Monthly Blogs March 2006: Blog No.1 Don't get me wrong, there are some really outstanding birding locations in Sussex. Take our coastline, for example. It goes for miles and we can see really good birds at almost any time of the year, but particularly in the winter. The trouble is, that from a photographic point of view, the direction, or angle, of the light is just plain wrong. I like to get the sun right behind me when photographing wildlife. In other words, I try to get my shadow pointing directly at the subject. 'At', I said, not casting a shadow over it. This means that all those lovely waders on the beach at Ferring are hard to take, because you are either shooting directly into the sun, or directly across it. The same problem goes for the whole of our coastline. The next problem is the quality, or level, of the light. Sunless days in winter can be a big problem, when it is almost impossible to get a decent shot at the birds and if you are using what these days is called a prosumer digital camera, you may not even be able to focus on birds where there is little decent contrast. After taking a long time stalking a little egret, I have stood frustrated just a few short yards away unable to get my 'prosumer' to focus! The answer is, of course, to use a digital SLR camera. Unless you are digiscoping, and there can sometimes be quality problems associated with that growing branch of photography, the next problem is finding birds large enough to photograph. Small birds shot from a distance do not fill the frame and you merely end up feeling frustrated. Even large birds from quite close can appear small in the final frame. So, the only answer is to either get yourself one of those super-telephoto lenses (but how many of us can afford the thousands of pounds they cost), or get, what I call, up close and personal. This is by far my preferred way of operating. The time I take to approach a wary subject is spent studying as much as I can about it. I well remember when I bought my first scope and added a digiscoping attachment to my shopping list. This Norfolk birder berated me and suggested that I should spend more time just using the scope to study birds. Well said, but just how many of these eager beavers follow their own advice? I have watched them carefully. Yes, they do take a look at a new bird, but then invariably stand around in a group talking between themselves. On the other hand, I have been spending upwards of half an hour getting closer and closer to my subject, during which time I have been studying every movement. This means that when the time comes for me to start taking a few photos, I may be better able to anticipate a yawn, or wing flap, or some other behaviour that will add some interest to the shot. Of course, the moment I flush that bird, the conversation stops and the birders all have a real old go at me, even though they have not been watching it for ages! I use a DSLR with an 80-400mm zoom, which has vibration reduction and this can be compared to a 35mm 640mm telephoto lens. This is a great all-purpose lens for wildlife photography, as it can be hand-held most of the time, but is does still mean that I have to get as close as possible to my subject. That is why I love travelling abroad, as so much wildlife can be human tolerant, with the added benefit of great light. I always take better shots when travelling overseas than I can take at home! I use a prosumer digital camera for macro work and if the light is really good I will digiscope using my Nikon scope, which gives me something like 1500mm (35mm equivalent), but that is another story. I am not a great fan of digiscoping with my set-up, because I have to work at a fixed aperture of f/13 and this can mean a very slow shutter speed. Then there is the big problem with tripod vibration, the only real answer being to use a radio shutter release. All this adds up to hassle! My next camera may well be the new Nikon D200. This has something like 11MP and this should mean that I can shoot slightly smaller in the frame shots and crop to size without losing too much image quality. The Widewater Lagoon, Shoreham-by-sea This is my all time favourite photographic location in Sussex. You will find it by driving along the coast from Brighton towards Worthing. After you cross the bridge over the River Adur you will come to a large roundabout with a garage on the left. Take the first turning on the left off this roundabout, then the first right and follow the road along to the right as far as it goes. There is a large car park at the end, free in the winter. I love this place because there are always little egrets here. Until a few short years ago these were really rare visitors, but they now breed in several different locations in the county and have, for me, become an iconic bird. I just love to photograph them and can get closer to them here than any other place I have ever seen them , both in England and abroad. There are also plenty of other regulars here in the winter months: redshanks, ringed plovers, water rail, dabchicks, kingfishers, black redstarts and several species of gulls and terns, to name but a few. There have also been occasional sightings of really quite exciting visitors, such as grey phalarope and spoonbills. It doesn't get much better than that! Another great thing about Widewater is that the light is always right. As you face the lagoon, with your back to the sea, the direction of the light is always coming from behind you and this makes for far better wildlife images. You will also notice that the houses on the other side of the lagoon throw some great reflections on the water and, depending on the time of day you visit, these can enhance many of your photographic images. The area is a designated Local Nature Reserve, but that does not stop the dog walkers. Now, in the part of Sussex where I live, the dog owners are generally very good about clearing up their dog mess. Unfortunately, there are some in Shoreham who could do well to follow suit, as some parts of this delightful reserve are very messy indeed and you have to watch more where you are placing your feet than the great wildlife. It is also a shame that some of these dogs are allowed to freely roam right along the edge of the lagoon, where they disturb all the birds. As for those owners who actively encourage their pets to run amok on the beach scattering the flocks of waders and gulls, well, I am speechless.... Still, don't let this put you off coming to this place. Pick a sunny day and enjoy the sea air, you will not be sorry and don't forget the harbour area at Shoreham and the river itself. Great birds, great scenery! April 2006:
Blog No.2 Until recently I have never given angling much thought, other than to perhaps say that I could not understand why so many people stood around in all weathers trying to catch fish, and then once caught to throw them back again. This seemed such a strange thing to do and totally boring. I used to help my maternal grandfather stake out some 200 hooks on a line on the beach at Littlestone-on-sea, dig 200 lug worms, bait the hooks and then fish the tides. It was extremely hard work and all the fish were either sold, or eaten. I still remember the night, just before mid-night, when we walked out onto the beach as the tide was going out to see the whole line flapping about in a frenzied manner. All200 hooks held a fish, which included a 6-foot conger eel and a 32-lb cod. The eel had to be killed on the beach, as one bite from those teeth could have taken off one of our hands and it took the two of us a single trip to bring that fish alone up onto the shoreline. I also distinctly remember that the cod’s head weighed a little over 12lb, something that has always astonished me. So, this business about catching fish and then putting them back seemed such a very strange thing to do. That is, until recently. We had driven up to the Midlands to visit my in-laws and had gone for a walk with some friends around the lakes at Earlswood. There is a lot of water here, once used to top up the Midlands canal systems and they now hold quite a lot of birds – great crested grebes, ducks and there is a lot of other birdlife around the edges. One of the lakes was evidently used for fishing, as there were fishing pontoons all around the edges. As we passed one of these pontoons I heard a bleep. There was no-one there, just a couple of fishing rods on a stand. We walked on towards where a group of fishermen were talking and I happened to mention that one of the rods had bleeped. No-one seemed to take any notice, that is, until they heard another bleep and that had them running. What followed was a fascinating battle between fish and fisherman that lasted a good quarter of an hour and then a magnificent 9½-pounder was netted. It was a fish I have never seen before, a mirror carp and very beautiful at that. It was carefully handled by Graham, the chap who had fought so hard to land it, some photos were taken and it was carefully replaced in the water, where it immediately swum away. As I walked away I suddenly realised what it is that persuades so many people to take up this sport. Not that I am about to spend my time sitting on a river bank fishing, you understand, but now I know. If you want to see an image of this fish, I have included one in the photo galleries. Sri Lanka Travel Diary: 14-27 February 2006 We wanted a break, some respite from the cold, dreary English winter and to feel some sun on our backs and I wanted to get close and personal to some wildlife with my camera. We had visited Sri Lanka twice in the past and were upset at media reports that so much money donated for the benefit of the tsunami victims was not being spent and by other reports about wastage. We are generally unattracted to all-inclusive deals, as so little of the money spent filters back into local communities and decided to book direct with a Sri Lankan tour company, Adventure Lanka Tours. Our choice could not have been better. Whilst I had some concerns about dealing with a travel company in a foreign country, these soon disappeared. The service was incredibly professional and efficient and before we knew it an itinerary had been agreed and everything was booked and paid for. Friends expressed their fears about the political unrest in Sri Lanka and urged us not to go. We replied that we were not going to either the east, or the north, of the country and really could see no difference from the other times we had gone. Neither could we see any difference between the problems there, or the ones we had suffered for so long during the IRA bomb threats in England. There was simply no good reason not to go. Day 1: Colombo Around the corner there is one end of the Beira Lake complex, the one where a temple is located on an island in the lake. You will never get closer to white pelicans than this location, or for that matter great, intermediate and little egrets and the many other small herons that live there. Indeed, although the water is heavily polluted with an alarming colour, the area is heaving with wildlife. The day before there had been a big religious festival at a nearby temple and we were able to see Rajah, one of the country’s great male crossed tuskers before he returned to Kandy – walking all the way, of course. In the evening we were treated to dinner by Ruban, one of the owners of Adventure Lanka, at a restaurant specialising in north Sri Lankan food, and what a delicious experience that turned out to be. Day 2: Colombo to Wasgamuwa Day 3: Wasgamuwa to Nuwera Eliya This is not the place to list all the birds we saw that morning, as there were so many species and several very close indeed to the jeep, but it is an outstanding location to see the lesser adjutant storks close up and personal. Our only regrets were that we had to stay in the jeep at all times, had to stay on the tracks and could not stand up. Before we knew it, we were back in the car, setting off on another longish journey to Nuwera Eliya along some pretty dreadful roads, but with absolutely glorious scenery all the way and where the splendid comfort of the St Andrew’s Hotel awaited us. What a shame we could not have stayed longer at Wasgamuwa, as this location would repay a much longer stay. This day turned out to be a good one for crested serpent eagles and Indian rollers, several being seen perched atop telegraph posts and wires and we arrived at Nuwera Eliya in good time to have a walk in the park, where we saw the often difficult to see Indian Pitta and a number of other endemic birds. Day 4: Horton Plains and on to Kitulgala Once again we were up before the sun, but what a treat it was to drive up into the mountains, watching the mist disperse in the valleys below. Just before the park entrance we got out of the jeep for a walk and were immediately treated to the sight of an alpha-male bear monkey looming above us in the canopy, as though he was a gorilla. Not for long though, as he let go and dropped through the branches with a great crash and hurtled off into the distance with his large family. Unfortunately, the mist had still not cleared when we arrived at World’s End, but it was still an eerie experience gazing over the lip of the precipice. More good birds, then back to check out of the hotel and on again through mountainous scenery to Kitulgala, of Bridge Over the River Kwai fame. We left with memories of that bear monkey, the lizards, some more great birds, giant squirrels, elk and much more besides. Rafter’s Retreat at Kitulgala is a pretty basic type of eco lodge, nonetheless an interesting experience! That evening we were entertained by the antics of some members at the Tea Planters’ Conference being held there that day. Day 5: Kitulgala to Sinharaja Martin’s Eco Lodge, near the gates to the Sinharaja Rain Forest Reserve, is another offering basic accommodation, but the food, all freshly cooked on the day, is simply delicious and the scenery outstanding. Sinharaja offers the keen birder the chance to see almost all of the endemic birds in that one location, but don’t expect close-up views. You also have to take precautions against the many leaches that abound in this area, but there really is no need to become paranoid about them. I was leached just the one time and it caused me no problems whatsoever. Day 6: Sinharaja Rain Forest Reserve The closer I approached, the lizard flushed redder, but did nothing more than eye me with interest. On the other hand, just how the forest trackers found the rare owl is beyond me. It was roosting deep in the rainforest, down some difficult muddy, slippery slopes and across some even muddier streams. I was worried about my camera gear, but managed to negotiate the obstacles without too much trouble. Even though perched at eye level, the owl was still really hard to see, but once you knew where to look, there it was. Newly named to science in 2004, we were one of a small band of people fortunate enough to see this beautiful, golden coloured, spotty breasted bird. It made our day and our tracker deserved the large tip we gave him! After that the rest of the day was something of an anti-climax, but in the afternoon we had another long walk, enjoying the vast bio-diversity of this great reserve. Day 7: Sinharaja to Uda Walawe If you want to see elephants, then this is the reserve to visit. We saw well in excess of a hundred, one herd comprising over fifty individual, amongst which were many babies. Then there are vast herds of water buffalo and too many species of birds to list here, although the buttonquails provided a lot of interest and there were, of course, the wonderfully coloured Malabar hornbills in abundance. Then a moment of great drama; we had stayed on in the reserve to the last moment, then stopped for a king coconut by the roadside. This meant we got back to Selara after dark and as I entered our lodge I felt along the right hand wall for the light switch. Unfortunately, I had forgotten there was a step inside the room and the next minute I had tripped and my big lens had landed front down on the ground splitting the casing badly. After five minutes of really bad Anglo-Saxon, I was relieved to discover that the lens still worked, but an expensive repair job awaited on our return to England. Day 8: Uda Walawe to Yala There are great lakes, or water tanks, on the way to Yala, all of which afford excellent close viewing of waterbirds and eagles. It would be nice another time to arrive in these places earlier in the day and before the heat starts to build up, when photographic opportunities could be spectacular. The place we stayed at on our last visit to Yala was swept away in the tsunami with great loss of life and so we were booked into the comfortable and well-equipped Yala Village Hotel. This is really just a tourist transit camp for the hundreds of people who come to visit this famous reserve, all hoping, of course to see a leopard. An afternoon on another jeep safari yielded great numbers of birds, elephants, spotted deer, land monitors, grey langur monkeys, but no leopard. The main problem here is that as soon as our jeep stopped, we had another twenty around us within minutes. No one wanted to miss a thing, but we did manage to give most of them the slip for quite a long time and as a result we suspect we saw many more birds than the others. Another great plus was that being on our own, we did not have to worry about pleasing other people in the jeep and could spend as much, or little, time in any location as we wished. That made my photography much easier! The accommodation at the hotel is really good: the food is standard tourist buffet style and we ate better at Sinharaja, but that is the price you pay to come to such a popular location such as this. After dark we had to be escorted to and from our room by the hotel staff, just in case any wild elephants enter the compound and attack the guests. It all adds to the excitement! Day 9: Yala and Bundala In the afternoon, Lalit (our driver/guide) suggested a visit to Bundala Bird Reserve. Although not on our itinerary, we so very nearly missed one of the greatest birding experiences of our lives. We saw 107 species of birds in three hours, something we have never achieved before and which must place Bundala as being of the best birding locations anywhere in the world. Not many people know that! In fact, the whole afternoon was exciting from the moment we arrived at this marvellous destination. We had problems entering the reserve, as there were two male elephants in musk by the guardhouse at the entrance. Eventually they did deign to move aside and let us in, after which we were treated to such a birding extravaganza, we will never forget. The lakes hold such an amazing diversity of waders. In fact I think we saw all the species we were ever likely to see in Sri Lanka in just this one location. It was not that these birds were there in vast numbers; just the diversity of species astounded us. More extremely close encounters with the wonderful painted storks and eagles and then we moved to an area heaving with yellow bitterns and even a cinnamon bittern, only the second that our outstanding tracker had ever seen in the reserve. As dusk started to fall, sated, we headed for the park exit, only to find it blocked by the same two recalcitrant bull elephants. Why can’t someone organise a couple of females to calm them down? They had comprehensively smashed up the guardhouse, breaking all the glass on all four sides and splintering the wooden window frames. It was only after several thunder flashes had been hurled at them that we managed to escape, but what incredible memories to take home with us. We will never forget the experiences we had that afternoon. Day 10: Yala to Bentota We had opted to spend a few days on the coast at Bentota, staying in the marvellous small boutique style hotel called Club Villa. This is such a beautiful small hotel, exquisite food and the service provided by the staff would make any top hotel in the world envious. It was a long, long drive and we were worried about our driver Lalith, and by now close friend, because he still had to drive on to Colombo at the end. Needless to say, we saw a lot more great birds. I took several more great images of wildlife, we visited a gem shop and bought a necklace and visited the turtle hatchery at Bentota. Day 11: Bentota We returned to England with so many great memories and I have never captured so many quality images on a single trip before. We return with memories of the devastation caused by the tsunami, of the resilience of the people, of smiling faces, lovely hotels, excellent food, great service and our driver, guide and factotum, Lalith, who did so much to ensure that our every need was catered for. What a great guy! Our verdict on the trip? We have no hesitation in recommending Adventure Lanka Tours, which provided us with an outstanding tour and a trip we will remember for a long time. Sri Lanka is an amazing location to get close and personal to nature. We really do seem to have lost the plot in England, where it is so difficult to approach wildlife without it immediately departing in the opposite direction. This has to do with the attitudes of the general public. Although attitudes are starting to change, there are still far too many people who pay no regard to our wildlife. Does it have something to do with Buddhism? It seems to me that the Sri Lankans have learned to live better in harmony with other creatures. My close encounters with so many eagles were simply amazing. There were even times when the birds were so close I was having to back away to allow the lens to focus! Compare that with trying to get close to any bird of prey at home. Three national reserves were simply outstanding: Wasgamuwa, Uda Walawe and Bundala and I would be happy to return to all three and spend a lot more time in each. There is a good diversity of wildlife and outstanding photographic opportunities abound. May 2006: Blog
No.3 I haven’t done a lot of photography in the past month. The reason? I had loaded up some new antivirus/firewall software and this had caused me a huge problem with my web site. Whilst others could still see everything all right, I could not, as I could only access parts of some of my web pages. Now this greatly upset me. You see, it took me a long time to set up my web site. I had done nothing like it ever before and found it quite a challenging learning curve and so to have this happen made me quite cross. Really cross, actually. I contacted the program providers and for two weeks followed their daily e-mailed instructions. It got me nowhere. I went back to the shop where I had bought the software, only to be told that it was not company policy to reimburse anyone for software that did not do what it said on the package. I left muttering about the Sale of Goods Act and that if the problem did not resolve itself I would be asking for a damn sight more than a refund; indeed, I warned them that I would be seeking a new computer! They only laughed. I got fed up with the daily instructions and uninstalled everything, only to find that the damn thing would not re-install. I did a system restore for two days prior to when I had installed the antivirus software, then for a week before that. Nothing! There was still no joy and I was still unable to reinstall the antivirus software. Something really strange then happened. I tried to reinstall once more. I kept getting some strange message that seemed to say there was a system problem; I kept clicking on try again and after the tenth attempt it got bored before I did and loaded. Since then things seem to have returned to normal but I am not happy with Norton Internet Security. To think that I had to pay them to put me through two weeks of misery and for keeping me chained to my desk instead of getting out to look at the local wildlife. On the other hand I have got out twice and will tell you all about it now. Trip Report: Dungeness April 29 2006 Make no mistake, this location is unique and is simply full of wildlife. I manage to visit here several times a year, the main reason being I was born just along the coast at Littlestone and spent most of my formative years growing up at Greatstone. So, I know this area and used to know its people pretty well. In the 1940s and 50s I was able to freely roam across the shingle ridges for hours at a time, mostly alone and completely safe (unless I fell into one of the many marsh drainage ditches, or dykes, as they are known here and as I did on more than one occasion). I can still remember when I first saw a pair of shelduck, now a common sight on the RSPB reserve at Dungeness. I can also remember the last stone curlew to nest on the shingle in the early 1950s behind Lade and close to the ‘Listening Station’, as the prototype radar system was then known by the locals. It was possible in those distant days to walk along the top of the shingle ridges in late spring and spot the gull's nests in the hollows. In the immediate post-world-war-2 years, gulls eggs were always treasured in my grandmother’s house, where she used them to make wonderful home-cooked cakes, and they were a most welcome free source of food. I can also still remember seeing my first snow goose early one evening, just as it was coming dark. Walking off the marsh, I saw a thin skein of greylag geese flying in from the sea, with this snow goose trailing along behind acting as tail-end Charlie. I tracked it down the next day on a small expanse of water close to the perimeter fence of Lydd Airport. Although now much better known, Dungeness still has the ability to surprise and to enthral. After grabbing a quick skate and chips in the Pilot pub, I walked across the stones towards the sea, where I was treated to the sight of over 40 bar-tailed godwits dozing in the sunshine. There were several splendid males in full summer breeding plumage, but within minutes a group of people nearby had spooked them and they were off, flying fast across the wide bay towards Dover and beyond, no doubt on the first stages of their annual migration to their breeding grounds in the arctic. We checked out the ‘old’ lighthouse area and were disappointed not to see any wheatears. Perhaps they are late arriving this year – it has, after all, been an unusually late spring, but there were dozens of recently arrived linnets, including a flock of well in excess of 80. We watched as they parachuted one by one down from telegraph wires, where they had been perched, onto the grass below. Peacock butterflies were there a plenty and there were the first stirrings into growth of sea kale with its lovely purple colouration and other, smaller, unique stone loving plants. Another few weeks and the whole area will be ablaze with colour. Early purple orchids were in full bloom over near the old coastguard cottages, which are guarded from the worst of the winds by an immense earth and shingle bank. One of the locals stopped his car in amazement to watch as I photographed the orchids, lying at full length on my front. He must have thought I was mad judging from the look he gave me. A quick drive out to Denge Marsh yielded nesting lapwings and oystercatchers and then it was back to the RSPB reserve, not the main one, but the newer portion, the part only recently acquired from ARC, after the gravel removal operations had been wound down. There are good tracks and hides and we quickly notched up yellow wagtails, little ringed plovers, avocets, goldeneye and all the other usual waterbird suspects. Reed buntings flitted in and out of the scrubby bushes, whitethroats sang their scratchy little songs and linnets seemed to be flitting about everywhere we looked. Not bad for a fleeting 20 minutes in the reserve! Unfortunately, it is not that easy to get close to the birds to photograph them in this rather wild area, but that should not put you off from visiting. Every month from now onwards will yield new and interesting plants and wildlife and the more you are prepared to wander, the greater will be your reward. Trip Report: Titchfield Haven, Hampshire May 12th 2006 When I received an invitation from Naturetrek to visit them at Titchfield Haven I did not need much persuading. I had never visited the National Nature Reserve there and a 3rd great-grandmother, Charlotte Simmons had been born there circa 1787. She had married John Moreton and they had lived and raised children at Portsea, before they moved to set up business in Winchester. So, it was always going to be worth an hour and a half fast drive to take a good look at the area. It was one of those still, sunny mornings when we arrived, to be met with the sight of a Mediterranean gull drifting eastwards along the coast. Naturetrek had laid on some of their excellent bird guides to take us around the reserve, where we were treated to good views of four pairs of avocets, still plenty of the large flock of black-tailed godwits that over-winter here and excellent views of reed, sedge and cetti’s warblers. There were three baby lapwings foraging for food on the water’s edge and several hobbies were hawking the skies for food in the far distance. Whilst we were really impressed with this location and the bird-life there, I still find myself asking the same old question time and again. Why is it that bird hides are never built with bird photographers in mind? So many are wrongly orientated, which means that it is almost impossible to get the light angle right. It would not perhaps make that much difference if it was possible to visit either very early, or very late in the day, but that is not the case here and so we have to put up, as usual, with trying to take photographs at complet6ely the wrong time of day. If you believe that this does not matter to the majority of people, then think again. Just imagine how much better viewing could be for everyone if the light was right. This place is run by Hampshire County Council, which perhaps explains the rigid visiting times and the zealous manner in which visitors’ badges are checked to ensure that they have paid the entrance fee. I could not imagine trying to get into this place before, or after, hours, it is so well guarded. Is England really a nation of animal Lovers? Someone asked me the other day why I call myself a wildlifer. That’s an easy one. I enjoy all forms of wildlife, both flora and fauna and have never been able to merely just go for a walk in the countryside without watching the animals, birds, insects and flowers around me. This question got me thinking though. England is supposed to be a nation of animal lovers. Right? Well, actually no, I think that is wrong! You see, most of the dog owners I know love their dogs, but they really don’t like cats. The same goes for the many cat owners I know, they generally don’t like dogs and both sides are no longer content to own just a single animal. They have to be multi-dogged, or multi-catted. This in itself has become a problem in some areas, where an imbalance has been created. Just another of the already multitudinous ones created by man. Then there are all those people who put out food for birds. They love their garden birds, but they don’t like the wood pigeons, or the squirrels, which also come to the feeders. I know people who are always trying to think up new ways to discourage these creatures, but have any of them actually stopped for a moment to study them? The next time a ‘woodie’ comes up close, take a good look at him, or her, and see just how beautiful it is. The colours are amazing and as for those wonderful eyes… How many people, women in the main, do you know who cannot abide the creepy crawlies? My wife and two daughters all hate spiders and yet look what stunning creatures they can be (you only have to look at my photo galleries to realise this (see A Sussex Garden). It was when I got caught up in macro-photography that I realised what wonderful creatures spiders are and this then led me onto other small bugs and butterflies – all immensely rewarding to study. I remember my grannie used to hate the house sparrows, which nested in the ivy on the side of the house. She also hated those ‘common’ starlings. Both species are now in decline, the reasons still not fully apparent, but again take a close look at both species the next time you are able and see for yourself what beautiful creatures they are. Isn’t it strange that something as dark as a starling can have so many wonderful colours in its feathers? The other day, there was a headline in our local newspaper, The Mid Sussex Times, that screamed ‘Dogs rescued from Horror’. 170 dogs and 30 cats had been recovered on the brink of starvation. The unlicensed owner had told the council that she had stopped breeding, but she had died and the awful outcome hit the headlines of the national and world press, the story was so shocking. It was said that this woman loved her animals, but no-one was ever allowed anywhere near the kennels. The report I read went on to explain that her garden had been a haven for wildlife, with squirrels, pheasants and rare butterflies. Oh yes, pull the other one! Either she had all this wildlife in her garden, or she never let her cats out. I had an interesting conversation with one of my neighbours recently. Meeting her in the street I remarked how I had seen her cat playing with some fledgling blackbirds at about 10.30 in the evening and that the reason I had been able to see what was going on in the middle of my back lawn was because the movement had triggered our security lights. I was told that I was mistaken, that her cat never, ever, went outside after seven o’clock. How could she be sure of this, I asked. My neighbour just knew. I asked if she had a cat flap in her back door and she replied in the affirmative. I walked away! I am one of those people who feed the garden birds through the winter and who get really fed up when the nestlings get massacred either before, or after they leave the nest. It is not just cats that are the culprits. We get more than out fair share of magpies (which, despite what the RSPB says, are becoming increasingly urbanised), jackdaws and jays, not to mention the local sparrowhawk and they all do an incredible amount of damage to the garden bird population where I live, but it is the cats I find hard to understand. I have cat-owning friends who tell me that it is quite natural for cats to hunt and eat birds and if that was just the case I would understand the issue better, but our local cats do not just hunt young birds. When they catch them, they generally maul them around a bit and then leave them dying out in the open. They don't eat them. That is what I don’t understand. Why can’t their owners stick a bell around their necks to alert the other creatures to their presence? It is not at though our neighbourhood cats are under-nourished – not these days they aren’t! There are other reasons I dislike cats coming into my garden – I am a very keen gardener and I really do get upset when outside weeding and my hand goes down into a great pile of cat poo. I know, they have to do it somewhere, and their own gardens are such a mess, there is no freshly turned over earth available there! So, where do I really stand on cats? Am I in danger of being accused of not really being a true wildlifer? No, live and let live (if only the cats would do this too), as they have had a remarkable impact on the local rat population in the past three years and that I am not too unhappy about, if you understand my feelings! Whilst I am on this particular rant there is another issue about which I have some very strong feelings. The other day I travelled to London to attend a reunion lunch. After it was over I walked across Hyde Park towards The Albert Hall and enjoyed the view of several rose-ringed parakeets, and what a great spectacle these raucous, brightly coloured parrots made. It seemed to me that they had replaced the infamous London pigeons in the park, as I saw none at all. This is most strange. I had been aware for some time that they had been multiplying at a fast rate in London and the suburbs, but I have had to wait until this year for my first sighting of them in England. Indeed, I have now seen them in three separate locations in as many weeks. This has got me thinking about non-native species. Unlike recent reports of eagle owls breeding in Yorkshire, I have heard no voices raised in protest that we have an alien species multiplying at a very fast rate indeed. The RSPB and other scientists have been unusually quiet. So, why are parakeets, having bred from escapees, acceptable and eagle owls are not? Why are the RSPB and others happy to let the parakeets survive and yet there are rumours that eagle owls may have to be eliminated? I was among many people who watched the TV programme about eagle owls last year and who were appalled at the attitudes of certain members of our so-called protection bodies, who appeared to suggest that it would not be illegal to disturb these magnificent creatures. Perhaps it should have come as no surprise when one of these birds was later discovered dead from gunshot wounds. Later I watched another TV programme, this time one presented by Bill Oddy and was so annoyed at the content that I posted the following message on the Bird Guides website under the Bird watchers’ Code section. “This week, on BBC TV, we have been treated to the view of Bill Oddy watching as a tawny owl was violently encouraged to leave its nest (by a person banging hard on the side of the box in which it was sitting on eggs), whereupon the three eggs were removed and one handed to him for several minutes whilst he held it to a microphone so that we could all hear the baby inside. I found this almost unbelievable and think it inconceivable that anyone in their right mind should even contemplate doing such a thing, particularly as the chicks were so close to hatching. Has the BBC lost all semblance of common sense? Then for us all to be told not to follow suit, as the person who did this had a special licence. Does English Nature really give out licences for anyone to do such a thing? If so, is this just another case of ecological naivety by our so-called authorities? Why don't they follow the careful rules they set down for all the rest of us? It reminded me of the programme about the eagle owls in Yorkshire, where a scientist spokesman suggested that it might not be illegal to disturb these birds, or even to take their eggs. Within a few weeks we were all treated to the news that the female had been shot! Well, thank you very much indeed BBC”. Interestingly, this posting evoked no response from anyone, mainly I suspect because that part of the BirdGuides web site is hardly ever visited. As a wildlife photographer I have to closely follow very specific rules about how I behave in and around wildlife and there are always plenty of birders watching that I do not overstep the mark. To then watch such behaviour makes me very cross indeed, but as it is being done under licence for the great viewing public that makes it all right then, doesn’t it! I was reminded of this again the other day when a very rare migrant bird suddenly turned up. It caused a great ‘twitch’ and many people were really cross when it only hung around for a single day. The reason? Local bird ringers decided to net the bird and attach a ring to its leg. You really can’t get more invasive than that! It has been suggested that the only reason to ring that particular bird was to get another ‘tick’ in the ringing logbook, as there could be few reasons otherwise to do so. After considerable thought, I have made a decision. My Nikon Coolpix 8800 and Nikon D70 DSLR cameras have to go. I want the Nikon D200 DSLR. Its resolution is almost twice that of the D70 and this means that I will be able to crop my images more and enlarge them, whilst still retaining excellent quality. The D200 is also a far superior beast, albeit quite expensive for an amateur such as myself. Having said that, the cost is barely more than the annual sub at the local golf club, had I still been playing the game. Now, how about that as a good way to rationalise the new expenditure? I have been interested in photography ever since my late teens when I bought my first SLR camera. A Pentax it was and what a great camera. Mind you, I had to use a separate hand-held light meter and focus manually much of the time and many of my images were captured in black-and-white. Colour prints were expensive, so I gathered a huge collection of colour slides. Then the digital era arrived and my interest in photography took off again. At last here was an affordable way to take lots of pictures without the attendant processing costs. All it took was my time and, of course, I had to learn new computer processing skills. As I was about to embark on a near-six month round-the-world trip, I bought my first digital camera, a 3MP Canon G3, then top of the range for the non-pro. It captured some great images. After the trip there followed a period of frustration. I went to Costa Rica and was disappointed with the distant views of toucans, deciding to buy a more powerful camera, this time the 8MP Nikon Coolpix 8800. It had a 10x optical zoom with its immensely useful vibration reduction and it had a really good macro facility. I was all set, or was I? Image quality was excellent. The macro enabled me to grab some great close-ups and the zoom gave me the equivalent of a 350mm lens in 35mm terms, but… This camera was soooo slow in focusing and the write times to the memory card were less than impressive. I stalked a little egret to within a few feet and the camera just would not focus on the bird properly. Not enough contrast I was told. Still, it really did capture many quality images. This was a very frustrating time. All I wanted to do was photograph the local flora and fauna and for a person with an impatient temperament, such as myself, something had to happen. So, I invested in a Nikon D70 DSLR and bought an expensive zoom with vibration reduction. I felt as though I was born again. Although only 6.1MP, image quality was almost as good as the 8800, but the speed of it was what I wanted. A proper camera at last! The downside, of course, was that I had gone back to carrying a large, heavy camera bag stuffed full of lenses. I still used the 8800 for landscapes and macro work; the D70 for wildlife images. So, why am I selling my cameras? Well, Nikon have brought out the D200, 10.2MP, with vastly improved metering systems. It has a better spec than the full pro camera Nikon produced until recently and for a fraction of the cost. Why did I choose Nikon? You may well ask, as the majority of wildlife photographers are all using Canon gear these days. At the end of the day it comes down to affordability. Whilst the Canons appear to offer greater everything, the D200 is a fantastic piece of engineering and in the hands of an experienced photographer, (I kid myself that I am), produces images that are impossible to tell apart from film. I can’t wait to get close up and personal with some new wildlife… It is always an uplifting experience to walk on the southern chalk grass downlands, but in June it becomes a magical experience, as wild orchids and flowers start to bloom and rare butterflies emerge. Sussex is a wonderful place for orchids and they can be found in many surprising locations. Here in the heart of Mid-Sussex, in the centre of a medium sized town on a direct route from Brighton to London, is a garden less than 20 yards from where I live where the lawn is covered in May with dozens of green-winged orchids. They are utterly irresistible. The large house and garden was owned by Jennie, the house being her old family home, now split up into flats. She was immensely proud of her orchids that flowered in her lawn every year and took great care to ensure the flower heads died off and dropped their seeds before allowing her gardener to cut the grass. Sometimes she relented and allowed him to cut paths between the clumps of orchids, but earlier this year she sadly died and we now left wondering what the new owner will do in the future. Already the grass has been cut before all the orchids died down and the future prospects are not good. Will this be the last year we will see this magnificent display? On the other hand, my immediate neighbour, whose garden abuts that of Jennie, has found this year that orchids are growing in her back lawn and, good environmentalist that she is, she will ensure that these survive and prosper. There is still some hope left in this world that we can thwart the march of the barbarians! Then, along the roadside next to the hospital, on a bank by the path, are some later orchids, which are just beginning to show their faces. The premier location, however, is on the downs between Ditchling and Lewes. You have to be fit enough to walk up a steep slope to where a track traverses the side of the down, but you are then rewarded by the sight of hundreds of orchids, in some years up to ten species all in flower at the same time. The environment is a fragile one and does not need hordes of people tramping all over the area. Last week I made my the first of a series of annual pilgrimages to walk the area and was treated to the sight of common spotted and fragrant orchids in exceptionally good numbers. Before long others will follow them… Adonis blue butterflies flicked from flower to flower, a young cuckoo sat on a fence and buzzards soared around us. This is such a great place! Oh, and the sun shone, blisteringly hot by the time we left, but we had made an early start. July 2006: Blog No.5 If you look at an old map of the Romney Marsh, you can see that much of it was once water and tidal. Over the years great efforts were made to reclaim land from the sea and a network of drainage ditches, or dykes, and earthen banks, or walls, were constructed. Family history has it that my maternal great grandfather on my grandfather's side was the engineer in charge. So, it should come as no surprise when I tell you that this was a wonderful area for lapwings in the immediate post-second world war years. When trying to cut across country by the most direct route the dykes were a real barrier. Most were just too wide to jump across. Many had narrow, rotting planks of wood thrown across them but it was an extremely bold, or foolhardy, soul who dared to walk the plank. It took considerable nerve indeed. Over the years, however, sufficient local knowledge was built up to enable me to walk more or less in a straight line and this always helped greatly when escaping from the "lookers" or marsh shepherds, who also had responsibility to keep trespassers away. To be honest, they frequently turned a blind eye, particularly if no gun was carried, as it was often possible to help them by reporting dogs worrying the sheep (and for which rewards were paid), or sheep which had fallen into the dykes and which would have died without immediate assistance. In those days it was perfectly legal to take the eggs of the Bastard Plover (yes really, according to Thomas Bewick), Lapwing, or Pee-wit as it is also known. On the Marsh they started laying from about the middle of March, usually a maximum of four eggs in a small scrape on the edges of the stones, in stubble fields, or in grass which had been cropped short by the Marsh sheep. We were allowed to take eggs until the middle of April, from memory the 14 or 15th, on the basis that until then most would be destroyed during the spring ploughing. We sent many of the eggs up to London, placing them in the care of the guardsman on the train leaving from the station at Littlestone-on-sea, but for some reason called New Romney station. From there they would travel to Ashford to be transferred onto the London train and thence on to Leadenhall market in the City. The cash, generally one shilling (5p) per egg was sent back by post. Such was the trust in those days. It is hard to understand now just what a difference that extra cash meant to many post-war families in those days. Of course, there were problems. You dare not send addled eggs. By that I mean where the embryo had started to form inside the egg. You were nearly always all right finding single eggs, in twos or threes, as the birds did not start to sit on the eggs until a full clutch of four had been laid. When there were four eggs you had to be careful. If three eggs had their pointed ends facing into the middle of the nest and the fourth was set across them, then they were probably all right. If all four pointed ends faced into the middle then the chances were that they were addled and quite unsuitable for eating. The way to test them was quite simple. A bowl was filled with cold water and an egg was held under water on the bottom of the basin, broad end downwards. When letting go, if the egg gently rolled on to its side then it was all right. On the other hand, if the egg jerked upwards, or worse still floated, then it most certainly was not all right to eat and had to be thrown away. Then the eggs had to be carefully wrapped in tissue paper and packed in egg boxes, which in turn had to be carefully wrapped in padding to ensure that they arrived in London unbroken. Occasionally, you could find a nest with less than four eggs that were all addled. This sometimes happened when some other local was trying to encourage a bird to continue laying eggs by removing one good egg every day. The trouble was that the nests were never easy to find and once the eggs had been taken the bird would not start to lay again for a couple of weeks. Finding the eggs was difficult and involved some extremely tedious routines of walking, or casting, up and down a field until all the ground had been covered. With two people this could be achieved much more effectively, and there was the added benefit of having someone to talk to. It was in this manner that I got to know Tom, my grandfather, really well and we always greatly enjoyed the others company. It was he who taught me to approach a field keeping out of sight as much as possible. In this manner it was sometimes possible to spot the birds near their nests and before they had the chance to run away from their nests, which was exactly what they did immediately they sensed any humans were around. They would zigzag for several yards, only flying into the air when they were well away from the nest and when they would then proceed to wheel around you with their distinctive plaintive cries. Some years later I tried to improve the odds of finding nests more quickly with the use of binoculars, as it was frequently important to get into and out of a field very quickly. Many landowners, unsurprisingly, resented anyone walking across their fields even if no damage was being done and you always had to be alert for horsemen or dogs. After the middle of April, the rules were strictly observed and no further eggs were taken. This ensured that the birds could still lay enough eggs to sustain the population. Unfortunately, farming changes soon saw a decline in lapwing numbers, which plummeted to an alarming low level. The use by farmers in the 1960s of DDT soon wiped out the majority of wildlife on the Marsh. These ‘guardians of the countryside’ would spray this toxic poison indiscriminately and then throw the empty drums into the dykes, where they poisoned every last creature in that habitat. One year in my late teens I was fortunate enough to witness some lapwing chicks hatching out of their eggs. Within 30 minutes these tiny balls of fluff were off the nest, just a scrape in a saucer sized hollow in the shingle ridge with a few wispy twigs as a base, and hiding in the longer grass away from the eyes of the many predators, such as the raptors and gulls. I have never seen, before or since, the emergence from an egg of such beautiful little creatures. Now, of course, things have changed. Lapwing numbers diminished to alarmingly low levels; the law has changed so that it is no longer legal to take the eggs at any time, but perhaps more importantly, my own attitude to wildlife has changed. I would now never dream of taking lapwing eggs, even though they are really delicious to eat (hard-boiled, with brown bread and butter, salt and pepper), but I would still take photographs should I ever be lucky enough to get close enough. August 2006:
Blog No.6 Ten days ago is a long time in the life of a wildlifer such as myself. Ten days ago I had no idea what I wanted to say in my monthly wildlife blog, as July can be a sparse time for anyone wanting to photograph birds. On the other hand, it can be a good time for insects and in the past few days my garden has been visited by many butterflies, moths, dragonflies and even a huge hummingbird hawkmoth (a wondrous experience at any time). I have also spent a few gloriously sunny days on the Gower Peninsula in Wales photographing many different species of caterpillars, dragonflies and Atlantic grey seals, but what I really want to do this month is sound off about a setback at Blunt’s Wood. There is a wonderful butterfly and moth meadow immediately to the south of Blunts Wood. It is one of the finest locations in mid-Sussex for these beautiful creatures, as well as holding great numbers of crickets. In the immediate vicinity are glow-worms and several different species of bats. July and early August is a good time to visit this meadow, when six-spot burnet moths gather by the dozen to mate and feed. Black and gold striped Malabar moth caterpillars munch away at the ragwort. On a hot summer afternoon it is hard to imagine a nicer spot. I visited the meadow on 17 July when the area was heaving with life. Having spent a few days away on the Gower Peninsula in Wales I did not manage to return until 24 July, when to my utter shock I found that the meadow had been mown and no moths remained. The ragwort had been pulled up and dumped in black plastic sacks, still crawling with large caterpillars. Now, I know that meadows need to be managed and that ragwort should never be fed to livestock, but could whoever authorised this act not have waited? No doubt there are those in the council who will tell us that they need to make a return from the hay, but I repeat, could they not have waited? Others I have spoken to agree that this meadow has been cut much earlier than in previous years and that this will possibly seriously affect the numbers of moths next year. Our national species of butterflies and moths are in serious decline and they need all the help they can get. It would have cost little to wait a short time until the Malabar moths appeared and in the meantime the caterpillars would have made a good job of demolishing the ragwort. It is true that one adjacent meadow has been left largely untouched but this is not the most favoured location and there are now far fewer burnet moths there. I would imagine that many would have perished when their prime location was mown. It is also true that some of the ragwort in this second meadow has colonies of caterpillars, but they are smaller than those still alive in the plastic bags. It is not too late to visit this marvellous facility, as there are still numerous species of butterflies abounding in the hedgerows and if you are lucky you will also see green woodpeckers and buzzards. Dragonflies of Sussex and the Gower – recent field trip reports to Pulborough Wild Brooks and the Gower Peninsula One of my prime aims is to explain where it is possible to photograph wildlife, preferably at close quarters. Although my main preference is to photograph birds, there are times in the year when I devote more time to insects and other aspects of the animal world. July is a good example. Here in mid-Sussex this is not a good time to be out and about photographing birds and when there is such a wealth of insect life abounding in the area it seems a shame not to concentrate on them instead. I hope you have already read my rant about the decimation of meadow habitat at Blunt’s Wood, near Haywards Heath. How anyone could cut the feeding and breeding ground of what is one of the area’s finest locations for butterflies at the very peak of the breeding cycle, all to recoup a small amount of cash for the hay produced, is incomprehensible. Whoever was responsible only had to wait another week to ten days. That’s all! Let me turn, however, to more cheerful matters. These days I travel over to Pulborough Wild Brooks quite frequently, as one of my daughters lives in the village. In the winter we enjoy barn owls at dusk hunting all around us. There is an RSPB reserve just up the road, where many species can be viewed, albeit not always at very close quarters. Just a fortnight ago we walked a circular loop across the brooks and were amazed at the incredible numbers of damselflies and dragonflies, or to be more precise demoiselles. We came to Wickford Bridge, where we were immediately aware of a score or so dark blue bodied dragonflies with black-banded wings – banded demoiselles. I lowered myself onto a concrete ledge by the riverside using a rope conveniently tied to an upright and became spellbound as these ethereal creatures settled all around me. Unfortunately, the family wanted to move on: me, I could have remained there all day! The whole area at this time of the year abounds with several species of butterflies and smaller damselflies, but getting close enough to photograph them is the trick. With patience it is possible and a good macro lens also helps enormously… A few days later we were off to the Gower Peninsula in Wales for a few days. This is another great location for wildlife: Atlantic grey seals on Worms Head, keeled skimmers just off the main ridge, more damsel and dragonflies at Broad Pool and great, close encounters with birds and marbled white butterflies on the cliff top reserve at the Mumbles (what a great place to stay for a few days). There is a great reserve and walk at Whiteford Sands, where we had good, close views of raptors and on the beach at Port Eynon were several interesting birds. What looked like an enormous greenfinch with an ashen head quickly flew off and thwarted all our attempts at identification. Our friends were camping on the cliff edge at Three Cliffs Bay, a truly stunning location, especially since the sun shone from daybreak to nightfall. Here we were treated to very close views of a vapourer moth caterpillar, such a small stunner! Perhaps the highlight was a tramp to Worm’s Head at low tide, where there was a super abundance of small breeding colonies of pipits, larks, linnets, chats and others. We met several fishermen who were cursing their bad luck, as a dozen of the large Atlantic grey seals were hanging around their best fishing location. Well, all I can say is that what is bad luck for some is good luck for others and we basked in the sunshine, calling down from the cliffs to the seals, which obliged by returning our attention. Back on dry land and further along the cliffs were many wheatears with young, ravens flew overhead cronking away, but the choughs and auks had gone. You can’t have it all. Back at the pub we watched as several locals dashed off to rescue some idiots who had been cut off at the head by the incoming tide. Despite warnings, we had seen these people crossing the difficult causeway in flip-flops shortly before the tide had turned. Some think they always know best! There was another chap carrying a young child on his shoulders. He too wore only flip-flops and was walking around the pools on the causeway. Now, we wore proper walking boots and this causeway is extremely uneven and treacherous underfoot and it would have only taken a small slip for him to stumble with disastrous consequences. I wanted to tell you about seeing dragonflies on the Gower, but seem to have got sidetracked. I had walked up onto the main ridge on the Gower – marvellous views both sides and we could see for miles. Coming downhill towards Hayes Wood we came across a small fresh water spring, the whole area abounding with life and here we saw upwards of a score of keeled skimmers and at least a couple of females. The noise these males made as they charged straight at their competitors was astounding and it was a great surprise that many did not seriously damage themselves. The colour of these male dragonflies was a startling sky-blue, that of the females a little drab by comparison. On the other side of the ridge, towards the east, is Broad Pool, a location full of dragon and smaller damselflies, but the brisk wind caused me problems with my photography. I managed to grab a few reasonable images, but spent the rest of the time watching some young dabchicks diving, as they moved further away from us. September 2006: Blog No.7 Here I am professing an interest in wildlife and yet how ignorant can I be? Until a few short weeks ago I was blissfully unaware of a magnificent local nature reserve in Burgess Hill. It is called Bedelands Farm Local Nature Reserve and it is a mere four miles from where I live. Perhaps I hear you say that it is so small that it can be easily overlooked. Not a bit of it. It covers 80 acres. Difficult to miss something that size I tell myself. It is also stuffed full of butterflies, dragonflies, moths and birds, many incredibly tame. In fact, I have never seen jays so tame in my whole life! So, I was incredibly glad to have stumbled across a reference to this reserve when tooling around the Internet a while back. I quickly discovered that there are periodic bird surveys and, from early spring until the autumn a weekly butterfly count and this I quickly joined. David Pyle leads it and I have been learning a great deal from him in the few short weeks I have joined up with his group. I have been simply amazed at the hundreds of butterflies that abound in this exciting reserve. Then there have been many different species of dragonflies and I have had exceptionally close views of common darters and migrant hawkers. In fact the hawkers, both males and females, were within inches of my face and I gazed at them in awe for over half an hour until they tired of me and went off searching for their tea. If that wasn’t good enough, the very next day saw me within inches of the darters, helpfully perched up on the top of some brambles. I had seen these darters before, but they had always been in the air and moving far too fast for positive identification, so this was a remarkable opportunity to get some good digital images. Unfortunately, there is a downside. Like so many nature reserves these days, it seems to be used more by dog walkers than people interested in the wildlife and the amount of dog excrement is a disgrace. I don’t blame those who manage this location, because it is so difficult to police, but I do blame all those dog owners who simply do not bother to clean up after their pets. I watched the other day as two women, multi-dogged, allowed their animals to foul the area. When I politely pointed out what the animals had done I was treated to foul-mouthed abuse and accused of not being an animal lover! This brings me on to updating you on my Blunt’s Wood story. I have been pleasantly surprised at the number of people who read my letter in the local paper and who agree with me. I even received a phone call the other evening from the chairperson of the Friends of Blunt’s Wood, who agreed that the meadow had indeed been mown too early. So, perhaps next year will be different. Unfortunately, in the meantime, several travellers gained access to the area and although they were only there about a week they have left the most dreadful amount of rubbish littering the hedgerows and ponds and it is now down to the council to clear all this mess up. All at the expense of the local council tax payers, of course. I have talked to some who feel that travellers do little harm. I have responded by saying that they should now walk across the area and see how much lavatory paper now litters several meadows and how much human excrement there is and to see the destruction to many of the trees and hedgerows. On a brighter note, August has been a great month for butterflies, moths and dragonflies. My own garden has been full of them, the star being a hummingbird hawk moth which comes for its supper every evening between 7 and 8. Last night, during light rain, it was supping nectar from the white blooms of centranthus, which are protected from the elements by an over-hanging balcony. Until then, I had assumed that this species did not fly in such weather. Other evenings it feeds on the mauve flowers of the verbena bonariensis, or the purple flowered buddleia. So, my planting master plan already seems to be paying dividends. We have also enjoyed hedgehogs and the first little owl to visit us in several years. The gatekeeper butterflies, with the exception of one really tatty specimen, have gone. The recent rain will not have helped, but this is the time of year when they all disappear. On the other hand, the pyraustas are still well in evidence whenever the sun comes out and there are plenty of moths coming indoors every night. Dungeness always throws up something worthwhile on every visit. The first week of August was no exception and a walk to the boardwalk around the new hide on the old ARC site, now managed by the RSPB, proved to be a magical experience, even in the broiling heat of midday. There were dozens of dragonflies, some ovipositing in the small ponds, and many peacock and painted lady butterflies, the latter migrants from the continent. A week ago I did my first ever butterfly twitch. A Camberwell Beauty had been reported at the RSPB reserve at Pulborough Brooks and it was a real delight for the fleetingly short time I saw it, before it 'bombed' off elsewhere for an hour or so. Three days later I returned hoping to grab some photo opportunities, but it had not been seen again since I had seen it. So, I left, only to later learn that it had turned up again a mere 15 minutes later. Drat! I will try again this coming weekend. Postscript: Friday 25 August The meadows have now all been cut and despite excellent weather butterfly numbers are well down, although we enjoyed good views of several speckled woods and a low perching purple hairstreak. On the other hand, there were good numbers of dragonflies (mostly the conspicuous red male common darters) and a moth, thought to be an orange swift. Saturday 26 August I again drove over to Pulborough Brooks RSPB Reserve to see if the Camberwell Beauty was showing. I was doomed to disappointment, but an elephant hawkmoth caterpillar (green variety) was a surprise bonus. I have seen the brown variety in my own garden, feeding off the many fuschsias I grow, but here this one was feeding off rosebay willow herb. Sunday 27 August The hummingbird hawkmoth continues to visit our garden and has been seen twice today, the last time at 8 pm when it was almost dark. It really does seem to enjoy its supper here. What a great delight this is to my wife and myself. Last year we had several painted lasy butterflies nectaring off the white flowered centranthus in June. This year they did not show, but I still deadheaded the centranthus to ensure a second flush of blooms, which are now just coming to a peak. I remarked to David on the butterfly walk last Friday that we had not seen any and so when two arrived in the front garden this weekend I spent an enjoyable hour or so photographing them. They quickly got used to my presence and I was able to get in very close with my new macro lens. What a joy this has been to me this summer! October 2006:
Blog No.8 My new love affair with Bedelands continued throughout
September. Although the great number of gatekeeper butterflies disappeared
as predicted early in the month, smaller numbers of dragonflies and
butterflies lasted well, enjoying the Indian summer and the still
plentiful food supplies. Whilst the numbers of hawkers declined, darter
populations increased and the numbers of comma and speckled wood butterflies
increased as the month progressed. Then the other day a buzzard, three
hobbies, a kestrel, a sparrowhawk and (exceptionally) a red kite (from
no more than 40 yards) all turned up in the space of little more than
half an hour. That’s not bad by any standards these days! One of the problems with dragonfly ID is to get close enough to see the markings on the first two segments of the abdomen. Digital photography really comes into its own in this respect, but I still kicked myself the other day when I only produced images of a hawker from the side. When I got home I kicked myself because I was unable to ID it. That will teach me! I have spent some time at Malling Down, on the outskirts of Lewes, photographing the small blue butterflies there, mainly chalkhill and Adonis blues at this time of year. This really is an inspiring reserve and a great location for birds and butterflies. It shouldn’t be too long before the ring ouzels appear on their return migration to the south and I hope to be waiting there in the hope of grabbing some good images. A really strange thing happened on my last visit. There
I was strolling along one of the lower tracks when I came across two
young squirrels in the middle of the path. Naturally, I bent down to
photograph them, but the next moment they were both running directly
towards me and made repeated, determined attempts to clamber up my trousers,
despite me warding them off as gently as I could with my monopod. Now,
I have never known this to happen before. I have always been used to
squirrels running away from me and up the nearest tree. Even in St James’
Park in London where they are fed so much by the tourists they do not
do this. Having beaten an undignified retreat, and fallen over backwards
when my boot became entangled in some brambles, I eventually managed
to move out of their comfort zone. My own garden continues to attract a daily visit from a hummingbird hawkmoth and I have been blessed with visits from painted lady and red admiral butterflies, all coming in to nectar off the white blooms of the centranthus, an immensely attractive perennial standby. Immediately the first blooms fade I have religiously deadheaded them, to be rewarded with continuous flowers right through the summer and now into the autumn. The much-loved flowers of the golden oregano are now past and likewise the buddleia. Next year I am determined to deadhead the spent flowers in the hope of prolonging their flowering period, and as a result attracting even more butterflies to the garden. There have been several firsts for our garden this year - a hornet paid us a visit the other day, much to the consternation of a red admiral and a small copper butterfly, both of which were seen off in very short order. There has been no sign, however, of the elephant hawk moth caterpillars we saw last year. The small copper butterflies are new to the garden this year, as are five crickets on our front lawn. During the heat of our summer, I rarely cut the grass and so let it grow longer than usual and this may have attracted them, but where on earth did they come from? I know they can fly, but the nearest open fields are still five to ten minutes walk away. Mind you, we have also had a few meadow brown butterflies in the garden too, and these can only have come from the fields. All this I find greatly encouraging, as it means that I must be growing many plants attractive to these species and this gives hope for next year. A tiny garden pond measuring about two foot by three has now been replaced by one measuring 10 foot by eleven and I am now busy planning the plants that I want to plant around the edges. This pond, on past experience, will attract a colony of common newts (peaking this year in excess of two dozen), frogs and toads, as well as the occasional dragonfly. I am already excited by this latest project and eagerly await seeing what wildlife will be attracted to the garden next year. I have immensely enjoyed my last two months studying butterflies and dragonflies. One of the first things I have done is to join Butterfly Conservation, which has a very active, and friendly, local Sussex branch. I now monitor the daily sightings on their website and recently dashed off to Southwater Country Park for only my second butterfly twitch. This location seems to be really well managed and there was still plenty of fleabane on which many species were still feeding. Common and Adonis blues were there, three clouded yellows (coming in very close to me but not settling) and a fine female specimen of a brown hairstreak. Regrettably, she did not settle long enough for me to capture a good image, but I was able to get close enough to ID this beautiful creature. Just down the A24, the other side of Horsham, lies Warnham Nature Reserve and these browns had been seen there recently laying eggs on the sloes, which are bearing such good crops of berries this year. These two locations are really great places to see birds and insects and I was told that Warnham possibly harbours more species of dragonflies than any other location in the county, although on the day I was there they were impossible to approach closely. This is a great location with some excellent habitats, such as the huge mill pond and woods, where we saw our first ever active hornets nest, whilst nearby there was also a wild bees’ nest as well. What I really liked about Warnham was the fact that dogs are not allowed and even at Southwater, they have to be kept on a lead during the summer months. So, unlike Bedelands, you do not see animals being encouraged to chase after the wildlife and these two locations were clear of dog mess. This brings me back to something that happened the other day at Bedelands. Two ladies approached me, both with dogs, one of which immediately jumped up. There was no word of apology and all I got were suspicious, if not downright apprehensive, glances and a demand to know where my own dog was. Now, as I have said before, I really am a true animal lover. Not just a dog lover, not merely a cat lover, but a lover of all wildlife. I have met this question before and I still find it utterly baffling why anyone should find it strange for a chap to be on his own in a wild place studying the wildlife. I explained that I did not have a dog and that the clue for my presence there was in the title – Bedelands Farm Local Nature Reserve. They did not get it! They scurried away, no doubt to later tell their husbands about this strange man they had seen taking photographs of blackberry bushes! Minutes later I watched as another dog walker allowed her pet to foul the track. She obviously had no intention of dealing with it and so I politely suggested that she should pick it up and dispose of it somewhere else. I really should know better by now, because all I got was the usual mouthful of abuse. This did not surprise me in the slightest. The whole area is badly contaminated with dog poo. Messages were recently posted on stakes around the reserve, but they did not last a week before being torn down. So, perhaps you can now better understand my feelings when I said that thankfully dogs are not allowed at Warnham. I sometimes feel that many of our best reserves have been taken over by professional dog walkers. This can be all right when there is a permanent warden, or ranger, on duty and who will insist that all dog excrement is removed, but many local reserves just do not have the luxury of such a person. There is also another reason. These reserves are really not that well known. As I said last month, Bedelands is a good case in point. It covers a huge area, but there are great numbers of wildlife lovers who are not aware that it is there. That is such a shame, as it is a really great place to see and photograph wildlife. I have already made my New Year’s resolution and am going to conduct a regular butterfly count next year. Having blasted off in the local press about the poor management of one of our local, important butterfly and moth breeding areas, this is the least I feel I can do to raise local awareness and to help monitor the numbers of what we are all being told are steadily diminishing numbers of moths and butterflies. So, I am hopeful that there will be even better images next year to look forwards to. Interestingly, my letter has provoked only positive responses and there have been a surprising number of people who have stopped me in the street to voice their support for what I said. November 2006:
Blog No.9 As I have aged I find there are certain routines I follow at about the same time of the year. I am not conscious of doing this – it just seems to happen, as though an invisible thread keeps drawing me back to the area where I grew up. One such routine is visiting my step-mother and taking her for a fish and chip lunch at The Pilot at Dungeness. It was here on the Romney Marsh, at Littlestone-on-sea, that I was born nearly 65 years ago and Greatstone-on-sea where I spent my formative years. Both locations had been named by a great-grandfather who is buried in the ancient churchyard at New Romney and where the ‘authorities’ have seen fit to remove the great standing cross originally erected in his memory. “Health and safety”, I was told when I asked who was responsible for this act of local vandalism. Looking back I lived a charmed life. There were few boys of my age and none that lived within a couple of miles, or so. I spent much time exploring the marsh between Littlestone and Dungeness and, in those days, I was the only person who did so on a regular basis. Walking across those vast shingle banks built up my leg muscles, which no doubt contributed to my enjoyment of cycle racing, which I took up semi-seriously after I left home. My route to the Marsh these days rarely varies: the drive to New Romney via Rye and then Camber towards Lydd to check out the gravel pits at Scotney, then on for lunch of skate and chips and a pint of bitter shandy at The Pilot at Dungeness for fish and chips, followed by a tour around the old lighthouse area, the gravel pits on the Lydd road and Denge Marsh to see what birds are about. Oh, and make no mistake about it, this area is a wonderful wildlife location. Dungeness is unique. It boasts the largest area of shingle ridges in the world and a micro-climate all of its own, supporting a staggering diversity of flora and fauna. Its location close to the French coast means that it is a great place to see the spring and autumn migrations and there is always something of interest, no matter what part of the year you visit. Sunday 8th October found me once again enjoying the great fish and chips at the Pilot pub, although it was a beggar getting there, as great stretches of the coast road were being dug up for the installation of mains drainage and I had to follow irritating diversions. Leaving the girls to finish their meal, I wandered outside and trudged across the shingle towards the sea. I slung my camera bag over my shoulders, but did not get a camera out. At first there seemed to be nothing of interest: a few fishermen strung out along the high tide line, a couple of immature gulls loitering around offshore, but then a moment of instant magic. Two little terns drifted along the edge of the high water mark intent on fishing – and there was so much food around for them, they completely ignored me as they hovered just feet away from where I stood spellbound. It is rare to be able to get so close to these beautiful birds in the wild. Slowly they drifted on and around the point, no doubt heading back towards their breeding grounds the other side of Rye. Having decided that I had missed one of the greatest moments to photograph terns I removed my camera from my bag and fitted my largest telephoto lens. Not a moment too soon - several common terns appeared in a line, fishing the same stretch as the little terns a few minutes earlier, but this time these terns did not carry on flying around the point. After a hundred yards or so, they peeled off and swung round in an arc taking them a quarter of a mile to the east, where they began to patrol the same stretch again. They kept this up for half an hour and I simply stood and photographed them at each pass enthralled that they came so close to me without seemingly being bothered by my presence. There was a very high tide. I stood on the shingle ridge with the sea almost lapping my feet and I scanned the tide-line with my binoculars. At first there seemed to be no life at all, but a little patience soon overturned that idea when a dark smudge about a quarter of a mile away turned out to be a largish gang of great black-backed gulls – great chunky birds with real attitude. Then I picked up further groups of birds: oystercatchers, knots, sanderlings and the odd wagtail. Uncharacteristically, I started to march in their direction. Believe me, it is not easy to move fast when walking across these stones, but I was aware that the girls had emerged from the pub and would want to be moving on. Too late! I disturbed a large flock of turnstones lurking on the shingle, but they didn’t move far and I was able to get in close to photograph them. Then everything started to move: the black-backs felt I had got too close and decided to move out onto the water. Then the knots, sanderlings and turnstones kicked off and flew around in great arcs. What a great experience it is to get this close to good-sized flocks of waders at this time of the year. The RSPB reserve at Dungeness is the oldest in the country and I still remember it as a young boy. There is now an excellent new hide at the far end of the reserve looking out over an area of Denge Marsh, but my favourite is the recently established area that was once an active ARC crushing site. This has now been handed over to the RSPB and there is a bird blind and a hide. I prefer to turn right and head towards the hide, where there is an outstanding area of boardwalk always with something of interest to see. Earlier in the year it had been butterflies, this time it was dozens of common darters, well in excess of 200 and from the hide an excellent variety of birds. Unfortunately, the resident tree sparrows in the car park stayed under cover. Out on the edge of the army firing ranges on Denge Marsh we were rewarded with close views of nine red-legged partridges feeding up close to the road. They, of course, immediately moved away when I got out of the car trying to get closer to photograph them. So, a sample of what enjoyment is possible in this area - great wildlife and some good opportunities to get in close to photograph it. My personal preference is to go there during the week, as it is becoming alarmingly popular at weekends and there were more people there this visit than I have ever seen before… The Sparrows and other impressions of St Petersburg A vast and beautiful city of palaces, of water and of gold; great historical museums; a massive river; boat rides; endless streets as straight as an arrow; traffic fast approaching gridlock proportions; bridges; great statues; golden domes, spires and museums; an old fort; 300 years of history; a dour people, the elderly almost always with glum faces; at times bitterly cold; the greatest pie shop in the world (Stolle near the Church on Spilled Blood); undrinkable water polluted with heavy metals and horrible bugs; pollution from the great towers that provide heat to every house in the city; beautiful slim girls who have not yet caught the obesity disease of their western counterparts; great flocks of sparrows; vast numbers of men in uniforms with flat-topped caps. Had this been a wildlife trip it would have been an unmitigated disaster. My initial research yielded little on wildlife and after my arrival the reason was quite clear. No-one I met had the slightest interest. Period! This I find depressing, but perhaps unsurprising for city dwellers in a place where it can become extremely cold in winter, when temperatures fall to well below minus 30 centigrade and when the daylight hours are a mere five! My impression is that St Petersburg is reasonably affluent. It is expensive for tourists; less so for locals who pay less. They are, as everywhere else in the world, obsessed with their motor cars. With even more car manufacturing companies about to open factories in the area, it will not be long before total gridlock happens. Urgent action is needed immediately. So, what of the birdlife? There are hooded crows, great tits, jackdaws, black-headed and common gulls and some black-backed gulls, but none of the northern species I had hoped to see. On the other hand, there were hundreds of house sparrows, just the way it was in London when I was young; great flocks of these essentially endearing birds were everywhere. So, for those who suggest that car pollution is to blame for the demise of sparrows in London, then they should think again. St Petersburg is possibly even more heavily polluted than London. On the river and canals and some of the lakes in the parks were good numbers of mallards, with a few diving ducks and, of course, the inevitable feral pigeons. Two hundred kilometres away in Novgorod we saw green woodpeckers, nuthatches and a fleeting view of an eagle, but it was too far away to id. So, I took myself off to the zoo, as I had heard that there were Siberian tigers and the zoo is famous for breeding more polar bears than anywhere else in captivity. Unfortunately, the zoo is unspeakably depressing, much the way so many of ours were a few years ago. There is little money to support this place and the general view is that it would be better to redevelop the valuable site on which it is located. If the place cannot be cleaned up and modernised, then that may not be such a bad idea. Don’t get me wrong. I do realise that without captive breeding programmes many species would be extinct, but I was still left pondering if that might not be such a calamity, rather than survive in the squalid conditions here. To see so many stressed and neurotic creatures is not an easy experience to live with: cattle egrets and pelicans in very poor condition, which obviously should have been flying free many hundreds of miles to the south, pathetically small cages housing reindeer, bears and others with so little room for them to exercise. There is a relatively new enclosure for one Siberian tiger, but when one realises just how large its territory would be if it was free it is enough to make one weep… On the other hand, in the wild they are still being hunted to extinction! There is little that is pure and wholesome here; dirt is everywhere; polar bear excrement so plainly in evidence and a huge tick festoons the eye of a lioness. In many ways I now wish that I had not visited the place, but then I would have missed seeing the tigers, the polar bears and the many truly glorious eagles. My fondest memories of St Petersburg will be the sparrows and the many great palaces. Then there were the amazing pies, both savoury and sweet, at Stolle. I have drunk water straight from mountain-tops on Fijian islands and possibly the finest water of all in Wester Ross, in Scotland, but here the water is too polluted, even after having been boiled for ten minutes! Would I go again? Oh yes, if only to visit the many sites I missed on this trip. December 2006:
Blog No.10 Not a lot has happened in the past month on the wildlife front; I have been far too busy researching a new computer specification and this has taken up an inordinate amount of my time. As I wrote a few months back, I upgraded to a new digital camera; one that takes excellent images, but also one that produces relatively huge initial files and herein lies the rub. Whilst I process these larger files in exactly the same way as before, they have slowed down my existing computer to such a degree that when optimising them it is like watching paint dry and this becomes exceedingly boring. So, perhaps you should all be warned that when considering the purchase of yet another digital mega-pixel camera, be prepared to pay out even more hard-earned cash in either upgrading, or purchasing a new computer! All this has got me thinking about green issues and the environment. I consider myself to be well above average when dealing with these issues and yet, am I really as good as I think? I was drawn to an excellent article in The Times recently when John Humphrys wrote about his childhood and how ‘green’ his parents were, not by virtue, but out of necessity. They had never flown in an aeroplane and did not own a car, using instead the bus or train and the very occasional taxi instead. They didn’t shop in out-of-town supermarkets, eat fancy fruit out of season and had never eaten a strawberry in January, or a kiwi fruit or mange-tout at any time of the year. Instead they grew most of their own vegetables and whatever food they bought was from local shops. They did not have to find room for countless recycling bins in their kitchen because there was virtually nothing to put in them. They used a shopping bag, as there was no such thing as a plastic bag and milk was delivered daily to their door in bottles, which were collected when empty. Every scrap of vegetable waste was composted and there was no kitchen waste, simply because no food was wasted whatsoever and they owned neither a fridge nor a deep-freezer. They economised by turning off the light when not in a room and there was no central heating. John goes on to say that mostly they only bought what they absolutely needed: spending and wasting go together. It is this last comment that really got me thinking. I could have added to his list. When I was young we had no telephone and no television. Yes, read that again please. We had neither telephone nor television. Unlike John’s parents we did have bicycles and when we didn’t use them, we walked! Food was cooked from fresh and in season every day. We were well nourished, fit and lean and we didn’t have the money to binge drink the way so many do now. So, what are my own green credentials? I have never owned a mobile phone. I drive less than 8000 miles a year. I put out less rubbish for the dustmen than anyone else I know and I am obsessive about recycling and the reuse of all plastic bags until they literally fall apart. I still turn out lights as I leave a room and I have fitted low energy light bulbs. These are unattractive, but throw out every bit as much light as the old kind, using significantly less energy. I spend more time listening to the radio than I do watching television. I still have an old fashioned larder in my house capable of keeping food fresh for significant periods of time, but I do have a fridge and a deep-freezer, into which I load all the surplus summer fruits I grow and into which is loaded certain foods prepared in bulk, such as sustaining soups and purees. I visit a supermarket weekly to mostly buy non-food items, preferring to walk into the town every day to buy my meat, vegetables and fruit fresh from my local greengrocer from whom I get a far superior service to any that a supermarket can provide. Have you ever tried buying fruit from a supermarket only to discover that you cannot east it for several days until it has ‘matured’? I never overfill the kettle when boiling water for tea, or coffee. I do not throw any food out. Period! I prefer to walk as much as possible, but have to admit that there are times when I use my car too much. The trouble is I will never go back to the days when I had no washing machine, no dishwasher and no computer. There, we have reached the issue that worries me most! I have bought a succession of digital cameras over the past five years and am about to buy my third computer. How green is that… That is the problem for me. I really love my wildlife and the majority of that enjoyment comes from travelling to near and far-flung places to indulge my passion. I carry with me equipment that has consumed huge amounts of energy to produce and although I try to limit my use of a car, I still tremendously enjoy the freedom that all forms of travel give me. I also have to seriously consider replacing my now aged boiler with something far more efficient. Mind you, I really do question the motives of our government when jumping on the global warming bandwagon. I am cynical enough to see this as just yet another tax gathering exercise. Nothing we do is going to alter the fact that the USA, China and India hold the future of the planet in their hands and if these countries don’t grasp the nettle, then nothing we do will have any impact at all. So, so we really want to lead the world on this issue, to the detriment of all our own people? This is what we have to face. I think I already know what most people are going to say… January 2007:
Blog No.11 Posting this on the last day of January, I realise that I almost missed my deadline but a belated happy, and healthy, new year to everyone. I have been having a nightmare of a time. A new computer was purchased last December with huge amounts of RAM to deal with the increasingly large image files I now produce. All this went well and I am delighted with the new set-up, but I had to spend several days trying to find out why I could not connect to the Internet. To cut a long story short, it was the Bullguard Firewall software and the problem eventually went away. That is not to say that my old Norton software would not have played up, as I also had terrible problems with that last year. Then I set about redesigning this web site, as I was aware that having photo galleries accessed through the main galleries, as well as through the archives section, could only ever lead to confusion. I have also tried very hard to set my home page to fit completely onto even a fairly small screen to overcome the need for scrolling, although it has been impossible to do this for the other pages. I hope it works. Guess what! When I tried to upload my new web site, it crashed. Although I could access the Internet, I could not access the FTP Host server. So, after three days and eliminating potential problems one by one, it all came down to that blessed firewall again. How I just love those 'help' lines. One of them cost 50p a minute. The only thing that sort of help does is to swell the coffers of those trying to offer it in the first place. Am I being cynical, or do charges like that encourage those people to keep you on the line as long as possible? It has been a very stressful three days and in the end I worked it out for myself! I have created a series of wildlife greetings cards/notelets. These were tested out at the recent annual conference of the SOS (Sussex Ornithological Society) where the response was encouraging. A total of 62 were sold raising £25 for the Society's general fund. I do not intend to make a single penny from the sale of any of my cards. In future, all sale proceeds will be shared equally between the SOS and Macmillan Nurses and the cost of materials and printing will be my further donation to these charities. So, if you would like some cards/notelets, I can create these from any of the images on this web site. Please also note that I can also create these cards in black-and-white and with pastel colours added back to the black-and-white images. Take a look at the Cards section to see what I mean. Next month's blog is also going to be late. I am off to Kenya on a safari and hope that I can share my images when I get back. I am very excited at the prospect! February 2007:
Blog No.12 I had travelled to East Africa in the expectation of seeing many of its wonderful animals and birds, but nothing had prepared me for the super-abundance of wildlife, the truly atrocious roads (the worst experienced anywhere in the world) and the wonderful weather in the highlands, as we criss-crossed the equator. Mind you, the bad roads do perhaps serve a good purpose. If they were better far more people would be visiting the national reserves and this would undoubtedly have an adverse impact on the wildlife. Many Kenyans are in fact lobbying politicians to improve the roads and with an election soon pending…. Initially, I had expected that of the hundreds of tourists pouring into the country, many would share an interest in wildlife. Oh! How simple minded of me! How naïve! The majority simply headed straight for the equatorial beaches to bask under a scorching sun, suffer in the high humidity, or for long periods of the day to shelter in the shade out of the intense sunshine. They spend the day eating and drinking as much as possible to get their value for money in the many ‘all-inclusive’ hotels. Now, Kenya is a world-class location for animal and birdlife, and yet I met very few people who were interested in the spectacular birdlife in this world-class birding location and where they are more approachable than almost anywhere else I have travelled. The safari drivers were a good case in point. I didn’t meet one who had any real interest in his country’s avifauna. Whilst they could be very knowledgeable when it came to animals, the indifference they showed to the birds was puzzling. Did they have a pulse! How can anyone not stop in amazement when secretary birds, immensely beautiful grey-crowned cranes, eagles and many other really large birds approach to within a few paces, sometimes so close I was unable to focus my camera? Some drivers I spoke to even suggested that the millions of flamingos at Lake Nakuru were the ‘greater’ species, whereas in reality they were the ‘lesser’. This is the single most awesome bird spectacular in the world. How wrong can anyone be? So much is taken for granted, but unless the environment is carefully managed and visitor numbers in the reserves strictly enforced, more will disappear forever within the next 50 years. Such attitudes really do bother me. What hope is there for the planet’s wildlife if so many people just don’t care a fig? It is the same at home. There are so few people I meet these days who have any interest in nature. I just watch their eyes glaze over when I tell them what I do. Unchecked population growth with its attendant problem of destruction to the environment is possibly the greatest global threat. Forget about global warming, the fundamental problem is that there are already too many people on this planet and unless someone can get a grip on this issue, then the world as we know it is doomed. Darwin had it right in the mid-1800s, when he warned that unless something was done then there would be only standing room left for humans in the 21st century! Our itinerary took us to Samburu, Treetops, Lake Nakuru, Lake Naivasha and Keekerok Lodge in the Masai Mara. The driver stopped en route to allow me to buy several kilos of dried beans for my camera beanbag, an essential that paid for itself many times over. There is one big problem for photographers travelling with five other companions. Movement is inevitable, as some change position to get a better view of the game and blurred shots are the result. At the end of the trip our driver graciously accepted the beans and I suspect there were enough to keep him, his two wives and five children in food for a week! I would love to return and stay longer at both the lakes, to enjoy the 2m+ flamingos, surely the premier birding experience on the whole planet. Our game drive at Nakuru was woefully short and we could not possibly do justice to the wealth of wildlife there. At Naivasha, with the help of Nicholas, a local naturalist, we saw 85 species of birds in a little over two hours. Just after sunrise he walked just four of us through his local patch before breakfast and by 9 am we were on a boat with him, drifting around the flat-calm lake, bathed in early morning sunshine. It was sheer bliss! We drifted close to many animals and even closer to the birds. Here there is a greater concentration of fishing eagles than anywhere else in the world and we studied them from near point blank range. Whilst goliath herons and white pelicans looked on from nearby shallows, giraffes stuck their heads out of the trees and hippos popped up their heads from a few yards away. The only other place where it was possible to walk with a local birder was at Samburu, where top-man Jacob treated us to an all too short hour’s walk around the grounds of the lodge. We were the only two people who used his services that day and this perhaps sums up the all too depressing attitude the majority of visitors have. He showed us numerous local specialities, to be seen nowhere else in the whole of Africa, whilst just a stone’s throw away across the Ewaso Ngiro River there lurked leopard, reticulated giraffe and Somali ostrich. Baboons and black-faced vervet monkeys live in the gardens and pearl-spotted owlets perch low in the branches of trees surrounding our living accommodation, whilst in the evenings 20 huge Nile crocodiles come onto the banks to be fed. Every location has its own speciality and offers a unique experience. The Masai Mara with its huge herds of game was superb, even if, on the last afternoon, we had to make a run for it to avoid a fast-approaching storm, and one that might well have seen us bogged down for the night surrounded by large predators. I will never forget the Mara. One moment I was sat in the van minding my own business, the next frantically trying to remove a huge locust, which was crawling up my leg. I felt a slight tickle on my leg and brushed it; then again a moment later and again as something brushed against my knee. It was then that I decided there was something rather unpleasant going on and I grabbed a handful of trouser as whatever it was reached my pants. I tore off my belt with my free hand and dropped my trousers, at which stage our driver decided that it was perhaps time to stop the van and have a good laugh! My wife grabbed the locust in her hand, this creature sticking out both sides of her fist, and threw it out of the window, where it was immediately squashed by a passing van (the poor thing). I am lucky to be married to a girl who is not afraid of such creatures! On our first full day at Samburu, we came late in the day on four cheetah cubs and their mother. A very large group of elephants, with numerous babies, including what looked like twins, was making its way back from the river. The presence of the cheetahs seriously spooked the female elephants and the mother cheetah deliberately drew them away from her cubs. They on the other hand were hemmed in between the main herd and the massed vans allowing them no direct means of escape and for some time everyone watched with concern as they slunk this way and that through the long grass, uncertain what to do without their mother there to guide them, or where to go. All, however, was well and we caught up with the group again the very next morning, although once again the presence of too may vans seriously hampered the mother cheetah from bringing down anything to eat. Unfortunately, we did experience some bad behaviour. East of the Mara River we had to suffer hordes of vans all jockeying for position to see the animals. Whereas the majority of drivers were extremely well disciplined, there were instance of cowboy style tactics to get people as close as possible to the big game. The occupants could be seen standing on the roofs, all straining for position, as a lone cheetah cowered in the long grass. We ordered our van driver away and sought other wildlife, successfully. On another occasion, what looked like a private 4WD was being driven so recklessly towards some parked safari vans, that it scattered game all over the place. Later we were pleased to see that what looked like the same vehicle had skidded off the track and was seeking help from the rangers to get it going again. On the other hand, west of the Mara River, there were only five other vans when we watched a group of six cheetahs for over an hour and a half and the experience there on our last day was far more wholesome and enjoyable. Should more tourists be allowed into the parks one can only imagine the detrimental effect this will have on the wildlife. For people as passionately interested in all aspects of wildlife as my wife and I are, this trip has fully exceeded all expectations. We have experienced what we have only ever seen on the TV before, in particular the cheetah mother with five cubs, all about six months old. They walked directly towards our van, then splitting and walking past on both sides; all manner of other game, both large and small and mostly viewed from point blank range. Large groups of elephants with their babies allowed us, when in Samburu, to approach to within a few feet of them, only one broken-tusker male showing any inclination to see us off his patch. They are, however, causing serious damage to the local environment and it may become necessary to cull some of these beautiful creatures. Birds have popped up every time we turn our heads, over 230 species and we weren’t even really trying, of which 126 were lifers – we were after all here mainly for the animals. Number 1300 on our big list was a martial eagle: number 1400 a grey-crowned crane and we are now heading towards the 1500 mark. It does not get much better than that! Near disaster was averted on the last day of the safari. My portable hard disk was full. This had not been a problem last year in Sri Lanka, but the D200 produces significantly larger images. I now have two 4GB memory cards, but this now left me with only one. In the end this was not a problem, but it is something for me to reconsider on my next trip. And so on to Malindi, more atrocious roads, the largest four-poster beds imaginable, sea views and a great divan on the balcony, where I could stretch out full length and slumber away the afternoon heat and humidity enveloped in a cooling breeze. Whilst the weather in the highlands is warm during the day and deliciously cool at night with little or no humidity, on the coast temperatures are much higher and with greatly increased humidity there were times when I felt very uncomfortable, especially when away from the seashore. This area is a very important one for birdlife and there are internationally important locations, such as the Sokoke Forest area, the Sabaki River mouth and the Watamu coastline, the Gede Forest Ruins area, Mida Creek with its hundreds of crab plovers and a marine conservation area, where we thoroughly enjoyed a morning snorkelling the coral reef. There are very specific endemic birds that can only be seen in this area. Mind you, it is not cheap to get a taxi to these places and you may well need to enter into some really hard bargaining. We were told that had we used a tuktuk the police would have arrested both the driver and ourselves. I am not sure if the taxi driver who told us that was merely trying to encourage us to only use him, but we are glad that we did, as the journeys were much longer than we had first thought and it was a safer means of transport. Mida Creek is great. Set up as a community project, it boasts a boardwalk and bird hide overlooking a huge lagoon, which is heaving with birds, including the fairly elusive greater flamingos. The boardwalk is actually a rope suspension bridge spanning some 400 yards of mangrove swamp. It was then on to the Kipepeo Project Butterfly Farm at Gede, where we witnessed several large butterflies hatching out and drying their wings. We had signed the visitor’s books in both places and had noticed that there are depressingly few visitors. Why is it that such a tiny percentage of holidaymakers support these community projects? Hotel development is destroying some of the beaches where the turtles nest and rich Italians are somehow being allowed to build huge mansions far too close to the sea, much to the disgust of some local Kenyans. Where have we come across these problems before! The writing is on the wall. We enjoyed an interesting conversation with a teacher and turtle conservationist late one afternoon on the beach. They were gloomy about the long-term prospects for nesting turtles. As in so many other locations around the world, so few people care. Early morning is a good time to see many of the shorebirds, especially when the tide goes out and it is possible to walk a fair distance out towards the reefs. On the other hand, it is better to walk a little to the north and away from the hotels, when you may be overwhelmed with the numbers of shorebirds, both large and small. It is true that you have to be careful about the beach touts, but they are not really that great a problem and for a few shillings will show you some of the better birding locations you may otherwise miss. In New Zealand in 2002 I fell in love with albatrosses. Forget about the big 5 – I fell in love with the cheetahs! This trip was one of the most awesome experiences of my life and one that considerably exceeded all expectations. Just driving in and then out of the Great Rift Valley is an unforgettable experience. Would I go again? Undoubtedly yes to the lakes of Nakuru and Naivasha, otherwise I would want to break new ground and perhaps visit Tanzania during the wildebeest migration, but I am glad that I ignored the advice of all those who said that Tanzania was a better place to go. March
2007: Blog No.13 There was this chap on the radio the other day suggesting that once we get over a certain age, life holds out much less and our future prospects are non-existent. According to him we need to decide exactly what we want from whatever remains of our lives. I like to call myself a wildlifer; in other words I am interested in all aspects of flora and fauna. Darwin had a name for people like me: he called us natural philosophers. As I age I find myself contemplating the problems surrounding conservation, preservation and environmental issues and how I can make a difference. Does that make me a good environmentalist? Probably not, but I do try to give something back. For example, as from the first week of April I am carrying out a weekly butterfly transect across Blunts Wood & Paige’s Meadows Local Nature Reserve. This involves a 3+km circular walk across ten old meadows and through some ancient woodland. On sunny days such as we have been enjoying recently it is a glorious experience. The walk is divided into 15 separate portions, and I record every butterfly and moth that I can identify. Inevitably there are some insects that escape me, but my powers of identification are quickly improving. Naturally, I take my camera and my binoculars with me, which greatly help. So, I hear you ask, what is the point of all this. Well, all the data I gather will be fed into a number of different county and national databases, which monitor butterfly and moth population trends. The government now accepts butterflies and moths as key identifiers in biodiversity trends and so gaining a greater understanding of population movements is important. My data will not mean much in this first year, but as my records grow they will assume greater significance. I find it reassuring that plentiful butterfly and moth populations indicate a buoyant environment. As the year progresses I hope to invite other people in the neighbourhood to join in these weekly walks and to bring their children with them. If we want to succeed in saving our local habitats and wildlife for future generations then we need to start with the children. Most adults are a lost cause, but more on that later. So, this is going to be quite a commitment, as I have to do this every week until the end of September, but it is one small way I can give something back. I am also monitoring moth populations in my garden. A gift of a moth trap last Christmas was initially very disappointing but then on Monday 16 April the nights warmed up for three days and moth life started to explode all around me. Moths are, however, far more numerous than butterflies and most are extremely difficult to identify. Still, I aim to persevere! So far I have had great views of a Hebrew character, a brimstone moth, brindled pugs, white-spotted pugs, an angle shades and a beautiful maidens blush. Now, there is a name to conjure with. These sightings will also be fed into the county biodiversity records. Finally, I am also involved twice a year in what is called the breeding bird survey. This involves walking two 1km transects about ½km apart. The only problem is that there is a long walk to get to the starting point! It can sometimes feel quite tedious for someone like me, who rarely gets out of bed before nine, but this morning found me awake at six and out of the house twenty minutes later and at the start of the first transect by 6.40. What on earth was I doing, I asked myself? That is until I looked around me, taking in the misty fields as I gazed southwards towards the downs, taking in a large dog fox nosing his way across the fields. As the sun broke through what had seemed a chore became a real delight as I counted up the staggering number of male birds singing their hearts out to attract mates and to mark out their territories. What was even better, were the numbers of female birds taking it all in. Never before have I timed it so well. This was the best morning ever and promises a great breeding season for the nuthatches, blackcaps, green woodpeckers, blackbirds, thrushes, robins, wrens, ducks, dabchicks, moorhens, coots and a glorious pair of treecreepers. I have to repeat the experience in a month’s time. Yawn, what a chore! Once again, building up a picture of breeding bird populations is important for our conservation scientists and is just another small way I can give something back. I said earlier that most adults are a lost cause. I have many friends who show a genuine interest in my wildlife travels, but those who have no interest in wildlife whatsoever vastly outnumber them. Take the other day, for example. I had travelled up to London to drink with some old banking colleagues. Somehow we got onto the subject of global warming and two of those present immediately declared that they simply did not believe the world’s scientists and that what is happening is simply down to natural causes. Now, two of these chaps were once highly intelligent people. How they can dismiss the causes of global warming puzzles me, except of course they do not want their comfortable lifestyles disturbed in any way. They are more concerned these days about the size of their gas guzzling cars, as though these in some ways make up for the size of their dicks. I asked them what they thought about food miles. They were definitely against food being flown half way around the world and suggested that people should not be eating beans from Kenya. I asked them if they had ever been to Kenya. No, of course they hadn’t. They seemed to like the idea of more expensive air travel, much as they do of more expensive petrol, as that will mean fewer people will fly and fewer will drive on our increasingly clogged-up roads. I suggested that if people no longer fly to countries such as Kenya, which have largely built their economies on tourism, there is a real danger that the people living there will return to tribalism and their economies will collapse. Not only that, but should tourists no longer visit the national parks, this would have a catastrophic adverse impact on the wildlife. Can anyone really imagine a world worth living in if there are no cheetahs? Mind you, they are not alone in thinking this way. There are too many people who want us all to give up all forms of air travel, irrespective of what that would do to countless, so-called, third-world counties. Do we really want to penalise them in this way? There has to be another way. So few realise that the world’s greatest problem is one of over-population, and it is this that is the root cause of all our present day problems. My suggestion fell on deaf ears. My companions were Catholics and the idea of birth control simply will not do! April/May 2007: Blog No.14 Last year I posted two images of a neighbour’s orchid garden (see Sussex Nature - My Sussex Garden). Jennie had nurtured her green-winged orchids for decades to such an extent that her garden was possibly the finest location to see them in the whole of Sussex, if not the South of England. That they should be found in an urban garden was even more remarkable. Then she sadly died and I feared the worst. Unfortunately, my fears were only too real. A week ago, on returning from our Saturday morning shopping, Toni and I heard the sound of a lawnmower. We looked at each other aghast and moments later our worst fears were confirmed. There was this ‘gardener’ mowing the lawn and scything down the dozens (if not hundreds) of orchids, still at their peak of perfection. I went over to the fence and attracted his attention, only to receive the surly response “they will be even better next year”. When I pointed out that this was not true and that they should have been allowed to die down and set seed before mowing the grass I received a further surly response, “I have been ordered to cut the grass and that is exactly what I am going to do”. He turned his back and continued his act of destruction. We thought that he must have been a jobbing gardener, but have since learnt that he lives in one of the flats. A week later and Toni and I still cannot understand why anyone should indulge in such a mindless act and those responsible should feel deeply ashamed. This has got me thinking again about the future of our wildlife heritage. There are several species that actually need man’s interference to survive. For example, many butterflies would not exist in England without human management of their habitats: for many orchids it is the same. On the other hand, there are even more species that will not exist at all if man is allowed to continue his wanton destruction of wildlife habitats. It is not global warming that bothers me so much as the uncontrolled growth in the world’s human population. To put it simply, there are far too many people on this planet. I am far from being the only person who feels deeply upset by this mindless destruction of so many really beautiful orchids. There are countless others around the town and from around the county who came to see them every year and they too will mourn this loss. When I travelled around the world four years ago I came across, for the first time, the sayings of Chief Seattle. Amongst the many things he said, the following remains true to this day. “If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves. The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life: he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. Contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste”. June 2007: Blog No.15 I have just started to read Robert MacFarlane’s book The Wild Places and it has taken me back to my youth on the Romney Marshes. Some people I know have suggested that I had a lonely childhood, living as I then did in a remote part of England. It is true that my nearest school chums lived a couple of miles away, but lonely? Not a bit of it! Whilst being basically a social chap, I am lucky that I have also always enjoyed my own company and so in those days I was happy to wander at will across the marshes. I learnt from a very early age to love wildlife and, despite an enforced lull in my interest during my productive working years, this has stayed with me to such an extent I think it now fair to say that wildlife is turning into something of an obsession. I have also enjoyed photography from a young age and my interest has blossomed with the advent of digital cameras, as now it has become far more affordable, albeit it has made me inclined to laziness. I can now take as many images as I wish with no fear of the cost. How well I remember my first insurance claim. In those days I had a Pentax SLR camera with a handheld light meter attached by a cord, which I kept around my neck. On the day in question I had just witnessed a whole family of grass snakes, all coiled up together on the bank of a dyke, one of the parents being simply huge – six feet in length at least. Many have since expressed their disbelief, but that was not the only time I saw grass snakes as long as that and indeed only recently witnessed another almost as long at Mill Hill LNR near Shoreham-by-sea. I digress. Finished with watching this marvellous family I decided to take a chance and jump across the dyke to save myself a fairly long walk to a bridge. I jumped and off flew my light meter, now separated from its cord. It plopped into the water. I did manage to retrieve it, but it never worked again and the insurance company paid out the grand sum of £18.00. They have never been cheap! These days my love for wildlife has returned with a vengeance and it is something about which I am passionate. Being basically a bird lover, I feel at times like Simon Barnes (who writes for The Times), who calls himself a bad bird watcher. There are countless others who profess to know how to identify every bird they see – they seem to think it is a slight on their manhood if they fail to do otherwise. I now learn that many were train spotters when young and perhaps this explains everything. I have a big list presently standing at 1410 (out of a potential total exceeding perhaps 10,000) and I know that there are plenty of birds I have seen but have never been able to identify. It helps, of course, to be able to take photos to later id in the comfort of my home, but when abroad in a rain forest this is not always possible. So, I love taking images of birds, but in England the opportunities to get close are sometimes few and far between. Locations such as Sri Lanka and Kenya are, of course, wonderful and there I am in my element, but scouting around England can at times be soul destroying and so I have diversified into the world of macro photography and this has led me to buying a macro lens and concentrating on butterflies, dragonflies and indeed almost anything else that moves. Doing so has meant that I have far greater opportunities to capture exciting images and I can now control my own local environment. I have built a larger pond in my back garden and introduced native plants into it, planted more herbs to attract butterflies, moths and other insects, paid greater attention to the nectar bearing plants in my garden and to more careful pruning techniques to ensure a longer flowering period of shrubs and flowers and, of course, I am making full use of the moth trap so lovingly built for me by my son-in-law as a Christmas present. Don’t think that I am giving up on birds. Far from it: I am off soon to the Farne Islands off the Northumberland coast and also to Lindisfarne, two of the finest birding locations in England and I am hoping to return with images of terns and puffins amongst everything else. What I find interesting is the number of extremely keen birders who are also turning their attention to butterflies and the like. Perhaps they too are looking for something more accessible on which to focus their attention. One thing I have quickly discovered. I am quickly tiring of taking just bog-standard photo id images. They fast become boring, even the most splendid creatures and I am now seeking to find other ways to add interest into my images. I hope that you will all see some difference as the year progresses. Mind you, this is not as easy as it seems. My subjects just do not seem to know how to stay still; there is always a wind creating unwanted movement, leading to less-sharp images. One answer is to use a tripod. That is all right so long as I have a perfectly stationary subject, but when chasing butterflies around a flower-rich meadow like those at Bedelands, then it is another matter. I have started to experiment with my tripod and with a wireless shutter release and with flash. I have also started to experiment with a beanbag. Well actually it is a rice bag, rice being so much cheaper than beans. At least I will never starve in the wild! My head is now full of how to improve depth of field whilst maintaining fast shutter speeds. It is all such a game. After the hottest April on record, May in Sussex has been largely wet and cold, but there have been days of pure joy in my own garden. I have already reported the large red damselfly that appeared in April. Actually, the word large is misleading for a creature little bigger than one of the monster tadpoles in my pond. Then a few days ago he returned, or so I thought. A few minutes later he was joined by a mating pair; ten minutes later by a second mating pair and then quickly by a third mating pair. I gladly dropped what I had been doing to devote a couple of hours photographing their mating contortions and the females ovipositing in the pond. Great! Does that mean I am going to get to see them hatching out next year? I really do hope so. That evening as I went out to check the moth trap I almost trod on a hedgehog outside the back door, and then came across its mate having a drink from the pond. The moth trap held a bumper crop of lovely creatures. This trap really has brought me endless pleasure. There are never large numbers of moths but there have been few nights when a new species hasn’t turned up and that has meant endless hours spent poring through my moth books trying to id them. The next day all seven damselflies returned and I had another delightful morning photographing them. How I wish I could bend more easily – it would have been good to get some really low angled shots of them, but I am happy with what I got. That afternoon we travelled to Park Corner Heath, a butterfly conservation reserve, where we saw 12 small pearl-bordered fritillary butterflies. They represent almost the entire population in Sussex and so are very rare and endangered. They were ‘flitty’ in the extreme, but with patience I at last managed to get some acceptable id shots. It was impossible to catch them doing anything out of the ordinary! That evening the rains returned with a vengeance and the damselflies have gone. They have done what they had to do. Now the rest is up to nature and their eggs avoiding the depredations of the newts and tadpoles. Our old tiny pond last year held over two-dozen common newts. I really don’t know where they came from, they simply appeared over-night and commenced to breed. That meant there were no tadpoles – they all got eaten. The new pond is larger and although many tadpoles have again been eaten, surviving tadpole numbers are good, and how they have grown! I have never seen any this large before and I now keenly await them developing into frogs, which of course will bring me further photo opportunities. I suspect their great size must have something to do with the food supply and I am left wondering if the native water plants and the fact that the pond was filled almost entirely from rain water saved in several butts at the back of my green house had anything to do with it. July 2007: Blog No 16 It has been a long-term desire of mine to visit the Farne Islands and Lindisfarne in Northumberland and in June 2007 my dream at last came true. I had always known that the Farnes were a great location to see birds and seals, but nothing had prepared me for the sheer scale of it all. There were tens of thousands of breeding birds, which included puffins, arctic terns, common terns, sandwich terns, guillemots, shags, razorbills, kittiwakes and eider ducks (or cuddies). I had pre-booked our day boat trip several weeks in advance and as luck would have it, the day we went turned out sunny with the sea a dead-flat calm. The previous fortnight the weather had been awful, and the week we were in the area was not good. Lucky, or what? Some people had told us that the birds would be so close that no telephoto lenses would be needed. Whilst this is true to a point, I am still glad that I took all my lenses with me, although a disaster was averted by the merest whisker when my tripod collapsed on Staple Island. My camera and biggest lens were only saved by a fluke, as the camera strap caught on the tripod and did not crash onto the ground! Fairburn Ings RSPB Reserve, Yorkshire The journey north from Sussex was expected to take some 6½ hours and I had hoped to take a break after some 3 hours. As things turned out, Toni saw a bird reserve in Yorkshire and suggested we make for there, as it would make a far nicer location to take a break. How right she was! There are few places in England where almost the first birds you see on leaving the car park are a flock of tree sparrows and things just got better and better. Having wandered around the trails adjacent to the visitor centre I came across some pools and these were simply heaving with dragonflies. Excellent images of broad-bodied and four-spotted chasers were obtained, although the emperor dragonflies were less obliging and did not settle. Still, what a really great way to spend a couple of hours. Bishop Middleham Quarry, south of Coxhoe, Co Durham I had done my homework before we left and wanted to visit this unique magnesium limestone habitat, where rare plants abound and, if you are lucky, the northern brown argus butterflies. In the event, it was very windy but I did get to see one, which posed quite nicely. This is a location firmly on my revisit list. Dunstan, Craster and the Dunstanburgh Castle coastline We had booked a small cottage in Dunstan, almost next door to the only pub cum hotel and a short walk from Craster and its fish smokery and charming, albeit foul-smelling, harbour where cuddy (eider duck) families congregated. The eiders nest on the Farne Islands and immediately the chicks hatch they set off for the mainland, where they can be seen strung out all along the coast in crèches. Mainly found in the many small harbours, they can be seen almost anywhere where there is some shelter for the chicks. There were also kittiwakes nesting on cliffs a mile along the coast at Cullernose Point, interdispersed with fulmars, guillemots and shags. The Farne Islands Make no mistake about it the Farne Islands are one of the finest, if not the finest, locations for getting really close to wildlife in England. A whole daytrip allows you, weather conditions permitting (and there are many days when the boats simply do not go out), to land on Staple Island and Inner Farne. Nothing had quite prepared me for the tens of thousands of breeding birds, or for that matter the aggressive nature of the arctic terns. Did I wear a hat? Yes, of course I did. Did the terns land on my head and try to skewer my brains? Yes, of course they did. Did they poop all over my hat? Yes, of course they did and I am likely to leave the stains there as a badge of honour to remind me of one of my greatest birding days out. Did I mind? No, of course I didn’t – the terns were great fun and only doing what comes naturally, defending their territories. Mind you, some of them really do nest ridiculously close to the paths. My only adverse comment is that I think too many people are allowed onto these islands on any one given day. They are, after all, the breeding grounds for countless tens of thousands of great looking seabirds. Lindisfarne On our third attempt at trying we eventually made it onto the island. The tide was against us the first time we visited the area some years ago and the weather on the second attempt. We had no desire to be cut off from the mainland for the day in the pouring rain. There are still those who ignore all the warnings about crossing at the wrong times and then have to be rescued from the rising tide, which indeed does rise very quickly. There is nothing quite like the sight of a 4-wheel drive with water nearly up to its roof! We did the obligatory visit to the castle, although there were no fulmars about that morning. Eider duck families were strung out all along the shore and the whole area echoed to the song of numerous species of birds. There is a good bird hide, well worth a visit, overlooking a good sized lake with numerous dabchicks, grebes and duck and patient swallows waiting for it to be vacated so that they could carry on with their nest building activities. One of the features of the whole area is the absolutely fresh fish available and whilst you will get chips with everything, they are the best you will eat, having been fried in lard. The afternoon saw us heading off to the other end of the
island, walking amongst vast carpets of northern marsh orchids, more
than you could shake a stick at. We also saw countless numbers of the
larvae of the garden tiger moth, called woolly bears, which are now
becoming so scarce in the South. Over the dunes, following the marker
posts, found us at the top of some cliffs at, or near, Keel Head and
here we stayed entranced by the fulmars. They had begun to nest, these
the smallest members of the albatross family, on ledges along the cliff,
whilst their partners glided the updrafts either at, or just below,
us. One of these birds became inquisitive and landed almost at my feet
and seemed to enjoy all the attention I gave it whilst making many memorable
images. Such beautiful birds: such a beautiful location! The River Tweed, Scottish Borders Wanting to visit Lindisfarne early in the week, we changed our minds when we got there. It was pouring with rain and we couldn’t even see the island. So, we motored on to Berwick-on-Tweed, a waste of time really, as there was nowhere to park and there were no obvious loos. On we went to the Chain Bridge Honey Farm, where we received the friendliest of welcomes and where we enjoyed a walk across the interesting bridge and along the riverbank. Here I saw and photographed my first ever mayflies, the evocatively named ephemera danica. Ephemeral most certainly, with its three-pronged tail, this dainty mayfly. On we drove along almost deserted roads to visit Cragside
National Trust, but we were doomed to disappointment as there were no
butterflies when the rain returned with a vengeance. Starting with Hauxley Nature Reserve in the north, there are a number of others in a short distance along this coast. They are all good places to visit and even spoonbills turned up for us. At Hauxley we watched a family of shelducks. A crow flew in making a first pass and off went the mother to see it off. All the crow did was to circle round again and grab one of the now unattended chicks. We were all quite shocked at the suddenness of it all. Nature in the raw! Bamburgh Castle You simply can’t visit this area without walking on the beach by the castle. For me the castle represents all there is to be said about this coastline and a more wonderful location is hard to imagine. There are also countless numbers of birds to occupy your time as you walk along the coast, but do wear your boots, as the going can be quite rough underfoot in places. Would we go again to the North-East? You bet we would. The people are as friendly as you will find anywhere in the country, the coastline is simply magnificent and the fish and chips the best you will ever eat. August 2007: Blog No
17 July has been an incredibly busy month for moths and butterflies. The weekly butterfly transect over Blunts Wood and Paiges Meadows LNR has continued, with numbers of butterflies exceeding 700. Unfortunately, the summer peak has now passed us by and numbers are declining rapidly as we approach the autumn. Everyone complains that numbers are well down on previous years. Last year the wild, flower-rich meadows were cut earlier than ever before, coinciding with the breeding frenzy of the daytime flying six-spot burnet moths. Whereas numbers in South Meadow and some of the adjoining meadows have previously been in the hundreds, this year they have never crept into double figures. What an indictment for those who manage this local nature reserve! As I said last year, those responsible should feel ashamed. Then we come to the daytime flying cinnabar moths. Like the six-spot burnets, these are handsome red moths with black spots. They lay their eggs on ragwort and the resulting caterpillars are really quite beautiful creatures, as can be seen from my photo galleries. Now, ragwort is notifiable under the Weeds Act and a landowner can be forced to remove it. It can kill cattle that eat it. Not that they will touch it when in flower, but the danger arises when it dies down and becomes mixed in with winter fodder. I don’t have any argument with that at all. What I do have is a problem with those who remove only some of the ragwort in the meadows. Let me explain. Last year ragwort was removed with cinnabar moth caterpillars crawling all over it. They were not shaken off the plants, but were stuffed in black plastic sacks and then disposed of. The same thing happened again this year. Now, the caterpillars are generally only found in one small area of a couple of the meadows and it is these plants that have been targeted by those intent on ragwort removal, leaving the ragwort with no caterpillars alone. How perverse is that? I have suggested that all they need to do is defer their actions for a couple of weeks until the caterpillars pupate and fall to the ground, but no-one wants to listen. Oh, and by the way, there are about another 80 species that depend on ragwort for survival, and so this indiscriminate removal adversely affects the biodiversity of this area. Unfortunately, there is another problem adversely affecting many of the nature reserves in the county. They are quickly becoming cesspits full of dog shit. Notices asking owners/dog-walkers to pick it up are torn down: a torrent of verbal abuse ensues if these people are admonished. One local Council organised an interesting experiment around Bedelands earlier in the year, when the piles of dog poo were sprayed with a luminous orange vegetable colouring in an attempt to highlight the problem, not that the dog walkers took any notice. I have had a rethink about how I set out some of my photo galleries. The numbers of moth species alone turning up in the moth trap in my back garden meant that I had to do something fast and so there are now a number of new galleries for butterflies, moths, dragonflies and other creepie crawlies. This has meant an incredible amount of work, but I am already reaping the benefits, as it is now much easier for me to add new images on a daily basis. A further benefit will be an accessible identification aid. Moths can be hard to identify. You only have to look at a number of different moth guides, for example, to become totally confused. I hope that my photo galleries will be a help to those mothing in their back gardens. As at the end of July I have recorded 80 species of moths in my garden, the best of which was the nationally scarce False Mocha. Not bad for a town garden. At first I was somewhat nonplussed to learn of the county’s big hitters, who managed to trap hundreds of moths at a time, with individual species running into the hundreds. The largest ‘catch’ I have had was 20, comprising 16 species, but when I look back and remember just how long it took me to identify them, then I am indeed very thankful that I don’t have a trap overflowing with moths! I started to set up my moth trap as an ancillary to my photo interests and I have learnt a great deal. I also realise that I still have a long way to go before I produce consistently good results. For example, I now pay a lot of attention to the quality of the light, to the direction of the light, to the background (as contrast is tremendously important) and to depth of field (dof). The last aspect can be troublesome when using a macro lens, as the dof can frequently be almost zero. So, I shoot a lot of images with minute changes in the orientation of my camera to the subject. Blurred images can be a problem. The trouble is that to get a fast shutter speed, you need to shoot at wide apertures (say, f2.8), but this gives you zero depth of field. As you close down the aperture (say to f/16), you get better dof but much slower shutter speeds and thus images lacking sharpness. The answer is, of course, to use a tripod, but that is easier said than done with subjects like moths that are constantly moving around, or vibrating their wings. On some occasions flash can work well, on others it does not. Some moths are very dark with beautiful intricate markings, but the end result on a computer screen can often disappoint. I shall continue to persevere! Butterflies have also been occupying my time, although I have dipped out on Purple Emperors this year. I did manage to get to see the Graylings up on the Downs, near the Long Man of Wilmington – a difficult species to photograph well, because of their habit of resting on patches of bare downland chalk, always very low down, often against the light and frequently at inconvenient angles. To walk on the Downs though is always a great experience and when this is combined with some good weather, it can be heavenly. Now I have only to track down a few Brown Fritillaries… Meerkats and Bat-eared Foxes in Sussex Meerkats and Bat-eared Foxes in Sussex? Yes, indeed there are and quite cute into the bargain, but what on earth are they doing here? After all, they are hardly endangered species and when a quirky environmental charity breeds them in Sussex for ‘educational purposes’ you really do have to ask why. Unfortunately, I did not get an acceptable answer, but the afternoon spent at their Open Day was hugely rewarding, the people running it interesting and enthusiastic and there was a most beautiful garden, Natterjack toads and rumours of plentiful butterflies. This has got me thinking about the environment again and I shall return to this subject again soon. September 2007: Blog No. 18 Trip Report: Dungeness 9 September 2007 It is not just that I was born in the area that draws me back to Dungeness; it is the exciting wildlife and unique location that still holds me spellbound. It is true that my interest in wildlife started on the Romney Marsh and in particular the wild expanse of shingle ridges stretching over an area encompassing Dungeness, Lade and Greatstone-on-sea. From a young age I was allowed to roam at will across what we called the stones and grew to know Dungeness really well, its flora, but particularly its fauna. The birds still come to this atmospheric corner of England, numbered at certain times of the year in hundreds, some species even in their thousands. My routine these days rarely alters: a drive over from my home in mid-Sussex, pick up my step-mother from her home in New Romney, then on to The Pilot for a fish and chip lunch. Only then am I allowed a bit of a wander. My first steps take me straight over the shingle from the pub to the sea. Then looking both ways along the shoreline I locate where the largest flocks of seabirds have settled: high tide is the best time, as the birds are forced up onto the land and mid-week even better, as there are far fewer people around and thus less chance of others prematurely spooking my quarry. A quick stalk and several images later I am heading off to the gravel pits on the Lydd road, now part of the enlarged RSPB Reserve. This new area now holds really good numbers of wintering birds and, of course, is an excellent place to see the autumn migration. New hides have been built, but more importantly a board walk into a marshy swamp where, if you time it right, you may see good numbers of butterflies and dragonflies. This time I got it exactly right, as I have never before seen so many dragonflies. After sating my appetite for common darters in all their different colour variations, I decided to revisit a small nature reserve the other side of New Romney, on the Dymchurch road. In my younger days, The Warren was where the town dump was situated and I never went there. Now it has been transformed into a gem of a reserve and, even better, those involved there are amongst the most enthusiastic lovers of wildlife you are likely to find anywhere. Once again there was a good variety of dragonflies, a shrew was disturbed from under a log, two grass snakes emerged from the long grass and finally a young fox came to look us over. That is not to say that there weren’t a lot of birds there, because there were. Nothing rare, mind you, but some really great close encounters with green woodpeckers and others. As we enter autumn and the numbers of butterflies diminish by the day, my thoughts have been forced to turn to more mundane matters, such as redecorating the outside of my house. This is a job I hate and I have long put it off, but the poor condition of the external walls now dictates some early action on my part. When I started on my butterfly transect last April there were those who expected me not to last the course (the butterfly ‘year’ runs from 1 April to 30 September), but with now only two weeks to go I have confounded these disbelievers. In fact, I have found it an immensely rewarding experience. Not only have I now logged the butterflies and moths for Blunts Wood & Paiges Meadows Local Nature Reserve, but I have also noted the birds, mammals and some of the flora and have thoroughly enjoyed my weekly exercise. The data I have gathered will be shared with interested parties on both a local and national level. There have been many exceptional butterfly experiences this year. Take, for example, the beautiful green hairstreak butterflies I photographed at Bedelands, the wonderfully beautiful, late and somewhat worn silver washed fritillary on my own ‘patch’, the grizzled and dingy skippers of Mill Hill, the graylings and silver-spotted skippers of Windover Hill, all the downland ‘blues’ in more locations than I can shake a stick at and the other fritillaries, the pearl-bordered and small pearl-bordered of East Sussex. That is not forgetting the small and large skippers, again on my own local patch, and some great images of many of the ‘whites’, mostly at Bedelands. Then there has been the added interest of the moth trap in my back garden, where I have logged up 98 species so far this year and should soon hopefully pass the 100 mark. There have been so many exceptionally beautiful moths, far too many to mention here, but I may return to this subject later in the year. Simon Barnes, wildlife journalist and naturalist I have admired Simon’s writings for a long time and feel that I have much in common with him. This feeling was recently reinforced when he spoke of the curse of specialisation, feeling that it is far better to be a generalist nature lover. He wrote a book called ‘How to be a Bad Birdwatcher’; yes, I can feel a real association with that concept. I have a real sympathy with County Recorders of birds, butterflies, moths and the like. Walking over the Downs recently I listened to a chap who thought he could tell the difference between the many female blue butterflies from a distance. He had locked horns with the group leader, a very knowledgeable chap from Kent, and just could not admit that what he had called a female Adonis blue was in fact a Brown Argus! I have seen letters written to magazines, such as that produced by the RSPB, where the author claims to have seen some rarity in his (oh yes, it is nearly always a bloke) back garden, only to have the record disallowed by a disbelieving County Recorder. It is very easy to fall into this trap. Take last week, for example. I had a good catch of moths in the trap. Most of the usual suspects and quite a large number of yellow underwings – large yellow, lesser yellow, lesser broad-bordered, a Svensonn’s Copper and three looking just like lunar yellows. Except that they weren’t lunar yellows: these are as rare as hen’s teeth in Sussex. You have to turn to the Waring’s book when you immediately read the lesser yellows are frequently misidentified as lunars. So what about the chap who then posted his moth catches on the Internet claiming that he had caught several lunar yellows. Will he accept the final judgement of the County Recorder? I do hope so, but suspect that there may be yet another disgruntled person who will end up believing that he was right and the recorder was wrong! I digress! Simon commented on the fact that most visitors to Africa don’t spare a glance for the wonderful birdlife, a personal observation I recorded earlier in the year. He feels deeply that we are losing the naturalists, in his words, the lovers of many things and obviously feels that the world is the poorer. I certainly consider myself to be a naturalist: a generalist. I am unable to walk through the countryside, by the seaside, or on the mountains without wanting to know more about the flora and fauna I come across, and even more importantly I want to capture it all as digital images. Mind you, there are some areas where we differ. I know I can be a bit scruffy at times, but have you seen those pictures of Simon in his flat hat, unshaven and looking distinctly dodgy? Still, I would like to meet him one of these days, preferably on a walk in the countryside. October 2007: Blog No. 19 Destruction or Preservation of Habitat It is not that often I find something good has happened in my neighbourhood, but when it does I feel it appropriate that I share it. Last year I was gnashing my already ground down teeth at the ridiculously early mowing of what is one of the best wild flower meadows in Mid-Sussex. I railed on about the butterflies and moths that had had their breeding season so severely curtailed and all those beautiful meadowland flowers that had not set seed. I wrote to the local paper and only received praise for highlighting this from people who stopped me in the street, the only criticism being that I had not been hard enough on the ‘guardians of the countryside’ who had perpetrated this act of ecological vandalism. I later learned that our local council had also been badly upset by this act; it had happened just hours before judges of the South-East in Bloom competition were to have visited the meadows to admire this wonderful habitat. Because of this I joined Butterfly Conservation and set up a weekly butterfly transect across the meadowlands, recording everything there was to see for the six-month period between April and September. After I had collated all my data and submitted it to the County recorder, I wrote a report for the chairman of the Friends of Blunts Wood and Paige’s Meadows Local Nature Reserve, a copy of which can be read below. I also decided to hand deliver a copy to a lady I know who works in our Town Hall, feeling that there was a good chance she would show it to other interested parties, and finally I wrote a shorter report to the local paper, although his has yet to be published. Within days the chairman of the Friends was in touch and later that day he stopped to talk to me as he passed my house. I explained my feelings about the removal of ragwort, or rather the reasons why some areas of the meadows could be cleared before others and bemoaned the fact that the two meadows with the greatest bio-diversity had not yet been mown. You can imagine then my delight when I today (October 15th) walked through the meadows and discovered that the mowing had been completed in the nick of time before the winter rains set in and make the whole operation impossible. It also appears that at least one of the meadows may come under threat of development; a local builder to whom the council owes money may have his eyes on some of the land. This is going to focus attention even more on this area and efforts will have to be renewed next year to fight off such a threat. Blunts Wood & Paige’s Meadows LNR Weekly Butterfly Transect 2007 Report Of the 24 species of butterfly recorded, no less than 21 were present in South Meadow. Interestingly, there were 18 species in North Meadow and 17 in the field leading from my end of Haywards Heath into the south end of the reserve and in Colt’s Foot Field. As might be expected Meadow Browns are the commonest butterflies, followed by Gatekeepers, Ringlets and the various Whites: Large, Small, Green-veined and Orange-tip. Then come the skippers, Small and Large, Small Coppers and the Blues, Common and Holly. Common Blues are normally very numerous but this has been a devastating year for them and numbers have plunged alarmingly. The extremely wet weather seems to have been the cause and the prospects for next year are not good. The oak trees have attracted Purple Hairstreaks and Marbled Whites have migrated off the Downs and up to three mating pairs have been seen, mainly in North Meadow. A sole European immigrant, a Clouded Yellow, was recorded, but most exciting of all were a White Admiral, seen on the north side of South Meadow, and a Silver-washed Fritillary far to the south end of the reserve; a large orange and black species and always thrilling to witness. My concerns about the early cutting of South Meadow last year seem to have been justified, although the non-cutting this year is puzzling and it is to be hoped that this will not adversely impact on the wonderful bio-diversity of this great meadow. Numbers of the once abundant Six-spot Burnet moths have crashed. Last year there were scores of them: this year they just made it into double figures. On the other hand, to the south of the reserve Narrow-bordered Five-spot Burnet moths have been recorded for the first time, albeit in very small numbers. Speckled Yellow, The Cinnabar, Mother Shipton, Burnet Companion, Adela Reaumurella (a tiny moth with incredibly long antennae), Brimstone and Yellow Shell have also been seen. The Cinnabar is a most striking black-and-white moth and was once more abundant on the reserve than at present. Their caterpillars, black and yellow striped, can be seen on ragwort at the top north end of Paige’s Barn Field, just below the gap leading from South Meadow. They are far less likely to be seen further down the slope. For the past two years at least, the ragwort at the northern edge of this field has been the first to be removed and the black plastic sacks have been alive with caterpillars. Now, please don’t get me wrong, ragwort is not the sort of thing farmers will tolerate, but we must face the fact that it does deserve its place in a bio-diverse friendly area such as this, especially as it is said to support many dozens of species. There seems to me to be a simple solution. Next year perhaps the helpers could start the ragwort removal further down the slope – only about a fortnight would have been needed the past two years for the caterpillars to have pupated and fallen off. On the other hand, if the caterpillars were to be shaken off the plants, they would trail off to another food source. The end result would be the welcome sight of many more of these delightful moths and a great asset to the reserve. South Meadow holds by far the greatest bio-diversity, but others are not far behind. Each meadow is different, the slopes face this way and that, some are better sheltered, the elevations differ and the respective microclimates often favour one insect more than others. This is certainly the case with the short-lived Ringlet butterflies, their preferences this year having been North Meadow and Ashurst Mead. I have not specifically recorded the other flora and fauna, except to notice that the area supports good numbers of orchids, present in every single meadow, is becoming richer in wild flowers and is a great place to see many birds - green and greater spotted woodpeckers, jays, buzzards, sparrowhawks and blackcaps. Perhaps the mowing of both South and North Meadows should be left until as late as possible, but has this been overlooked this year? NOTE: The thought has struck me how easy it is to overlook many of our butterflies and moths and it is possible that some may not be quite so rare as we think. Take the Ringlet butterflies, for example. They are not endangered, although many people might overlook them believing them to be Meadow Browns or Gatekeepers, with which they can be easily confused. This year I was lucky enough to find two hotspots that contained many more of this species than anywhere else. The particular microclimate in these two locations obviously favoured them, but it did make me realise that had I set out my weekly transect along different hedge-lines, then I would never have seen them. Since writing my report I have learned that next year the town will again be entering the South-East in Bloom competition, but unlike previous years it will be judged on many new factors, including local bio-diversity and so, perhaps, my report has been timely. My Favourite Birds - Albatrosses Five years ago I was lucky enough to travel the world for nearly six months studying endangered species. I saw my first albatrosses off Stewart Island, New Zealand, a raft of Shy Mollymawks, or to be more precise New Zealand White-capped Mollymawks, numbering over fifty, surrounding a fishing boat, where the owner was gutting his catch and tossing the offal overboard. Later I saw the ‘Royals’ at Tairora Head on the Otago Peninsular outside Dunedin, but it was at Kaikoura my dreams finally came true. The following is an extract from my book, “In the Footsteps of my Daughter” recording some of the events of that morning. ************************* Friday 6th December Hitomi is working her way around New Zealand. She is
tiny, totally manic and when she walks she sticks her bottom out and
shuffles along like pictures of little old Japanese ladies. Brent does
not enjoy her sitting next to him when he drives: she is prone, whenever
she sees a friend, to grabbing the wheel, winding down the window and
shouting out their name. She is a total scream. She cleans for Brent
and his wife and is extremely thorough. Brent’s philosophy is
simple. “If you want the cleaning done properly, give the job
to a woman: men do not care in the same way – they are wired up
differently”. I recall the words of Chief Seattle, who is supposed to have said, “Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves. The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life: he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. Contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste”. How well he would have understood the greed that drives
nations such as Japan and Spain to plunder international waters of fish
and how he would have abhorred the killing of so many magnificent creatures,
only to be left to rot in the water, or eaten by carrion. I particularly
dislike the way Japanese cut off shark fins, only to throw the bodies
back into the water. We will mourn the passing of these creatures and
live to regret allowing greedy people to wreak this terrible havoc. ************************* And now I will soon be off again, this time to see the Waved Albatrosses, which breed on the Galapagos Islands. I have, of course, been watching the TV programmes about these islands and one piece of misinformation I feel needs correcting. There is mention that once the young albatrosses fledge, they take to the air and don’t land again for four years, when they return to the Galapagos to breed. Now, that is simply not true. They are indeed clumsy on land and they do find it hard to take off from the sea, but should they come across any fisherman gutting his fish at sea, they will most certainly land on the water to feed on the offal. In the meantime, I just cannot wait… November 2007: Blog No. 20 Trip Report: Hawking Experience at Leeds Castle, near Maidstone, Kent What have Ossie, Bailey, Oscar, Darlene, Maggie and Brock all got in common? If I tell you they are an African Spotted Eagle Owl, a Eurasian Eagle Owl, a Barn Owl, a Red-legged Seriema, a Hooded Vulture and a Harris Hawk, you may begin to guess. There were also Peregrine Falcons, an Auger Buzzard and a Spectacled Owl. No, I have not been to the zoo. The simple answer is that, with the exception of Darlene the Seriema, they all flew to my wrist. I have enjoyed a hawking experience at Leeds Castle in Kent. When I say enjoyed, the word simply cannot do justice to this most incredible experience, and one featuring high on my ‘Top 100 Things To Do Before I Die’ list. It is, oh so, easy to understand how people can get hooked on this as a pastime and I have my lovely wife and two daughters to thank for arranging for me to spend the day at such close quarters to these unimaginably beautiful birds. It was my 65th birthday present from them, and one I will never forget. Each bird had its own different characteristics: Ossie would swoop low, almost at ground level, only rising onto my gloved hand at the last moment, when he was rewarded with a small titbit (part of a dead day-old chick). Bailey flew a bit higher, but still came straight for my gloved hand, confident in the knowledge that there he would find food. On the other hand, Oscar was far more independently minded and tired quite quickly of flying to hand. Instead he went exploring in the adjacent vineyard, but soon came back for some more food. Darlene was a different matter. She is not flown to hand and resembles more the Bush Thick-knees we saw patrolling the graves in Cairns cemetery, but oh boy, does she have attitude! She can run like a greyhound and jump like a kangaroo. This experience was soon followed by an encounter with Maggie, a hooded vulture. Two flaps, a long glide very low over the ground, then rising to hand level, when she shot out both legs in front of her like air-brakes and she was on my fist. Wow, those talons and beak coming at you head-high really are something else! We were not allowed to fly the Peregrine Falcons, but still had very close encounters indeed. Finally, we spent the afternoon in the woods flying Brock, a Harris Hawk. He would either chase after us on the ground, or fly ahead from branch to branch, occasionally allowing himself to become distracted by the odd moorhen, rabbit, or mouse, although on the day he was not successful in catching any of these. I almost forgot the Red Kite in one of the cages. Despite the black background, I did not use flash and feel that I managed to capture something of the truly dramatic nature of this impressive raptor. Would I go again? You bet I would, but I may have to save up a bit first. December 2007: Blog No. 21 Galapagos Islands and Ecuador Trip Report Despite reports of poor food and cabin service, and as we disliked the thought of spending time at Miami airport, we flew Iberia. This also gave us more legroom than those travelling with American Airlines and a full half-day more in Quito. Up bright and early later that morning we set off with our excellent guide Gloria, who showed us the main attractions of Quito, lunching high up over the city, where we had very close views of two American kestrels. Then in the evening she arranged an added experience for the group, dinner at the resplendent theatre restaurant. Not much else to report on the wildlife front, a fleeting glimpse of a hummingbird outside the hotel, several rufous-collared sparrows, some eared doves, an unidentified butterfly and the usual motley collection of feral pigeons you see the world over. Day 1: Quito to Baltra, South Plaza, Santa Cruz Our first day proper did not start well. The problem is this, Quito sits at an altitude of 3,000m and cloud can be a problem. So, having been ably shepherded through all the check-in procedures by Gloria, we endured the endless delays and chaos until our flight departed some two hours late. In the meantime the Cachelote had been wisely repositioned further round the coast so that we would not miss out too much on what was left of the day and, as we got off our bus, we met our first land iguana. We lost no time boarding, the anchor was up and we were away. We were immediately surrounded by magnificent frigatebirds, like something out of a horror movie, these piratical birds were quite prehistoric, swooping and hovering, almost within arms reach. Blue-footed boobies, noddies and brown pelicans were there in good numbers, whilst Elliot’s storm-petrels danced on the wave tops and red-billed tropicbirds with their long, long tails swooped around us and it was not long before we saw our first Galapagos shearwaters, coming in low over the wave-tops. The Cachelote is a charming sailing ship and Juan, our guide and mentor, could not do enough for us; Naturetrek has chosen well! Our 15-strong group included two Australians who had just joined us and we were all already getting on well. Our first stop was South Plaza, a larva island with little vegetation, a dry landing, and our way was immediately impeded by an alpha-male sea lion; he had to be persuaded to let us pass. All around us were land and sea iguanas, lava lizards, waders, the delightful swallow-tailed gulls and the small land-birds such as the yellow warblers and the ubiquitous ground finches, but all too soon we had to leave, heading into a stiff swell towards Puerto Ayora on Santa Cruz Island. Some amongst us fumbled for their seasickness pills, but it was not long before everyone found their sea legs. Day 2: Santa Cruz The harbour at Puerto Ayora was a buzz of activity. We were already adept at getting into and out of our life jackets and knew how to get on and off the pangas. A morning at the Research Station was simply not enough. I wanted longer photographing Lonesome George and the other giant tortoises and getting even closer to the finches. I had my doubts about George; the only time he showed any excitement was when his keeper arrived. Could it be that the old chap just thinks he is human? Returning via the fish market we were treated to close views of a lava gull and a great blue heron. The weather could have been kinder, but nothing was going to be allowed to get in the way of our enjoyment. The afternoon was spent amongst the clouds in the highlands, a different and unexpected experience, with collapsed calderas, ash piles, and a flash of brilliance when we saw our first vermillion flycatcher. An endemic barn owl roosted up in a cave and some had the briefest glimpse of a Galapagos rail before we moved on into the fields where numerous giant tortoises lounged about in the gathering gloom. White-cheeked pintails flew onto a small pond only a few feet away, completely unafraid of our group. What a day! What an experience! Day 3: Espanola Island We were setting the pattern for the rest of the trip: first on the islands in the morning, last off at night. Juan was ensuring we maximised every single moment we spent ashore, something sadly lacking with every other group we encountered. The morning was spent at Gardner Bay – sea lions by the score, lava lizards, sea iguanas, and a myriad of birds right down to point blank range; then a snorkel around Gardner Island. I was the only person not to don a wetsuit and the water was simply freezing. A lot of good fish and sea lions, but I had to give up after half an hour. Around the coast at Punta Suarez, there started for me one of the most blissful times I have ever experienced. Two Galapagos hawks perched up by the lighthouse treated us with disdain, but I really didn’t know where to look first: great piles of sea iguanas, all jumbled up together, mating blue-footed boobies, nazca boobies, swallow-tailed gulls and, further around the coast, the waved albatrosses. The camera went into over-drive! The albatrosses were a pure delight; approaching to within a few feet the young regarded us with interest, whilst in the background older birds were practicing mating rituals. We seemed to have timed things just right, as they will all depart by the end of December. Lurking just offshore we could see huge Pacific green turtles but as the light went I was forced away from this magical place and reluctantly clambered aboard the panga, but not before capturing the two hawks again, perched up side by side. These locations just seem to get better and better every day. Day 4: Floreana Island A wet landing at Point Cormorant and we were off to the flamingo lagoon where there were distant views of these delightful birds. A short walk took us to a bay where frigatebirds perched up in scrubby trees. Although all the wildlife is so tame, with no fear of man, some of the visitors were behaving very badly. There were stingrays close to the shore and mating giant green turtles in the surf. Unlike the other wildlife, these actually moved away from the shore when another group approached too closely. Juan was good about these things and told us not to get too close so as not to stress out the turtles. Other guides seemed incapable of controlling their charges, mostly young Americans, who defied all advice and approached far too closely to the wildlife. Such a great shame! Whilst some of the others had a snorkel through the Devil’s Crown, in somewhat warmer water I was told, I decided on a panga ride around the coast, drifting in amongst huge rafts of shearwaters and noddies. How strange it was to be almost on the equator and yet the weather was so cool and the sea so cold. After lunch a brief visit to Post Office Bay, where we wrote a card and looked through those already there awaiting collection, but there were none that we could easily deliver when we got home. That afternoon the sails were set and with the motor on we forged through the waves until, that is, a Bryde’s (breedah) whale was sighted. Great excitement, but it soon made off at speed leaving us trailing in its wake. We got our first sight of Franklin’s gulls and Galapagos petrels. After dinner we sat with Juan for our routine summation of what had been seen during the day and by 8.30 we were all in our bunks getting some well-earned sleep. Day 5: Isabela Island After weaving through the lava reefs, we made a dry landing at Punta Moreno on Isabela and for the first time saw male magnificent frigatebirds with their red throat pouches fully extended, pointing their heads to the skies in the hope of attracting females to mate with. Nearby brown pelicans were already doing just that. Sally lightfoot crabs had been such a delightful feature of our every stop; their red, gold and pale blue colouration provided a welcome contrast to the sea iguanas basking on the black lava, which sparkled as they scurried this way and that. Moving away inland we were immediately struck by the hellish interior. At first sight there seemed to be nothing but huge lava flows, but then we noticed sparse bits of vegetation – a small clump of lava cactus here, some Darwin’s aster there, but it was the brackish lagoons that came as such a surprise. These small oases provided an immediate contrast of bright green and the wildlife abounded. Here frigatebirds washed away the salt water on their wings, ducks swam through the reed-beds and there were dainty black-necked stilts. Then, we came face to face with flamingos; never in my lifetime had I been so close and I settled down to sit on the needle sharp lava – pointing my shadow directly at these birds and getting as low as possible, my camera going back into over-drive. On the way back to the panga we watched from above as white-tipped reef sharks patrolled below us, and giant sea turtles quietly paddled around. A flightless cormorant posed beautifully and Juan indulged in a spot of rock pooling, where we were shown unusual urchins, sea stars, sea cucumbers, a sea hare and many other wonderful creatures. Yesterday we saw a Bryde’s whale: today I was the
first to spot a Sei whale, quite close. There was also an unexpected
pleasure – several albatrosses on the sea, one being harassed
by a frigatebird and hordes of boobies dive-bombing a shoal of fish.
After we had relocated to Elizabeth Bay, the pangas were paddled into
the mangroves where we saw large cacti and many turtles, with a sea
lion pretending to be a new species – a tree lion! Entering a
narrow entrance we became aware that three penguins were immediately
alongside, so close we could have touched them and too close to focus
the camera. On the way back to the Cachelote, and in an increasingly
choppy sea, we circumnavigated a guano-covered islet where we saw at
least 100 more penguins, of a total Galapagos population of 1500, and
large populations of seabirds and huge sea iguanas. We had a wet landing at Urbina Bay, which was only the third place we saw land iguanas. There, a giant female tortoise blocked the path and we stopped to admire it, allowing her time to move on unstressed. Unfortunately, the sea was too rough, and probably far too cold, to snorkel and so we sailed on to Fernandina island. Another stunning location, another dry landing - one moment
all we could see covering the lava flows were sally lightfoot crabs,
then a movement, then another, and suddenly we were aware of huge numbers
of sea iguanas and some of the largest we had seen to date. We had to
keep to the designated paths more than ever, that is until we were forced
to detour around another pile of iguanas. Day 7: James Island and Bartolome Island We were fast running out of time on this trip but new sensations continued to flood in. After a wet landing at Puerto Egas, we enjoyed another wonderful coast walk. The usual sea lions were there in good numbers, but we also saw American oystercatchers with young, lava herons, a yellow-crowned night-heron in a crevice and a stunning Galapagos hawk allowed itself to be photographed from just a few feet away. All too soon we were back on board and heading on again. At first we thought we had seen dolphins leaping out of the water, but as we got closer we saw giant manta rays, up to 5m across, somersaulting out of the sea in an attempt to rid themselves of sea lice. These had such a WOW factor: we were left speechless! Then, to ensure nobody got bored, we came alongside a feeding frenzy. Up to 10 huge Galapagos sharks had corralled a shoal of fish and this had attracted pelicans, frigatebirds and other assorted seabirds from miles around. I cursed myself for having the wrong lens on my camera, but I need not have worried, as we drifted right up to this frenzy. Tearing ourselves away, we headed on to Bartolome, possibly the best-known island, as it features on so many postcards. We had one last snorkel, the best of all. When I saw two penguins and swam towards them, they in turn swam towards me and came to within a few inches of my facemask. Then, for the next few minutes, they cavorted all around me as I watched them utterly spellbound. A spot of beachcombing revealed a ghost crab, which had somehow captured a fish larger than itself. It dragged the fish in a wide arc around us to a quieter part of the beach, where it dug a new hole, down which it disappeared with its prize. We ended the day climbing the boardwalk to the highest point of the island, returning to the panga just as the sun set. Day 8: Santa Cruz Island and return to Baltra One last panga ride saw us being paddled around Black Turtle Cove where we came across large numbers of giant green turtles and white and black-tipped reef sharks waking up and moving away from their night quarters just under the banks of the lagoon. Yet more spotted rays and cuckoo, brown noddy and blue-footed booby were all around us. Then suddenly it was all over and, unlike the way out, everything ran smoothly and on time. We were back in the polluted city that is modern-day Quito and suddenly many of us suffered motion sickness after so long on a boat. I bent down and the room went all over the place. That evening Juan, who had escorted us back, took us to a Greek restaurant with panoramic views of the city and we enjoyed the views, that is, until the cloud came down and obscured it all. Day 9: Antisana Volcano and the Paramo A unique experience today took us high up into the Andes. The Paramo starts at about 3,500m, but we went higher, reaching 4,000m. Fortunately, most of us had become acclimatised to the altitude and few suffered from breathing problems. The clouds cleared and we had a magnificent view of the snow-capped Antisana Volcano. The vegetation rarely grows higher than a few inches, but in many places the flora forms a wonderfully spongy mat of tiny plants. This specialised habitat was beautiful, but so were the birds living at that altitude. We saw not only six species of raptor, but Andean specialists such as silvery grebe, Andean ruddy duck, black-faced ibis, Andean gull and the Ecuadorian hillstar. No other hummingbird can live at such a high altitude. Regrettably no condor turned up for us – you cannot have everything. Day 10: Coca and Sacha Lodge, Amazonian rainforest Early low cloud meant Quito airport was again closed and the usual chaos reigned. Eventually our short flight down to Coca departed and soon we were speeding along the Coca and Napo Rivers. It was distressing to see the ravages of the oil industry, as was the amount of plastic littering this remote area. Squirrel; monkeys greeted our arrival and dugout canoes took us across a black lake to the lodge. We had been promised a night walk through the rainforest after dinner and this proved to be a great success. Huge forest frogs lurked under one of the water pumps, giant stick insects feebly wobbled in the flashlight and a tawny-bellied screech-owl gave us excellent views before flying off. Spectacled owls were calling in the background, two species of tarantula spiders emerged from their hiding places and a simply huge forest owl butterfly rested on a tree-trunk. Day 11 and 12: Sacha Lodge, Amazonian rainforest An avid American birder asked me how I was enjoying the birds and seemed shocked by my reply that I did not consider tiny, almost unidentifiable, dots in a scope as an acceptable ‘tick’ and that there were many other locations in the world providing a better birding experience. Somehow I had expected more in a country that boasted so many birds and I was disappointed at how few chances existed to get close enough to photograph birds. On the other hand, the rest of the forest life was exceptional and butterflies were a real delight, although perversely our guide could not name them. We enjoyed the popular attractions at the lodge, the kapok tree lookout, the canopy walk and the butterfly house, reputed to be the largest in Ecuador, but again no one could identify the butterflies that swarmed all around us. The photo opportunities were really good and it was wonderful to have spare time during the hottest part of the day to do our own thing and I returned to the butterflies time and again. One of the speciality birds around the lake was the hoatzin, or stinky turkey as it is also called, a reference to its foul-tasting meat. It proved very difficult to photograph well and a lot of patience was needed, but at last one popped its head out from behind the foliage for a few fleeting moments and I was waiting. Mission accomplished! Getting caught out in a canoe in an equatorial storm was an interesting experience, but I was glad I took a large plastic sack in which to put all my camera gear. After an hour my hands had turned all wrinkly, as though I had been soaking in a bath for that time and we were all simply soaked to the skin. We had been told we were very lucky to have seen six species of monkey, as most people only get to see three or less. Undoubtedly, we had also been lucky to have had great bulldog fishing bats all around us on our last night out in the swamps and to see many long-nosed fruit eating bats flitting amongst the fireflies. Did we take malaria tablets, I hear you ask? Yes we did, but only for this last part of the trip, mainly because we were spending this time below 1,500m. Did we see many hummingbirds - in a word no, not many, and then only fleetingly. Surprisingly, there were no nectar feeders, but all the other forest life more than made up for this. Days 13 and 14: back to Quito We made our way back to Quito, bang in the middle of fiesta time, and oh boy, do they know how to party! We dined at Mama Clorinda, a great atmosphere, good local food and live Andean pipe music and then joined in all the celebrations. Our final morning was spent in the Botanical Gardens, where at last we got to see plenty of hummingbirds and at really close quarters. Now, that really was a great way in which to end such a marvellous trip. January 2008: Blog No. 22 I really enjoy the writings of Simon Barnes, ace sports reporter and wildlifer, and so it came as no great surprise when Wendy and Joe, my younger daughter and son-in-law, bought me Simon’s latest book as a Christmas present, How to be Wild. I found it hard to put down; there is such a resonance with my own life. Like him I too enjoy wild places and realise there is another wild place deep within my heart. Simon relates how love of the wild can be an intensely personal thing and how there are two ways to enjoy it: on your own, and in the right company. He and his young son went out for the day to learn about and look at badgers and his story took me back in time to one of the few really sunny summer days we had last year. I had travelled over to Pulborough early morning to meet Joe and we had then driven first to Mill Hill Local Nature Reserve, near Shoreham, where we stalked the downland blue and clouded yellow butterflies for the rest of the morning. It was hard work; the reserve is on the side of a steeply sloping southerly facing down and the butterflies were skittish once the sun had warmed their wings. We took our lunch there, before driving on to Cissbury Ring near Worthing, another great place to see and photograph butterflies in Sussex. There was still time to track down a third location, Sandgate Park on the outskirts of Storrington. We had never been there before, and remained undeterred when asking a local for directions were told, “I have lived here for over 50 years and there is no such place”. We eventually tracked down the entrance and what a delightful time we had, such a great location with a badger metropolis and wonderful fungi and birds. We ended the day, exhausted, back in Pulborough enjoying a pint in one of the local pubs, before I had to drive home. The point about this story is really quite simple. That day will live on in both of our memories; our endless and successful pursuit of endless numbers of butterflies and other wildlife; simple exhaustion at the end, but such a satisfying feeling. And now he and Wendy have gone. They have flown away to New Zealand, where they may decide to settle and we may never repeat that great experience. Perhaps that is the way it should be: it is difficult to imagine how we could top such an experience. Within hours of their arrival in Christchurch, after a nightmarish 40-hour travelling experience, I received an email telling me of a wonderful large yellow/orange and black butterfly he had seen – a Monarch butterfly no doubt. The lucky s..! Returning to Simon’s theme, many of my favourite wild places have been associated with birds of prey. At the end of a long day driving around the southern Peloponnese some years ago in the autumn and in dire need of somewhere to stay for the night, I saw a group of honey buzzards wheeling about overhead, and realised that we were outside a small taverna. They had a room and food to eat and so we stayed. On another occasion I was in Wester Ross in Scotland researching my family roots and traced the croft where a great-grandfather had lived. I looked up to see five buzzards in a tight spiral directly overhead. And so I could go on, the places where I have been so close to owls and other birds of prey, all of them special, wild places. All this brings me back to my recent trip to the Galapagos Islands. This was a wildlife trip like no other and there were many of my most favourite creatures: albatrosses, penguins and hawks. It was day three, a Friday, and the Cachalote had anchored at Punta Suarez, on Espanola Island. I had already spotted a hawk from the ship, perched up on the lighthouse. Disembarking from the panga the hawk was still there and I was determined to get close enough to get a decent photograph if at all possible. The trouble was I had first to circumnavigate a huge alpha-male sea lion, which was inconveniently blocking the track and then having done that I was immediately confronted with huge piles of sea iguanas, and when I say piles I mean just that. I was still distracted by all the wonderful sights and sounds all around me when I looked towards the lighthouse. I cursed; the hawk had flown. It was some minutes before I realised that this juvenile bird, for that was what it was, had simply flown down to another perch, one much lower and one that was just a few yards away from where I stood rooted to the spot. It is almost impossible to pick out a favourite island, but of all those we visited Espanola has to rank right up there at the top. There is so much wildlife there: blue-footed boobies were performing their crazy little mating dances, nazca boobies cuddled up amongst the lava, lava herons stealthily lurked in and out of sight and the waved albatrosses simply sat around, or practiced their mating rituals in readiness for next year when they return to this island to breed again. They have such grand, stern faces, but to see them in flight, and so close, is a simply awesome experience. Then it was back to more hawks, perched here and there, sometimes with an adult alongside, sometimes just on their own. To be able to get so close to predators like this is such an immense privilege. By the time we got back to the landing stage the sun was almost touching the horizon. Two hawks were still perched, close enough to completely fill the frame of my camera with my 400mm lens, and for those who know about such things, they will know just how close I was. For a few fleeting minutes the light had a warm, gorgeous glow to it and I just kept on staring at these magnificent birds. And then the sun was gone and we had to board the panga and return to the Cachalote. Four days later, on Santiago Island, came another incredible close encounter with a Galapagos hawk on a beach at James Bay. It had flown this way and that until tiring it flopped down beneath a low scrubby bush, without doubt the tamest wild hawk I have ever approached: so close, I had to back away to focus my camera. So totally unconcerned! Once upon a time things would have been like this everywhere in the world, that is, until mankind mucked things up. March 2008: Blog No. 23 So, what happened to February, I hear you ask! Where was my blog? Well, I have to tell you that I hate February. I mean, really hate, with a passion. It is such a dull, dreary, month and even that wonderful sunshine we enjoyed has not changed my mind. There were too many nights with sub-zero temperatures, although, as the nights warmed up a bit as the month wore on, some moths started to emerge. The running total for the garden is 122 species to date. On the other hand, whereas the first frog spawn appeared on 10 February in 2005, this year it did not appear until March 2! I make no excuse for returning to this theme; it is one propounded by one of my all-time favourite wildlife writers, and although he does not refer to himself as such, I believe that he is already a fully paid up member of the ‘wildlifer’ club. I was brought up in a really wild place, the Romney Marsh of the 1940s and 1950s, and I still deeply love this location, returning there at least four times a year, occasionally more. I always come away feeling, well not necessarily refreshed, because the sea air tends to knock me out almost cold with tiredness, that my soul has been renewed. It is as though the wild winds that are almost always present blow away all those accumulated cobwebs, leaving in place a person who has been once again rejuvenated. I feel that there is a small piece of that wildness tucked away deep within myself. I am happy in the company of people, but I am also happy in my own company, particularly if there is wildlife to look at, and there is always wildlife to look at on the Marsh. As Simon Barnes says in his latest book, the more you look, the more you see. That philosophy was brought home to me early this New Year. Toni and I had walked, as we always do, into the town and as we came by the park we saw a number of ‘northern’ thrushes in the top of one of the tall trees. They were fieldfares, winter visitors from Scandinavia and always a most welcome sight. They peeled off away from the tree, one by one and then in small groups, but they did not go far. Another tall tree a short distance away and they settled again, except that this time more of them drifted in from other parts of the park until there were something like thirty, or more, of them: a very welcome sight, and one that lifted both of our hearts. Passers by barely gave us a glance, as we stood rooted to the spot enjoying the scene: their loss, our gain! A couple of days later, another scene, except that this time it was our own back garden and what we were watching his time was a small flock of goldfinches, birds that are always a pleasure to see. They were busy feeding on the seed heads of the tall verbena bonariensis, planted for butterflies, but deliberately not pruned in the autumn so as to provide seeds for birds such as these: such simple delights and such pleasure. They got me thinking about the wildness of wildlife, not just here, but also in all the other places we have watched wildlife around the world. I sometimes equate the word wild to how close I can get to a creature in order to photograph it. The Galapagos Islands were superb in this respect: I have never been so consistently close to so many species in one location. Indeed, so close that at times people had to be really careful that they did not tread on the wildlife. This is such a far cry from here at home, where few birds will tolerate being too close to people. There are, of course, some exceptions, blackbirds and robins can become quite tame, but generally it is very hard indeed to get close to birds. I have marvelled, therefore, when visiting places like Sri Lanka at how easy it is to get close and personal with a lot of the birdlife. Is this a reflection on the people of Sri Lanka, many of whom are Buddhists, who would never persecute any other form of life? The same can be said to be true of a lot of birds in places Like Australia. Here, it has nothing to do with religion, more likely so much of that country is so remote that birds have never been that bothered by humans. So, why is it that the waders we see in England are so much tamer in the USA, even exactly the same species of birds? Some may think that it is again just a question of remoteness; that their shorebirds, what we call waders, have not been much bothered by people. I do no think that this argument holds water. You only have to see the busy beaches on the eastern seaboard of the USA to realise that there are as many, if not more, people on those beaches as we see on our own. I have seen American shorebirds migrating south through the West Indian islands and was amazed at how close I could get to them. Again, Ecuador boasts more species of birds than any other country in the world and yet it is really hard to get close to all but a few of them; exceedingly hard and really frustrating. Does any of this matter? Not really, wildlife should be wild and unpredictable and long may there be wild places in which we can see it. December 2008: Blog No. 24 Trip Report: India, Delhi,
Agra, Chambal River Safari and Bandhavgarh January 2009: Blog No. 25 I had a wonderful Christmas present from my daughters this year; the book Albatrosses, Their World, their ways by Tui de Roy, mark Jones and Julian Fitter. I have read it avidly twice and just cannot put it down and it has raised still vivid memories of my first encounters with albatrosses six years ago in New Zealand. This book reminds me that it was Robert Cushman Murphy, a seabird researcher who, after seeing albatrosses for the first time stated ‘I now belong to a higher cult of mortals, for I have seen the albatross!’ Exactly so, I still feel immensely privileged to have been in close proximity to such beautiful creatures. The following are just two extracts from my book In the Footsteps of my daughter: a Wildlife Odyssey, written after my first round-the-world trip from which I hope you will gain some impression of how I felt at that time late in 2002. Monday 25th November 2002 This day will live in my memory forever. Bruce collects us at 9am for his pelagic boat trip and we quickly motor out to sea. As we close in on a fishing boat, the skipper is in the process of gutting his catch and we come on over 50 shy mollymawks, or to be more precise New Zealand white-capped mollymawks. I am simply awe-struck by their sculpted faces, their sheer numbers, inter-dispersed with cape pigeons, giant, diving and white-chinned petrels, skuas and all the other rag-tag assortment of gulls. An albatross wheels above the water, the lower wing tip millimetres above the wave tops. Red-billed gulls dive in quickly to snatch pieces of fish guts only to be immediately set upon by packs of the much larger southern black-backed gulls and the skuas: few escape, the muggers are just too large and too efficient. I gaze in awe from a distance of only six feet directly into the dark eye of an albatross. It holds my gaze without blinking and I find this eyeball-to-eyeball confrontation incredibly moving. It has a beautiful head of pure white, a black eye-stripe and huge grey beak tipped with yellow. Of the seven people on board, two are busy throwing up over the side. It is not too rough, but taking photos is not easy. Bruce is obviously disappointed with the few species but the weather is too calm and there is not enough lift for the even bigger birds he had hoped for. He does his best to play the odds and knows where and when to look, but many people do not understand that he cannot call up nature to order. An Englishman, with a loud voice, appears disinterested in most of the birds. Here we are in a small boat in one of the southernmost oceans with unique birdlife all around us and yet when two rare penguins are spotted he exclaims, “I have already ticked them”, and cannot even bother to lift his binoculars to look at them. This is the difference between a birder such as me and a twitcher, or even worse a big lister, like him. He appears disinterested in the world about him, being purely intent on seeing the few birds left for him to see on his world bird list. There will never be any danger of me getting like that – I am far too interested in everything going on around me. And then on Friday 6th December 2002 Hitomi is working her way around New Zealand. She is tiny, totally manic and when she walks she sticks her bottom out and shuffles along like pictures of little old Japanese ladies. Brent does not enjoy her sitting next to him when he drives: she is prone, whenever she sees a friend, to grabbing the wheel, winding down the window and shouting out their name. She is a total scream. She cleans for Brent and his wife and is extremely thorough. Brent’s philosophy is simple. “If you want the cleaning done properly, give the job to a woman: men do not care in the same way – they are wired up differently”. This, of course, infuriates many of those who listen to him, but his words came back to me when we stayed at a hostel in Sydney and where our cleaner was a bloke. His standard of cleaning was not good. It is a great morning for a boat trip, with a mere two-metre swell as we pass the point. As we admire the scalloped limestone coastline and the mighty Kaikoura Peninsula, with its breeding grounds of fur seals and seabirds, the skipper opens the throttle and the boat surges through the water, heading straight out into the ocean for about five miles, to the edge of the great Hikurango Trench, where we hope to see albatrosses and where giant squid are said to live. Mind you, there are always those for whom even the slightest swell upsets and this trip is no exception: before long a number of those seated on the rear platform are busy ‘feeding the fish.’ This is another of those magical mornings and encounter number three, the best yet, with albatrosses. I am in love with an albatross. OK, and Toni as well and thankfully she does not eat fish the same way an albatross does. That is, all in one gulp, and raw! To see the giant wandering albatross sailing in with its ten-foot wingspan is an unforgettable sight. The largest ocean bird, it does not have the haughty mien of the smaller shy mollymawks, but all are suffering greatly from longline fishing practiced by the many foreign nations who over-fish these waters. Their fishing lines are 100-200 kms long and it is no surprise albatrosses go for the baited hooks. Unfortunately, they get caught on these and drown. It is estimated that 300,000 seabirds die in this manner every year. This unintended slaughter in the albatross capital of the world is causing much concern and stricter regulations are being imposed on fisheries within New Zealand waters. This may be easier said than done judging by the way some of the Japanese and Spanish boats operate, but anything that can be done to minimise seabird mortality, protect albatrosses and petrels is to be applauded. Even fishermen, not normally renowned for listening to anyone, are becoming concerned about seabird mortality rates. Strangely, it is still not known why some boats catch no birds, whilst others catch far too many. Seabird scaring devices are being installed, crews are encouraged not to dispose of offal overboard during line and net setting and to reduce the amount of light shone at night during setting. Now every bird casualty has to be recorded on New Zealand boats. It cannot be easy though. There is one species of albatross that can dive to a depth of twelve metres; the majority dive between one to five metres. On the other hand, sooty shearwaters can go to a depth of 67 metres. I recall the words of Chief Seattle, who is supposed to have said, “Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves. The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life: he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. Contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste”. How well he would have understood the greed that drives nations such as Japan and Spain to plunder international waters of fish and how he would have abhorred the killing of so many magnificent creatures, only to be left to rot in the water or eaten by carrion. I particularly dislike the way Japanese cut off shark fins, only to throw the bodies back into the water. We will mourn the passing of these creatures and live to regret allowing greedy people to wreak this terrible havoc.
As we speed back towards the shore, the skipper explains that he is not licenced to show us any dolphins but if he comes close to any he is obliged to drop his speed to avoid damaging these incredible creatures. Seconds later, the engine noise changes and we rapidly lose way. Almost immediately we are bang in the middle of a pod of hundreds of dusky dolphins. They are all around us, the water boiling and seething, as they churn around the boat, apparently enjoying the spectacle of us watching them, as much as the sight of them delights us. Have you ever noticed that whenever you show anyone a dolphin in the wild, that person smiles? It goes without saying that we have a boat full of smiling people. Slowly we drift through these delightful creatures and pick up speed again only to slow down again five minutes later. There are four small, and highly endangered, Hector’s dolphins right alongside the boat. They surf the waves, before tiring of our company and head out to sea again. We have not been able to book to swim with the dolphins, but this has been a great bonus for us. Of the 40 species of seabirds to be seen off Kaikoura during the course of a whole year, we have seen twenty three, including six species of albatrosses, six shearwaters and four petrels. We are truly blessed! I did, however, get to ponder this practice of feeding and luring in the birds with shark livers. It is little wonder that they have learnt to follow fishing boats for food, with all the attendant dangers. |