Author: David Jenkins

One of the activities that the Werribee Wagtails group, (now officially Birdlife Werribee), is conducting quarterly surveys at Mt Rothwell conservation park.

I’ve written about the park before, but this little piece of protected area is just to the north of the You Yangs and has its own unique woodlands and lovely rocky outcrops.
The weather was a bit on the average side, has been now for several weeks.   But we none the less walked around the three areas and had a chance to see the forest in its late spring garb.  There are usually quite a range of raptors in the air, and today was no exception. The number of Brown Falcons and Whistling Kites seemed a bit lower than normal, but with so much of the open plain for them to hunt, its not necessarily a bad thing.

One of the highlights of the morning was the call of Sacred Kingfisher, and with a bit sleuthing we were able to track down what I’d suspect is a pair.  Whether they were looking for a nesting spot or simply passing through will of course remain a mystery. But it was the first I’d seen this season, so I felt pretty good.  We also heard and again tracked down a pair of Rainbow Bee-eaters, and eventually I counted at least 7, and probably there were a couple more.   Again, not sure if they are nesting in the area, but they do regularly in the You Yangs and its but a mere wing flap or two for the travelling Bee-eater.

After lunch we entered the enclosed conservation area, and to our surprise we met “Fluffy” the Emu.  She(?) is a recent addition to the enclosure having been obtained from somewhere, staff were a bit unsure of the details. But she (we’ll stick with that), is a bit human friendly, and came trotting down to see what the humans were upto, and after politely introducing herself to several of our group she wandered around with us and among us, for the next half hour or so.

My mate An Onymous was with us and had a green neck scarf that flapped in the breeze. Fluffy seemed quite taken by said scarf and made several attempts to relieve  An of it, and when he wasn’t looking to take a peek into his camera bag, just in case there was something that may suit a growing Emu.

We had to leave Fluffy at the exit gate, so she wandered off to look for some other Emu amusement.

Enjoy

The Gannet Colony offered so many possibilities for photos that I thought I’d show a second line of the images.

I used the D7100 with a 300mm f/2.8 and a TC 1.4 Teleconverter. The camera/lens was mounted on a tripod, with a Wimberley Gimbal Head.  This setup makes the camera quite weightless to use. And it can be turned at an amazing speed to keep up with most inflight.  I have to spend a couple of minutes getting it aligned horizontally, so it spins around in line with the horizon.   It also allows me to let the camera go, and it will remain pointed at that spot. (unless off course in a high wind, when it acts more like a wind vane, but that is one of ‘benefits’.

The weather was overcast, squally, high wind and dreadfully poor light.  I ran at both 400 and 800 ISO, and all those with the new Full Frame cameras, will go “Nah, neh nar nee nar!”  but  I can deal with that.  Mostly I never shoot no Multi-burst. First and foremost, my bird photography doesn’t need it, and I see no future in having 25 shots of the same bird on the same perch with only minimal differences.  If the differences are that good, then my one shot will get it anyway.

The 300mm f/2/8 is down to f/4 with the TC and I usually stop down to f/5.6. No real reason, just old photo dude stuff.  The actually depth of field gain is negligible over the short distances I work. If I want great dof, I’ll use a 12mm lens and stand up really close to the bird.

What became intriguing as I settled in to working with these birds was the size of the nesting flock.  There was literally no gaps between nesting birds.   What was even more interesting was that the returning bird had no trouble picking out its mate nor its landing spot.  No, ‘Oh, where did I leave her/him?  I wish he/she had a red umbrella so I could find them.”  Nope, just fly over, point your beak down and land on the right spot. Super.

Invariably there would be some mutual ‘petting’ go on between them, and the resting bird did not always fly off immediately.  Some were still in nest building mode and carried in the most amazing collection of seaweed and grasses to beautify the home. No widescreen tv or coffee machines.

When the resting bird took to the air, they all gave a similar ritual of shaking themselves mid air, or ‘running’ in the air. Perhaps a muscle relief thing.  There was a constant coming and going and I have to confess that once I got into the groove it was easy to run off 15-20 frames on one bird as it swept in from the sea, or the rituals that happened on land.   In Tia Chi, Master Lam would call that “Chen, or sinking, and Hou – agility, just to keep up with them.  Thanks Doc.

Off course I had to edit them and the out of focus ones were minimal. And because of the Wimberley, hardly one that was a camera shake error.  Quite a few were poorly framed as the birds sweep in on the wind at such a pace, and the best technique would be hard pressed to keep up with them, especially as many were well under 10m from camera.

From my camera position there was a little extent of deep blue sea beyond the cliff face and I tried really hard to get the birds against that narrow blue strip for a contrast.  But, the small angle of the blue, the speed and my inability led to many that didn’t quite make the grade. I even tried hand-held at one stage, but tired quickly in the biting cold rain/wind.

My gear is protected by Lens Coat, and LensWrap.  Both are waterproof, and I wasn’t concerned by the gear getting wet. Had it turned to a complete continuous deluge, I’d have probably retreated anyway.

Because the area is out in the open, not trees or shrubs, the light was still good enough to work with higher shutters speeds, and many were 1/1600th or above. So stopping action was moderately easy.

Here is a sample from the day, enjoy

I know that all good things must come to an end, but when the weather goes from nice sunny, enjoyable, to cold, rain, windy, it’s a bit of a shock. So we woke to hear the rain rattling on the roof, the trees bent  over and the bushes behind our unit tap tap tapping on the wall.  Didn’t look good. Pull doona over head.  Nope that didn’t help.  Today we were off to Tower Hill Park, and the Beach, and a spot of looking about Port Fairy.

Stoically prepare lunch. Nice hot vegetable and barley soup into the pre-warmed Thermos. That proved to be one of my best moves of the day.  Pack in the Drizabone jacket. Second good move of the day.  Step out door. Not such a flash move. By the time we convoyed to Tower Hill, not much had changed, except now I was wearing said Drizabone.  And.  It was working, and it worked all day. Isn’t it great when a product does just what it says.  I would later stand on the beach and contemplate the bravery of early sailors in frail wooden ships that plied these impossible waters, and they used a product just like my Drizabone.

A walk around part of the lake gave  us a few birds and the highlight was probably a Rufous Whistler, but it took 18 people quite  bit of time to find it among the foliage.  We went on round to the Visitor Centre area, and walked around the Lava Flow Track.  Rain threatened and then retreated. Oh, good.   We arrived at a Bird Hide, and were getting ready to enter when it became quite urgent, as a huge squall began dumping water by the tankful. Just as well we were so close when it came down.

Back to the carpark for a warm morning tea and some nice cake provided by members, and a look at several Koalas that were in the area.  One took one look at us, the weather, and just tucked itself down even more.

Onwards to Belfast Beach, and a drive down Gorman’s Road.  Its a great place, and if you are in the area, make it part of the plan.  A inlet has created a small lagoon beyond the sandbar, and only at high tide does the water flow in. But its a great feeding area for all sorts of shore birds.  We parked the cars in a small carpark at the end of the road, and I was getting ready to go, put on Drizabone, put on warm gloves, add rainproof to camera, and … what’s this everyone is coming back.  “Oh, nothing to see?”, I enquired. “There is a large rain squall heading this way”, was the reply. And just as I opened the car door it struck. Pelted down.

So we sat in the car, and played, tic-tac-toe, I spy with my little eye something beginning with “R”, discussed the causes of world troubles, and in the end just stared out at the rain.  My Tai Chi master would have been happy.  “Ah glasshoppr, fold into your mind and see from within.”, so I wrapped the scarf closer and was absorbed by the universe.  Eventually reality set in and the rain stopped.

Down to the beach.  With a light rain, and a strong wind. Nope, make that a very very strong wind.  In between the tears being ripped out of my eyes, I could make out a range of shorebirds, and many Red-capped Plovers, several Ruddy Turnstones, and what I’m reliably informed was a Sanderling.  All hiding behind any cover they could find.   Its ok with birders as they stand back and look with long field-scopes, but us poor photographers have to get closer. So I set about slogging across the windswept sand and settled into a spot near where the waders had been actively feeding. After a few minutes they returned and I was rewarded with some reasonable closeups. Imagine if the weather had been fine.   With the rain, the salt borne on the wind, and the freezing wind, I lasted until the last man standing departed back to the cars.

Now to find lunch. Well the pre-prepared lunch spot at a sports ground in Killarney was at best windswept. So it was decided to go to Port Fairy and the rotunda on the quayside.  Third best move of the day. Shelter. Warm soup, great company and a little hint of sunshine.

From there the walk of about 4km around the coastline Griffiths Island, into the teeth of the same gale was on the agenda.  What amazing large waves and we walked past the burrows of Shearwaters. These amazing water birds with such flying skill have taken to living in burrows to have their young. Seems almost both out of character and somewhat unfair.   We could see their dark shapes riding the wild waves about 1 Km out.  An robust looking  Lighthouse stand at the far end of the island, and we found a White-bellied Sea-eagle nest in a huge pine tree on the way back.
Next on the list was a look for some Latham’s Snipes in a water hole in the township. This piece of land is used by over a hundred snipe, but is in eminent danger of being developed into townhouses. Once more I was reminded that Birds Don’t Vote in council elections.

From there the idea was to head back to our accommodation. So we took the opportunity for a bit a walk along the food strip in Port Fairy, and ended up in a lovely cafe for coffee and cake.  Bella Claire (see here https://www.facebook.com/BellaClaireCafePortFairy  set us out nicely with coffee and some amazing Lime Cheesecake. Yum. I also noted on the menu board, “Chicken Tandoori Pie”, must make a note of that I thought.   They also have a great little Photobook of the renovations and setting up, as well as events and ‘famous’ people who have been there.  Great way to make a use of photo books.   And… there is more.  Across the road is Cobbs Bakery. No prizes for guessing where I headed next.  Some fine rye bread and a great Scottish Fruit Loaf were worth the walk.

So back home in the rain, hoping that the weather might blow itself out over night.

Enjoy.

The Werribee Wagtails, (now officially Birdlife Werribee), held their annual ‘camp out’ at Warrnambool this past week.

EE and I decided to attend, and Mr An Onymous and Ms In Cognito also came down.  We took a couple of days earlier just to settle in, and stayed at the Warrnambool Surfside Caravan Park, close to the beach, close to the shops, close to the … you get the idea.

Nothing like at trip down the coast to improve the appetite, and we stopped at Routley’s Bakery in Geelong to top up with one of their selection of fine pies, and a coffee, then about 3 hours later we settled into our accommodation in Warrnambool.  Over a leisurely dinner, we discussed the possibilities and decided that a peek at Whale Watching from the designated watching area would be a good start.  Only one mother and babe in attendance, but quite close in and it was fascinating to watch these huge dark grey bulges, roll back and forth in the swell.  What got me thinking was the huge distances these creatures travel, and how this young one had just begun that adventure.

We stopped at the Hopkins River mouth, and after a walk along the beach had only a few of the  usual suspects in view. We moved to the other side of the river and up on the cliff line and even before we had exited the car, Singing Honeyeaters were there to greet us.  No fear of us humans at all as they sat on the bull-bar of the 4WD next to us, danced on the fence posts, swung on the fence wire, and played bump off games on the signage. Close ups were that easy.

A pair of Black Cormorants dominated the rocky area, and a lone Caspian Tern made runs along the cliff line just above out heads.  Then an Australasian Gannet caught my attention as it swept along the rolling sea line, then out to sea, speed back on the wind, turning over the Hopkins outflow and repeating the performance about ever 5-6 minutes.  Then it rolled over, and plunged headlong into the water.  Emergering after about 30 seconds or more. Then after a preen, it began the run over the waves to get enough speed to become airborne.  Funny to see it running up and over the crest of the wave, and the gliding to the next wave to repeat the running to get speed.

We meandered on down to the Warrnambool Pavillion Cafe Bar, for lunch.What a great spot with excellent views along the beach and over the harbour. We sat in the sun, and enjoyed great service and amazing food. I opted out of the Thai Chicken Pie, but had to look on while In enjoyed the fare.   We did the usual thing over food, told one another amazing impossible stories and sipped coffee and tea. The biggest Pot of Earl Grey I’ve ever seen.  Must have had about 4 tablespoons of tea in the strainer.  You could smell the aroma all over the cafe.

From there our journey took us to the Kilarney Beach Area, and some more Terns, and a few Red-capped Plovers. Then on to  Tower Hill Park.

Highlights were up close and personal with a squadron of Emus, a visit by the most beautiful Spotted Harrier, and a Koala asleep in the carpark tree.

Back along the road home in the late afternoon sunshine we came up a paddock full of Cattle Egrets, with lots in breeding plumage. Guesses at 60-70 were made, but the more we looked the more we saw.  Good way to end a day.

Day two to follow.  Here is how it all looked.

No, I haven’t fallen into some sludge pit at the Treatment Plant!  Just that with the weather being only average at best, we’ve not been out much, and when we have its been, well, average. Hope to publish a compilation on the weekend, but here is a quick look at a project I provided an image for.

The National Parks Service of NSW have created some interpretation boards for the centre at the Dunphys Camp in the Blue Mountains National Park, and one of my White-winged Chough images forms part of the motif.

I really like the overall feel of the finished result, and would even if my image wasn’t on there.

So here is a jpg quick look.

and Here is a larger pdf DUNPHYS CAMP draft sides 2
The original image is over in Flickr here.

Having walked in this area so many years ago when I had legs that could carry me over that terrain, it really appreciate the effort made here.

Thanks for the creative team for their super work.

Well I survived the first copy as editor, so swung by for another attempt

The August version was reduced in file size to make it easier to upload and download, but folk with big big monitors report that the pics looked  a tad unsharp.  So.

This time around the pdf is a bit larger.  Looked ok when I printed it, and was fine on the 27″ mac.
Enjoy.

Some of the images will go up on a Flickr Page. But, that’s tomorrows job.

The link on the Wag Tales tab will take you there, but for the tab weary, or wary.

September 2014 Wag Tales

One of the delights of  photographing out at Werribee River Park, is the awesome amount of raptors that call the area home, or at least call it the Supermarket.  

I’ve mentioned a couple of times in the past about a spot we’ve taken to sitting near a bend in the river under some old River Redgums and watching the comings and goings from a distinguished looking old dead tree on the far side of the river.

We noted the past couple of times activity by a pair of Black Kites, and with a bit of detective work, a heap of guessing and smidgen of luck we’ve decided they have a nest in the area.  We’ve seen them at work building the nest, going through the necessary motions of creating the eggs to go in to the nest, and watched the male feed the good lady.

Over the weeks their activity has become obvious, and as they always seem to leave and reappear from one direction, and the variety of calls coming from that area, its been possible to isolate what ‘quarter’ the nest is located.  

Now, I’m not a bird-nester, even as a little tacker, I just couldn’t get with the programme of climbing up, taking eggs and then ‘blowing’ them and popping them into shoeboxes, or old discarded cigar boxes, all laid out on cotton wool.  Not a height thing, after all small boys were made to climb.  Well they used to be, until it became politically incorrect in some Occupational Health and Safety manual. 

Just couldn’t seem to have the need to deprive birds of eggs.  Mind you the morals of a 10year old are bit hard to fathom; if you start to unravel all the pieces: Doctor, should I lay on the couch now? 

Wind forward to the present day, and while I like to be able, still, to find a bird’s nest, perhaps for the same reason as a girl’s essay, quoted in Mateship with Birds, by A.H. Chesterton, who said,

“The Wagtail’s nest is beautiful,
with the eggs it is more beautiful
with the fond mother sitting on the nest it is most beautiful.”

So it became obvious to both EE and I, that a trip to the other side of the river was going to be essential. If for no other reason than to see how ‘beautiful’ it was.

Now as luck, and the fine work of the Parks people, a bridge over said river had been provided, so like Billie Goats Gruff, we set off. 

Big pile of sticks up in a tree, seemed to be a pretty good idea of what to look for, and as we crossed the bridge and checked trees, at least we had found trees that didn’t fit the scheme. And then.  She flew in.

And a few steps more and off the track, and there was the nest, seen, but not easy to photograph.  So I meandered up the track about 50m, and found a small clearing and was able to move in the extra 75m or so, to get a good view of both the nest and a long black tail protruding out.  One or two shots, and I turned to go back the way I’d come.

Which, in simple 10 year old boy, thought was seemingly pretty easy.   But while I’d been spying out the lay of the land, I’d been spied on by the male Black Kite, and he’d ‘cunningly’ eased his way through the trees and now sat on a branch that literally barred my way back to the bridge.  At first I thought I’d try my luck, but his calls changed to a hoarse bark, and each step I took, he raised the scale.  He was about 30m up, and about 40 m from me. When he launched.

Not your jump off the branch, flap a bit and glide off down the river, but. 

Launch.  Coiled up those long muscular legs under him, turned sideways over the branch, and then with maximum propulsion launched like a torpedo, wings up before he started, so as to get the maximum speed at launch. Straight toward me. Barking in a very shrill and agitated way. How close he went by, I don’t know.  I was ducking behind the camera held up and out.  But given the space it would have been not much more than 5 metres.  He barrelled down the small cleaning and did  fast sweeping turn at the end, and headed back, but this time at least i got of 3 frames. As he went past, I made it to the track and back the way I’d come.  He landed on a branch across the track, behind me,  and barked. I turned to see and he did the same launch, but this time away from me, the power of the throw is simply spectacular. 

Most of my experience with Black Kites has lead me to the (false) assumption that they were fairly docile easy going dudes.  

I’ve seen them follow a tractor for hours in a paddock, up, and down, pulling out at the end of the run, two wing flaps for speed, and then back on the track of the tractor and keeping station with its speed.  I’ve seen over 100 of them all in the air at the same time, dropping out of the high sky, like airborne paratroopers. Invisible a first and then as they descend more and more becoming visible.  I’ve had them waft over my position just to see what I’m doing, and pass close enough to see them breath, but I’ve never crossed the line with one before.   

As I got back to Billie Goats Gruff bridge, EE passed on the best help of the day.  “That was close and you are white!”

I decided to call him Jim.  There is a song by Jim Croce, which has the lines

You don’t tread on Superman’s cape, 
You don’t spit into the wind
You don’t take the mask of the ole Lone Ranger
And
You don’t mess about with Jim.

Me. Well I changed lenses, and went off to photograph reflections in the water for awhile, much more soothing and less dangerous.

My main annoyance, as I’ve tried to explain on Flickr, is that I carelessly crossed the line with this bird.  A huge mistake on my part. I don’t blame him for taking umbrage, after all its his family at stake.  What I would have liked to have done is get his permission to be in attendance, and that takes a lot more time than just stumbling about in the bush.  I am a great believer in their face recognition ability, and I think it will be hard to become accepted by this bird now.

For that, I guess as Jon Young puts it, “Setting aside collision in favour of connection always  feels deeply right  Seeking to be a beneficiary of the Kite’s courtesy, and not break the treaty.”, is what we try to do each trip out. 
Given,I reckon she’s put in two to thee weeks already, and probably has another five to six weeks before the young is (are?) fledged, we still have a bit of work to do. 

Here’s the day.

Just a note to say have a look under the Wagtales tab on the top of the site and you’ll find access to the Werribee Wag Tales newsletter.

This enthusiastic group of birdwatchers have favoured me with arranging the monthly news, and I’ve decided to have a copy available to everyone here.

Hint: Its just a little bit different to the members one. A bit tighter edited an a few small housekeeping things left off.

If you enjoy watching, observing, counting or photographing birds, and you enjoy the company of other folk, you’ll soon see why we appreciate the outings.
Its been said before, but its worth repeating,  “Bird watching is not a spectator sport”

Enjoy

The BackPaddock is now open.  For the first time since early Feb 2014, the back paddock has been opened up to mere mortals.

We haven’t visited the area in over 2 months.  No point if the access to the gorgeous piece of Grey Box forest and grassland is inaccessible. Tired I was of pressing my cold nose up against the unforgiving and unrelenting chain mesh.  Besides the Robins, the reason we visited were obviously living the high life further down the paddock and not trips out.

Our style of photography of these delightful winter visitors, is to find the flocks, note the best feeding areas and the size and direction of the flocks and how the mixed flock is moving about.  Then finding one of those spots and waiting.  If followed, they just fly further and further from reach, but a hunting flock coming into an area is unaffected by human presence. (or in my case my presence, and that solves the asking about ‘human?”)

EE and I had reason to travel north and stopped into Greenvale shopping centre for lunch, and on a whim, as we were near, “Let’s go and walk down the Providence Road track”.  Now the alternative was a long dreary drive home on the ring road, so as the Banjo said, we went.

We weren’t going to the back paddock and were in a bit of a hurry, but a quiet walk down to the old dam area and the forest in the area can be profitable, and we started off.  A red-cap pair distracted us and I walked the last few hundred metres to the back paddock to peer through the chain mesh. And.  The gate was unlocked!  Access!!!!

The fox, must be deceased,or as Python put it. “This fox is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace!  ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-FOX!!”

Dilemma. With only a minimum of equipment, would we make a walk, or as time was not on our side, just go with our original idea.  EE pushing through the gate sort of decided the next step.

And the forest was deadly quiet. Gone are the pardalotes, thornbills, treecreepers, honeyeaters and robins.  The usual spots were all deserted.  Not even the Rosellas we’d watched earlier were wrestling for spots, and above all the Red-rumped Parrots, not a sign.

Something has happened to the food chain in this piece of Grey Box. (I’ve seen flocks of 70 or more Flame Robins work here, what with as many thornbills, honeyeaters and the like a winter flock could be well over 100 birds. Easy to find because of the noise.
Deadly quiet.

EE was feeling well, so we ambled down the track to the famous “Three Way” Junction, or “Snake City” depending on whose telling the story.  The last of our ‘cuppa’ was finished and we were pondering the drive home, when along the top of the ridge among the old downed trees, a wing flap. Then another.  It was the old ‘Three Brothers hunting group”.  3 bold males, and a number of juveniles, and at this late stage of the season with the females starting to regroup.

Gone were thoughts of a freeway, and an early dinner and tv.
Not easy to work with a group of birds that don’t want to be approached, but in the end we managed a few useable images.  And learned a few things about the late season feeding.  No longer trying to find quick food among the moss beds, these birds were after much bigger, bulking up food.  Which means, sit, jump, eat, move on.  Hard to keep up with 20+ birds going hard at it.

In the middle of all this, a resident Red-capped Robin came down to see what all at the fuss was about. After all its been nearly 6 months since he’s had humans stomping all over his front lawn.
He reminded me of Yosemite Sam of Looney Tunes, so I named him Sam.
One of Sam’s great lines slightly paraphrased seemed to be on this little bird’s mind as he hopped about watching the activity.  “Tripod holes,  Some low-down ornery photographer is gettin’ tripod holes all over my Forest. ”
Yosemite Sam said it this ways. :”Great horny toads … a trespasser gettin’ footie prints all over my desert”

In the end they moved one time too many and disappeared over a ridge line.(probably heading for an evening roosting spot), and the light was beating us.  So we headed for the gate.  Met Andrew H, on the way, and so nice to catchup after so long.

Good to have access the Bandicoot Hilton once again.  Just need some reasonable weather to be able to sort out the hunting orders and have at the birds relax around us.  Time is of the essence, as they will be gone by the mid of August. 3 weeks perhaps.

Here tis