So, what more could you want for Mutton Cove? For starters the sea wall needs to be breached so that the natural tidal range can be re-established. The majority of the sea wall should remain because it provides a good walkway, but it needs a buttressed bridge under which the tide can flow unimpeded. The facilities in the Cove need to be brought up and maintained to the same standard as the Techport infrastructure surrounding the park with proper pathways, fences, hides for viewing bird foraging areas and rest facilities for visitors.

The less than salubrious entrance to Mutton Cove. Hardly condusive to being a neighbour of a centre of excelence.

It is well past the time in which industrial and government stakeholders of Techport need to take the leadership and responsibility for what is an important conservation reserve in their back yard. After all this should be a premier nature reserve reflecting its surroundings, not an embarrasment!

For those who would like more information on Mutton Cove an “ Environmental Management Plan - Mutton Cove, South Australia, produced by Faith Cook and Peri Coleman - 17 December 2003 is available on the following link.

http://www.deltaenvironmental.com.au/archives/Mutton_Cove_web.pdf

Anyway, anyway, anyway...back to those jobs... well they say you’ll never empty your in-tray, the to-do list just gets bugger (freudian slip)... so my goal when they ultimately cart me away in a box to the knackers yard... the in-tray and the to-do list will still be overloaded but my bird list will hopefully be looking better than today... well that’s the plan. Dreams are free!

And a final thought... a name change would be good. Mutton is not exactly an inspiring name although it's appropriate in its current state. Given its aboriginal heritage I'm sure a more appropriate name could be found.

 

 

The Old Mate and the Moggy

 The Old Mate was at the wheel of his truck on the way home from his local pub late on Christmas Eve. Now the pub was in the middle of the the Outback about a days ride on a good horse west of nowhere, not that the Old Mate ever had a good horse. The days when the Old Mate rode home from the pub on his horse are now long gone. These days the Old Mate has a truck of sorts, which like his horse, more or less know’s its way home which is fortunate because the Old Mate is a bit vague and the more Christmas cheer he’s had the more likely it is he’ll get bushed and the sun will rise on another Christmas Day with him slumbering under a Coolibah tree nursing a splitting hangover and with flies crawling about in his mouth doing nothing in particular.

 

The Cooper Creek in outback south west Queensland... having a channel flood.

Anyway, anyway anyway, back to the Old Mate driving home... the Old Mate sees a black cat in the middle of the road blinded by his truck’s headlights. Now the Old Mate’s reactions aren’t that flash when he sober... so bang... he hits the cat. Because the Old Mate hates cats... and only because of the environmental carnage they do to the endemic wildlife of the outback... he gets out to with his shotgun to make sure the cat is dead.

 

Square-tailed Kite over the Hay Plains.

Sure enough the cat is as stone dead as a flattened rat; an ex-cat, deceased, departed this world, an un-cat; so he pumps a couple of shotguns shells into it just in case.

 

Eastern Yellow Robin, Illawarra Escarpment.

The Old Mate looks around and sees in the distance the lights of an isolated farmhouse. Now although he hates cats the Old Mate’s not completely devoid of feelings and seeing it’s Christmas and the Christmas cheer he had at the pub hasn’t yet turned into a hangover he thought he might go over to the farmer’s place and let them know about the sad demise of the cat just incase the ex-cat is their cat... it being Christmas and all that... and they may have some whiskey with which to commiserate the whole hullabaloo. 

Anyway, the farmer’s wife came to the door and the Old Mate said, “Sorry about this ma’am but I just drove over your cat in my truck and killed him. “Not so fast”, says the farmer’s wife, “it may not have been our cat. Can you describe him?”

 So the Old Mate does his dead cat impression by laying down in the dust sprawled out with his arms and legs at funny angles and his tongue hanging out... 

 “No, you bloody halfwit”, says the farmers wife, “what did he look like before you hit him?”

 At that, the Old Mate got up, covered his eyes with his arms crossed and screamed “Aggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!”

 

Mick Wilson - Paramedic

 I was writing my annual Christmas post for my blog when the news of the accident that has irretrievably impacted my friends and colleagues who I have worked with so much over the last few years in New South Wales made me want to express my thoughts especially as I couldn't be with them. So I dedicate this blog to Mick Wilson and all of us who have worked with him.

Christmas means different things to different people, and it seems these days most of the relevance of the day has little to do with its actual meaning. For Christians it means the birth of Jesus and is of course the real celebration of Christmas.

 

Mick Wilson (Photo - ASNSW website)

So while Christmas Day for us in Adelaide began in a spirit of optimism and gratitude it became a day of reflection and sadness as we learnt of an accident involving a colleague; Paramedic Mick Wilson. He had died the previous evening at Carrington Falls south of Wollongong serving the community that was his life’s work. The news of his death was a shocking loss but what especially played on our minds was how his family must be suffering having been expecting him home that evening to celebrate the start of Christmas but instead receiving such tragic news. Christmas will be forever altered for his family and those that knew him.

The kinship that exists within a emergency medical crews (EMS) is more than just a working relationship. It’s a synergy based on the special individual qualities of each member of the team, mutual respect and the combined results of their endeavours. For helicopter EMS crews, the links that bind them are often forged in demanding and unpredictable situations that build special bonds among the flying and medical crews. Mick was a person that brought a unique strength to every crew he flew with.

NSW Ambulance helicopters at Bankstown and some of the crew that support the operation.

Men die doing their work but that knowledge has never stopped the good from doing what they believe in. George S. Patton, who was commander of the US Third Army during World War II said;

    It is foolish and wrong to mourn the man who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.”

Belief in God brings meaning to life and and our time on earth no matter how long or short. It’s not God’s role to prevent tragedy but to bring salvation to those who put their faith in Him. I’m sure Mick is now in God’s presence which is eternal life. And nor is Mick’s life over in those left behind, nor will his memory fade. I’d had the good fortune to work with Mick on a number of flights over the last few years from Bankstown and Wollongong. I have no doubt that whenever we take-off he will be a presence in the minds of each and every one of us particularly when we fly over the rugged and precipitous gorges and escarpments of the the NSW hinterland.  Although I’m away from NSW mostly at the moment this tragedy is often in my thoughts, both for his family and for all the EMS crews that will be for much time to come suffering the loss of respected colleague. In my thoughts I can see him clearly in my mind and recall his voice. I’d like to think of him as a friend of mine.

 

  Belmore Falls in the escarpments of the Shoalhaven River area. The escaprpment country of NSW will forever bring challenges to EMS crews as well as invoke memories of Mick Wilson. 

This Christmas has brought a special sadness to us, it also brought a gratitude that we had known and worked alongside Mick Wilson. But also being the time of the year that by celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ reminds us that we are all able to receive redemption as well as the knowledge in the everlasting grace of God.

A typical scene in the cabin of an AW 139 helicopter of the crew about to conduct a winch rescue at an inaccessible site in NSW.

Massed Coots at Never Never Land

An idealic scene in Western Victoria... trees, dry grass and a small waterhole.

Never Never land is featured in my childhood memories of J. M Barrie’s works as the dwelling place of Peter Pan, Tinker Bell and the Lost Boys... and a half magical bird called the Neverbird... which I don’t as yet have a “tick” in my Moleskin.

It’s also the name of a remote area of the Outback in Barcroft Boake’s poem “Where the Dead Men Lie”.

The Never Never... the outback north of Meekatharra. Mt Augustus is on the horizon. It is the world's biggest rock... two and a half times bigger than Uluru.

Out on the wastes of the Never Never -
That's where the dead men lie!
There where the heat-waves dance forever -
That's where the dead men lie!

Somewhat morbid but moving on...

Never Never also features in “We of the Never Never” which is an autobiographical novel by Jeannie Gunn about the author’s experiences at Elsey Station in the Northern Territory near Mataranka... a little out of the area in question...

Henry Lawson, who has to be Australia’s best poet... wrote about never-never in his poem “The Never-Never Land”

It lies beyond the farming belt,
Wide wastes of scrub and plain,
A blazing desert in the drought,
A lake-land after rain;
To the skyline sweeps the waving grass,
Or whirls the scorching sand-
A phantom land, a mystic realm!
The Never-Never Land.

The flooding rains experienced in Western Victoria in January 2011 at the end of a decade long drought I suspect filled what would have been a very dry and fairly insignificant lakebed where Never Never Road joins the Western Highway at Gerang Gerung west of Horsham in the Wimmera. While Western Victoria is not quite “beyond the farming belt” during the drought it would’ve been thought so by an overflying Neverbird.

Australasian Grebe... always seems to turn up whenever a few drops of rain get together to form a waterhole of some sort.

Driving past there during the last few days (December 2011) this small lake still has water in it albeit getting lower. The drying is evidenced by the hard mud edges to what is now a pond of only about 200 metres long and around 50 metres wide. What made me pull up in a hurry was the honking number of birds concentrated on this pokey little waterhole considering it was such a relatively wee, half pint, teeny-weeny area with little or no reed beds or other apparently supporting habitat.

I counted 270 Eurasian Coot, 170 Grey Teal, 22 Hardhead, 18 Australasian Grebe and 7 Black-winged Stilt... which is oodles of Coots.

The same waterhole... under the magnifying glass is massed with Coots, Grey Teal, Hardhead, Grebes and Black-winged Stilt.

One of the pleasures of observing nature are the multitudes of apparent enigmas in the surprising behaviours and distribution of wildlife. I can only assume that what looked like a fairly ordinary ephemeral waterhole was brimming with prey... and for me... my usual state of discombobulation!

 

December Birds In “Red Dog” Country.

 

The Miaree Pool west of Karratha. A hundred or so Plumed Whistling Ducks rest of the banks.

The last time I was in the Pilbara was this July, 2011 when "Red Dog" had its premier in Karratha. Because this was a short visit I just kept to my usual haunts... the coastal strip at Nickol Bay east of the township of Karratha and the Miaree Pool on the Maitland River west of Karratha. No doubt the Red Dog had been there looking for his mate...

 

A mixed bunch of waders arriving at their high tide resting site at Nickol Bay, Karratha.

December is generally not regarded as the most pleasant time to visit the Pilbara, especially if you are hotness adverse or bush fly adverse, but so far this year it has been surprisingly cool and according to the Old Mate only a half a million bush flies to the acre.

 

A Pheasant Coucal foraging among esturine mangroves.

For bird watchers this year has been a great time to be along the northern coast of Australia (and everywhere else) because of the abnormally high rainfall over the last year or so. For instance, the BOM website gives the average rainfall to December for Karratha as 273 mm (10 inches... so it’s arid) and the total for the year up to December in 2010 as 55 mm... parched! So far this year (2011) a total of 765 mm has been recorded, almost three time the average and fifteen times the 2010 total. As I write the first cyclone of the 2011/2012 season (Cyclone Alenga) is dispersing north west of Australia without touching land... always gets everyone’s attention in the Top End.

 

A very relaxed Magpie Lark...

2011 has been an exceptionally wet year across the length and breadth of Australia. South western WA was last on the list and finally got it’s rains by midwinter. So for the first time in I would imagine, many many years the whole of the Australian continent was green. Right across the normally arid areas of central and northern Australia high rainfall has turned the desert verdant. Some parts of central Australia instead of being its usual dust bowl looked like a cow paddock. In the Pilbara there are still many pools of water lying in the creeks and rivers where most of them would normally be bone dry.

 

While there are not so many as there was earlier in the year the Sturt Desert Pea is still in flower. This one looks like the head of the "Red Devil", not a "Red Dog".

At this time of the year the migrating waders are well established in their southern hemisphere summer habitat. Across the several thousand kilometers of coastline along the top of Australia there is an almost boundless expanse of mud and sand flats exposed by the high tidal movement... up to 10 metres in places. Most of this area is remote and difficult to access. It is almost impossible to get a handle on just how many birds are potentially out there but at least here in Karratha it is not too difficult to get a taste... and a hunger to explore further.

 

White-plumed Honeyeaters were very active around the Miaree Pool. These northern birds seem to have a large dark eye and a pale bill.

Nickol Bay boat ramp is a great coastal location to visit for both a richness of species and abundance of birds and is only a few minutes from the centre of town. It has a bustling interface with the wide expanses of tidal mud and sand flats out to sea, the mangroves that fringe the coast in many places, the estuaries of mangroves, samphire and open mudflats; and the grasslands, shrubs and rocky outcrops immediately behind the coast.

 

Singing Honeyeaters are common along the coastal fringe.

The Miaree Pool is under the North Western Coastal Highway a short drive west of Karratha. It is one of the many places where the Maitland River flows down over rocky outcrops into a series of wide and deep pools. The banks are fringed with tall eucalypts, reeds and shrubs. Triodia spinifex grasslands and sparse acacia bushes cover the surrounding undulating hills.

 

Whistling Kites, Black Kites and Wedge-tailed Eagles are frequently seen at the Miaree Pool area.

The Pilbara, while's its probably not on the "hot spot" bird watching map is a really interesting destination for bird watchers looking for something a little bit different and who enjoy exploring areas that are off the beaten track. Who knows... you might see a red dog!

Waterbirds At Gluepot

Mallee at Gluepot Reserve at Picnic Dam. abundant growth after good rainfall seasons has benefited the whole reserve.

 After a month in Italy... lakes, quaint villages, mountains, Duomo’s (cathedrals), Sacra Monte (Sacred Mountain) heavenly risottos pizza and seafood... yummy... good as it was, what I needed more than anything was to sit under a gum tree, breathe the fresh scent of the bush and see the southern stars by night. So, after a visit to the grandkids and a quick mow of the lawns it was off to Gluepot. The last time I went to Gluepot was August 2009 when it was still in drought. And has it changed since then.

 

Mallee re-generating after the 2006 fires. A good spot for Rainbow Bee-eaters who can sit on the high dead branches watching for prey.

If you haven’t been to Gluepot then you need a good talking-to. Gluepot is just one part of a huge band of conservation mallee reserves that stretches from NSW around AWC Scotia, across the border into South Australia that includes Dangalii Conservation Park, Calperum Station, Taylorville Station to mention a few. It’s a must see!

Central Bearded Dragon on the road into Gluepot

Now if you are thinking that it’s too hot to go to Gluepot in November and December, then think again. The weather right up to Christmas does get hot, but between the hot days there are always fantastic days when the cooler air blown up from the southern ocean cools South Australia... and the days are longer too. It must be a secret because I was the only person camping on the reserve... how peaceful after the madding crowds of Milano.

A Rainbow Bee-eater taking advantage of the uninterupted view from the high perches available in the burnt areas from the 2006 fires.

Driving in from the Morgan Road what was most noticeable were the large number of Woodswallows. They were in good numbers throughout the whole reserve. They were flying overhead in large groups, feeding on the ground and congregating in large groups in trees.  It seemed to start with that they were all Masked Woodswallows and were probably the most abundant, but there were still lots of White-browed and a few White-breasted.

A few of the seventy mostly juvenile Black-tailed Native Hen foraging around a flooded area at the Old Gluepot Dam.

To start with I headed west to the Old Gluepot Dams. Even though the dams on the reserve have been bulldozed the rains have filled the remaining hollows into ponds of varying sizes. At the Old Gluepot Dam there was a large number of mostly juvenile Black-tailed Native Hens, along with Grey Teal, Pacific Black Duck, Australasian Grebes, Pink-eared Duck, a solitary Hardhead and a Coot. A White-necked and a White-faced Heron were also in attendance. Kangaroo Dam had Grey Teal, Pacific Black Duck, Australasian Grebes, a few Black-tailed Native Hens and a Hardhead on its much smaller pond area.

Pink-eared Duck and a Coot... unusual visitors to Gluepot. At the Old Glue Dam.

By the end of the first day the winds had died away and the night was still and quiet. The next morning dawned clear, cool and not a breath of wind... I needed my jacket. I had camped at the Babbler camp site just east of the Visitors Centre. The sun was just appearing through the trees as I began the South Babbler walk. It was so utterly tranquil and lots of birds. The track starts in Casuarina, crosses a low sand dune and into mallee. Hooded and Red-capped Robins, Bell birds calling, Mulga and Ring-necked Parrots, Grey Currawong and a gorgeous male Splendid Fairy-wren.

A Masked Woodswallow, one of the many woodswallows seen all over Gluepot and surrounding areas. (Species corrected to Masked Woodswallow - thanks Helga)

Back to the camp... infused the air with the aroma of cooking bacon that I’d got from the Adelaide Central Market before I left, some free range eggs... gallus gallus and then the North Babbler Walk.

Brown-headed Honey-eater at the South Babbler Walk.

Broke camp after and Emu parade to see what I’d left lying around and headed for home via Picnic Dam, Kangaroo Dam and Old Gluepot Dam.

The absolutely fabulous Splendid Fairy-wren at South Babbler.

The White-breasted Heron was at Kangaroo Dam and the ducks, minus the Pink-eared were still at the Old Gluepot Dam.

Adult White-browed Woodswallow.

Well... after sitting under a gum tree, breathing the scents of the bush and gazing at the myriads of stars, not to mention a good selection of birds and particularly water birds my visit to Gluepot restored my inner being and helped overcome the jet-lag. But it still left me pondering why and how water birds would come to Gluepot when in reality there was not much water there. Black-tailed Native Hens numbers seem to have exploded everywhere you look. I even saw a couple down at my local beach a Seacliff foraging around a permanent spring that flows out of the base of the cliff. The puzzle continues...

A White-necked Heron at Kangaroo Dam at Gluepot. Another uncommon visitor.

 The full species list and comments can be seen on http://www.eremaea.com/Lists.aspx?List=102950 and http://www.eremaea.com/Lists.aspx?List=103078

 

The Old Mate and the Texan

The old mate strolled out to the gate one day when there was nothing much else to do other than get the mail and give a wide berth to the missus. It was one of those somnambulent type of days when the sun was shining and it was not too hot and there was only about a couple of million bush flies to the acre.

While he was waiting for the mail truck he leaned against the gate that was conveniently under the shade of a gum tree and gazed lazily across the paddocks at his sheep and cattle dotted among the few trees on the rolling hills that was his block and tried to turn a blind eye to the weeds, broken fences, the cattle yards that needed fixing and the rest of the work that could wait for a more convenient day when the stars were lined up properly.

After a while this flash looking SUV came high tailing it down the road in a cloud of dust and bad manners and stopped beside the Old Mate. A bloke in a big hat got out and came over and said gidday.

"Is this your ranch? the Texan asked"

"Yea, it's my property." the old mate replied.

How big is it? the Texan enquired.

Well, when there's a drought on it's not big enough, when it mustering time or I need to spray the Paterson's Curse then it's too big, but right now it's about the right size.

"In Texas it takes me all day to drive around the house paddock in my own truck," says the Texan.

"Yea, I know," says the old mate sympathetically, "I got a truck like that too!

Mate!

What's the Wingspan of a Duck...

 

My favourite Magazine...the spring 2011 edition.

Wingspan is the only magazine I get, or read, apart from Flight Safety which is also an avian fanzine. Maybe I’m bonkers because I read Wingspan from cover to cover, even the adds... I enjoy the information, photos and comments. I might add I cannot abide watching Masterchef, Australia’s Got Talent or football other than the Rugby World Cup which at last had its rightful and proper conclusion... moving on...

 Male Mallard on the outlet of Lago Maggiore, Lombardy, Italy.

The spring, 2011 edition of Wingspan has a befuddlement of mixed messages, sensational journalism and confused morality. I’m anticipating Media Watch taking a swipe at Wingspan... and waiting... so I thought I might save them the bother and do it for them, being the global citizen that I am, assuming as you do that Wingspan represents the voice of Birds Australia.

“Lies, damned lies and statistics” has been attributed to either Mark Twain or Benjamin Disreali, who doubtless stole it from someone else, but now seems to have been adopted by Wingspan. The shock jocks at Wingspan in a burst of creativity calculated the number of ducks that could have been shot during the recent duck shooting season by multiplying the number of licensed duck shooters, the bag limit per day and the number of days in the season and came up with a total of a mere 18,000,000 ducks. This is plainly ludicrous because, and I’m using statistics here, working on an equally credible assumption that each duck shooter fires five shots to gun down each hapless duck and each shotgun shell has gazillions of steel shot packed into it; therefore, during the last season one hundred and sixty five billion steel balls were fired into the skies above Victoria and South Australia. This would account for a barrage not heard since the landings on D-day and would clearly result in deafening the entire population of Victoria, South Australia and into the bargain King Island and southern New South Wales. Furthermore, the weight of all this steel cascading down on Victoria and South Australia would cause them to sink below sea level providing a better habitat for the few remaining ducks. It may even cause the planet to go out of orbit, not to mention the magnetic interference of so much steel causing whales to go off track and beach themselves and I have not seen one whale beach itself in South Australia this year even though I’m in Italy at the moment.

 

Mute Swan on the river at Sesto Calende, Lago Maggiore... Swan Lago...

Appalled as I am by Wingspan’s unabashed molesting of statistics, the centre-fold graphically depicting a White-bellied Sea-Eagle attacking a Shy Albatross was an uncalled for glorification of cruelty in the natural world. Maybe this sort of thing goes on in nature (or on the news on tele) but to promote it so brazenly was to my mind unconscionable. Wingspan failed to mention that the poor old Albatross, who was minding his own business being shy, is now unquestionably dead as a duck having died of its wounds...

Anyway, anyway, anyway... next I came to Macquarrie Island; as I read Wingspan I travel about in my mind to all the places in the magazine... you see some of the reasons why I’v gone a bit loco.

 

Mute Swan paddles the water along with powerful wing beats to get airborne.

Maybe I march to the beat of a different drum but it seems to me that the ecology of a habitat is largely a balanced thing, especially in a geographically limited and isolated area such as an island which is several thousand miles from the nearest fast food outlet. So when humans, government departments and other calamities disrupt the order of things, repercussions are bound to happen. I got the impression that after the TP&WS removed all the cats from Macquarrie Island that it came as a belated surprise to them 10 years later when they discovered that rabbits suddenly eaten the place barren and in the process destroying the breeding habitat of many birds... duuuh! How many deaths, and lack of breeding potential did that effect. Then to top it off “Unfortunately”  the method used to kill off the rabbits killed over 400 birds... how much over?

Maybe Macquarrie Island muddles the brain of those who go there...  If a predator is totally removed from a closed habitat surely one would expect the “prey” numbers to explode. Maybe the experts thought the rabbits would be so sad to see the end of the cats that they would simply pack up and jump into the sea and swim to Tasmania where they could be eaten by Tasmanian cats. A sort of victim and offender dialogue program.

 

Black-headed Gull are common throughout Europe... a sort of EEC Gull... unlike the the Euro is likely to survive...

So on the one hand while duck shooters killing birds is totally unacceptable, on the other government departments killing birds is “unfortunate”. I’m not arguing against sensible and well planned intervention, it is often necessary. One would hope that the decision to do so when it’s needed is taken very seriously... by some!

There are a number of issues here. It seems that animal liberationists or what ever they call themselves are hijacking bird watchers by appealing to bird watcher’s sense of outrage with the killing of protected birds to bolster liberationists desire to see all cruelty to all animals banned. Many bird watchers no doubt support both intentions.

 

What can you say about a Coot...

The concept of preventing killing of animals on the basis of objecting to cruelty in the natural world, including by man, is plainly absurd. It has no morale or scientific rationale and even less consistent practical application. Objections to killing animals that have populations at risk is a different matter. Killing animals that are, or potentially may negatively impact their environment is commonplace and needed. How do animal liberations deal with the latter. The only way to is to play God and pick and choose who goes and who stays. Sadly it seems that many conservationists, animal liberationists and scientists are so caught up in their own misguided attempts to inflict human emotions on animals (there’s a word for that...) that they put themselves above God.

However, as Wingspan illustrates in this edition, death is not only part of the natural cycle of life, but also expressly done by governments and other organizations (including Birds Australia... see current removal of goats from Gluepot.) Attempts to paint shooters as irresponsible and I quote “ by any standards, self regulation by shooters was a failure”, is patronizing because another article in the spring edition, “Parrots and Permits” clearly portraits that many birds watchers are little better. Their desire to get “ticks” takes precedence over all of the consequences of their actions. Bird watchers themselves are clearly responsible for the unnecessary displacement and death of thousands of birds. By road kill on their bird watching travels; disturbance of habitat particularly during breeding; the now endemic use of phone apps to locate “ticks”; capture and release and by poorly managed scientific and research projects. Presumably hunters are killing the goats at Gluepot.

 Great Crested Grebes are common in Europe and around the world including Australia.

If out of 18 million ducks that could have been shot only 75 protected birds were found dead then that’s an error rate of 0.0000041667... I love statistics... hunters should get an environmental award for their efforts, pity the TP&WS couldn’t do the same.

The world’s museums hold millions of skins of birds. These are an almost priceless resource for the study of birds, contribute immensely to future conservation as well as being the basis of most of the field guides we bird watchers enjoy. Almost all these birds were deliberately shot! Misplaced morality means that today this resource is slowly fading away and not being replaced. If cruelty was an issue in the days when most of these skins were collected then such a valuable asset would not be available today and science would be a lot worse off for it. Future science will regret our ill-founded short-sightedness.

 

The Italian Sparrow... a hybrid of the House and Spannish Sparrow... brown head instead of grey. 10,000,000 House Sparrows die in the UK because of mobile phone towers caused by bird watchers ringing their mates... a British tabloid reports... another reputed scientific publication.

The simple truth is hunting has been around for a lot longer than bird watching and is a normal human activity. Talking about goats; I’ll bet a dollar to a knob of goat dung that Wingspan won’t advocate banning the Luritja people, who so graciously assisted in the sighting of the Princess Parrots, from their traditional hunting. All death to animals involves cruelty and death is used to control animals for many reasons. There is no humane way to kill an animal. In fact death for animals in the natural world is a lot more drawn out and painful than by shooting. Just ask an albatross and a goat.

So, what is Birds Australia’s position on killing of animals? Is it a conservation organisation or an animal cruelty organisation or both? What is it’s policy and leadership on how bird watchers themselves are impacting our environment? It’s always better to condemn other’s faults than to clean up your own backyard.

 

Fog on Lago Di Como... Italy has had severe flooding this autumn.

Banning activities just drives them underground. Education and proper regulation of hunting areas and seasons achieves a result that is a workable compromise for all stakeholders. Birds Australia would be well advised to adopt a policy of included hunting organizations in their dialogue to minimize the impact on birds and particularly endangered birds.

Never-the-less, I’m going to continue to look forward to the arrival of Wingspan (in its Lord Howe Island polluting plastic bag - see “A Gutful of Plastic” ) in my mail box and as always, and read every word to boot. In South Australia our state magazine comes in a paper envelope... If Wingspan is tending towards becoming a tabloid then lets have a page three girl (or boy.. seeing we’re so insanely politically correct these days). Wingspan has been hoisted by it’s own petard. Seeing I’m in Italy I’m off the Verona for another scene of one of Shakespeare’s tragedies...

Sesto Calende, Lombardy, northern Italy.

Please note: the author is a Christian, member of BA and BirdsSA, no longer owns any guns and has no intention of duck shooting.... hoisted with his own petar” is  from Hamlet... and is currently working in Sesto Calende, Italy.

 

The Manhattan High Line

The High Line in Western Manhattan provides a quiet walk surrounded by nature. It was landscaped on a disused elevated railroad.

Frozen turkeys were the last freight carried on the elevated rail way that ran over streets and through buildings on the west side of Manhattan Island. After that it fell disused and nature began to reclaim it. Grasses, shrubs and trees grew in the gravel among the steel railway lines. Part of the line was demolished until locals successfully managed to convince the authorities to retain the un demolished section and make it a public park.

 

The High Line passes through some of the older and more run down areas of Manhattan. The Hudson River and New Jersey in the background. 

Now there are over two kilometers of aerial walkway from 30th Street West southwards to Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District. The pebble concrete path strolls beside, wooden seats, grassy lawns and gives elevated views of the city. The railway lines have been left in place and the grasses and woodland trees grow out from between them. A wetland section has water flowing over the pavement where you can sit on the wooden seats, remove your foot ware and paddle bare feet alongside tall reeds.

 

Good views can be had looking down the East - West Streets of Manhattan Island.

We sauntered south along it’s entire length, stopping frequently for a relaxing look over the Hudson River, the old buildings and warehouses around Chelsea, and lunching in the tunnel where the railway passed through the Western Electric building.

 

The original railroad passed through the General Electric building. I'ts now a nice spot to shelter for lunch and buy a coffee.

There are lots of unexpected and innovating aspects to New York City and this is just one of them. And while it doesn’t have the huge expanse of Central Park, the High Line provides an unhurried natural place above the hectic bustle of the city below.

There's even a patch of lawn to walk on and wooden benches to relax.

Connie Does A Circuit At Wollongong

Runway 34 at Wollongong. The take off roll begins...

just airborne...

finals back on Runway 34... and

touchdown....