Showing posts with label Birdwatching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birdwatching. Show all posts

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Countdown to 600 - Top End Birds



600 is a landmark number for a birdwatcher in Australia. Enough to warrant the creation, quite a while ago now, of the 600 Club. This was apparently the invention of the late John McKean, an eminent Australian ornithologist and birdwatcher, who was supposedly the first to see 600 species of Australian birds.

Well before Karen and I headed for Darwin and Kakadu National Park in the second half of May this year, I knew I was likely to reach the 600 milestone while there. My Australian List was sitting on 594 after seeing Broad-billed Sandpiper and White-rumped Sandpiper in January (see White-rumped Sandpiper Twitch), and I had a target list of some 15 or so birds that I wanted to try for.

Broad-billed and White-rumped Sandpiper - the last two birds I'd added to my Australian List (January 2015). 

My target list included some relatively straightforward species that I just hadn’t picked up on previous trips to Darwin in 2008 and 2010 (for example, Northern Rosella, Silver-backed Butcherbird, and Broad-billed Flycatcher); some of the more elusive birds possible around Darwin (Great-billed Heron, Chestnut Rail, White-breasted Whistler, Buff-sided Robin, Zitting Cisticola etc); some species that have limited distributions in places I hadn’t yet visited (e.g. Chestnut-quilled Rock Pigeon, Black-banded Fruit Dove, Hooded Parrot, White-throated Grasswren, White-lined Honeyeater, Sandstone Shrikethrush, and Gouldian Finch); as well as a few other miscellaneous possibilities (Red-backed and Chestnut-backed Buttonquail, Eastern Grass Owl, Star Finch, Yellow-rumped Mannikin etc.). Other tempting species like White-quilled Rock Pigeon, Purple-crowned Fairywren and Yellow Chat were just beyond our geographical scope and itinerary.

But I thought that with a target of 15 or so, even if I only caught up with half of them I should make the 600. And so it was…





We spent the first weekend in Darwin, catching up with Karen’s family - the underlying reason for the trip to Darwin was Emily’s (Karen’s niece) wedding. I got my first two new species in those first couple of days.

The first was pure chance, within a few hours of arriving on the Friday afternoon. I had just headed out from where we were staying at Karen’s sister’s place in the Palmerston suburb of Gunn, just for a quick look around and re-familiarisation with the local Darwin birds. I was walking along the Bakewell (adjacent suburb) side of Buscall Avenue, mentally counting the Straw-necked Ibis grazing on the sports oval (as one does - there were 19), and noting the interactions of a juvenile Olive-backed Oriole with two adults, when I was drawn by the soft chattering of a pair of Northern Rosellas in some flowering eucalypts. Holy crap! I wasn’t expecting that. And I didn’t have my camera with me. But I had a good 10 minutes watching them from as little as a few metres. Not, perhaps, as attractive as the Crimson and Eastern Rosellas I’m used to having around at home in Canberra, but hey – they made a nice couple – and they were a tick. No. 595.

Northern Rosella Platycercus venustus - bird No. 595.
This one was photographed at Edith Falls as I didn't have my camera with me
when I first saw the birds in Palmerston. 

My second new bird, the next morning, was also in Gunn, down at the local suburban Sanctuary Lakes. These are a connected set of three large ponds in a fantastic public space that turned out to be brilliant for dragonflies too (see previous post - Top End Dragonflies). But it was the Broad-billed Flycatcher flitting from lily to lily that gave me my 596th bird. I’m pretty certain I had in fact seen this species previously (at both Fogg Dam and at the Arnhem Highway crossing of the Adelaide River, in 2008) but neither of those sightings had been definitive enough to be sure they weren’t female Leaden Flycatchers. On this bird, the pale lores, the just discernible graduation to the tail feathers, and the low profile forehead were enough for me to be convinced it was indeed a Broad-billed. Two days later I saw another bird, at Fogg Dam, which also showed these characteristics. It was in the exact same location, maybe even to the tree, I’d seen the ‘possible’ in 2008…

Broad-billed Flycatcher Myiagra ruficollis at Sanctuary Lakes in Gunn, Palmerston.

Broad-billed Flycatcher - Fogg Dam

Early on Monday morning we headed east towards Kakadu. No. 597 followed soon after, being a Silver-backed Butcherbird on roadside power lines on the Arnhem Highway, not far out of Humpty Doo, about 35 km south-east of Darwin. We’d whizzed past initially, but when Karen called it as possibly a butcherbird I did a fairly rapid U-turn and went back to check. Fortunately it was still in place, so as soon as I’d verified everything through binoculars, I snapped off a few record shots of it against a rather bright sky.
 
Silver-backed Butcherbird Cracticus argenteus - near Humpty Doo.

On the morning of our second day in Kakadu National Park, after staying in Jabiru overnight, we did a scenic flight over the escarpment around the East Alligator River before heading down to Nourlangie. 

After a quick look at Anbangbang Billabong we ascended the short track up the rock to Nawurlandja lookout for the spectacular views out over the billabong and across to Nourlangie and the Burrunggui outcrop. It was just past midday and it was hot in the sun. It was hot in the shade! So Karen headed back to the car where she ran the engine and air conditioner, while I continued higher up the escarpment on my quest to find Sandstone Shrikethrush and Chestnut-quilled Rock Pigeon.

It was tough going as the sandstone terrain is regularly dissected by clefts, fissures and small ravines. I neither saw nor heard any indication of the presence of my quarry. But on my way back, after nearly an hour of slogging, in one of the deeper ravines which supported some dense trees, some of which were fruiting, I came across a group of about 10 Banded Fruit Doves. They were very shy and kept their distance, either flying away from me behind the trees, or deftly remaining hidden behind the thickest foliage. I did manage a few photos of one semi-obscured individual that seemed to want to check me out almost as much as I did it. So it was one of those satisfying twitches resulting from an acceptable amount of effort, and not even the twitch you were expecting.

A shy but inquisitive Black-banded Fruit Dove Ptilinopus alligator at Nawurlandja - No. 598.

Next day, Wednesday, at Yellow Water billabong, I kept a keen eye out for any Great-billed Herons. But the guide on the boat said they didn’t usually hang out in the part of the billabong we could access at that time of year. I did at one point see a large heron, in flight, in the distant brightness of the early morning sky. It was probably close to 500 metres away and although the profile looked good I couldn’t be confident that it was a Great-billed, nor completely discount the nagging suspicion of the possibility of it being a silhouetted White-necked Heron. One of those I think it is, I think it is, but can’t in clear conscience claim the tick situations. Another one for another time.

The biggest surprise on the Yellow Water cruise was a lone Dusky Moorhen skulking in the shadows of thick vegetation. Although a common bird for me normally, this one was well outside its normal range, as the species doesn’t usually occur in the Top End.

Early morning at Yellow Water.

Our next key stop was at Gunlom and Waterfall Creek where I was still hoping for Chestnut-quilled Rock Pigeon, Sandstone Shrikethrush and White-lined Honeyeater. I held no hope of seeing White-throated Grasswren. Sadly they have not been recorded in the area where they used to be seen regularly for several years now, thought to be due to loss of suitable habitat through inappropriate fire regimes. As I write, there is a group of birdwatchers who have dedicated a full week to trek into the wilds of the western Arnhemland escarpment with the sole purpose of trying to find White-throated Grasswrens. Such appear to be the requirements to see this scarce and localised species nowadays!

Needless to say, I was again unsuccessful with the pigeon, shrikethrush and honeyeater. But we did see another couple of Black-banded Fruit Doves. We were about half way up the escarpment track, i.e. in dry woodland, when Karen pointed out a couple of pigeons in the bare branches of a dead tree behind us. They were in plain view, completely unconcerned, and nowhere near a fruiting let alone a fig tree. Quite a different and, to be honest, slightly unsatisfying experience (except for Karen) compared to the one I’d had at Nawurlandja a couple of days previously.

Black-banded Fruit Doves at Gunlom

From Gunlom, our tight schedule took us across to Pine Creek, where our mission was to see Hooded Parrots in the main streets of the town. Apparently they come in fairly reliably in the late afternoon to a range of known watering points. As it turned out, the first ones came in a little earlier than expected and come 3:30 pm we saw a pair fly into the shady foliage of a eucalypt where they settled for a short while before dropping down to a spitting impact sprinkler. 

And so it was that, from the shade and comfort of a picnic table outside the local petrol station and general store, as the Darwin to Katherine bus came and went, we watched bird number 599 while slurping our rapidly melting homemade ice creams. A bit of a gimme, yet surprisingly satisfying. And it left us time to move on to the local sewage works, as well as a brief stop in at Edith Falls Road, before making the final leg down to Katherine for the night.

Male Hooded Parrot Psephotellus dissimilis at Pine Creek.

And a female Hooded Parrot playing in the sprinkler at Pine Creek.

Before first light next morning (Friday) we were on our way back to Edith Falls Road where our target was Gouldian Finch. When we’d stopped in there briefly in the late afternoon of the previous day, we’d stationed ourselves near a small pool beside a culvert about 3 km in from the highway. It seemed, to me at least, like a good spot, though it wasn’t the one normally described in the bird-finding guides. And we had seen a couple of Peaceful Doves and a quintet of Chestnut-breasted Mannikins come down to drink just before sunset, so I thought we at least had a chance.

As the sun lifted into the eastern sky we alternated between sitting patiently near the water and wandering quietly along the roadside. We saw lots of different birds, including Double-barred Finches and Long-tailed Finches, but no Gouldian Finches. After an hour or so, and with activity decreasing, we decided to move on to Edith Falls (a really lovely spot), but agreed to stop again briefly on our way back out in the middle of the day.

On this third stop, we’d only been there a few minutes, and I really wasn’t holding much hope of seeing them, when a movement in the branches of a eucalypt about 50 metres away on the other side of the road caught my eye. On swinging up the binoculars for confirmation, I do believe I let out a suppressed expletive before beckoning to Karen to get over here quickly! I had my Gouldian Finch. And it was bird number 600! You couldn’t ask for more.

Gouldian Finch Erythrura gouldiae - a very special bird for my 600th. Edith Falls Road, NT.

The bird flew down to a small paperbark sapling and was soon joined by another. They fidgeted about in the sapling for a good five minutes or so, reassuring themselves of their safety, before darting down to a flattened patch in the tall grass which (as I later determined) contained a tiny puddle of water. We didn’t see them fly off again but it was an exquisite moment – exhilaration, relief, joy, satisfaction, contentment, companionship all rolled into a bundle of emotion that the poor photographs I got as proof of the reality can’t hope to recall. Wow!

Gouldian Finch dropping down to a puddle to drink.

On a bit of a high, we headed back to Katherine. We were booked on a sunset and dinner cruise on Katherine Gorge in Nitmiluk National Park, which would be a very fitting and celebratory end to the day.

The Gorge is gorgeous. Spectacular. Absolutely stunning. I was vaguely conscious that I should still be keeping an eye out for rock pigeons, which I did, but the cliffs, their form and colour, the play of light on them and their reflections, were captivating. So it was with some surprise, and delight, that as we approached the rocky shoals that separate the first and second gorges (as they are called from a navigable perspective) I saw the cryptic grey form of a Great-billed Heron amongst boulders under some trees. This was completely unexpected, and all the better for it. Later, and further up the gorge we came across another one. The light was fading rapidly in the depths of the gorge, so shutter speeds were getting slower and pictures more blurred. Even the best photos are far from sharp, but some of the effects are interesting and add to the ethereal quality of the experience.

Finally - a Great-billed Heron Ardea sumatrana. Katherine Gorge, NT.

Another Great-billed Heron - Katherine Gorge, NT.

A vaguely fossilised take on a Great-billed Heron against the cliffs of Katherine Gorge in late afternoon.
Another surreal blurred image of a Great-billed Heron in fading light 

So that was it for my new birds. Back in Darwin for our final weekend (and Emily's wedding) I failed to pick up Chestnut Rail and White-breasted Whistler, and I never caught up with Buff-sided Robin. And I have to confess to being a little disappointed about missing the trio of sandstone specialists. But I reached my 600 and went one beyond – and I’m very happy with that.


595      Northern Rosella                        Palmerston                   -12.49204, 130.99532
596      Broad-billed Flycatcher              Palmerston                   -12.48948, 130.99638
597      Silver-backed Butcherbird          Humpty Doo                 -12.575, 131.114
598      Black-banded Fruit Dove           Nawurlandja                 -12.8594, 132.7941
599      Hooded Parrot                           Pine Creek                   -13.82220, 131.83472
600      Gouldian Finch                          Edith Falls Road           -14.19057, 132.07523
601      Great-billed Heron                    Katherine Gorge            -14.31135, 132.44863



As the Australian bird list has grown over the years, through the combined effects of more birdwatchers, greater mobility of birdwatchers (especially to Australia’s offshore territories and dependencies), increases in recording and acceptance of vagrants particularly through digital photography, and the reassignment of species through taxonomic revision (i.e. a current trend in ‘splitting’), there is now need for a 700 Club and even an 800 Club!

Tony Palliser maintains a list of birders who have seen 600 or more birds at his Australian Birders Totals page at http://www.tonypalliser.com/totals.html  (or at least a list of those who are interested enough to provide him with their names and details – I know plenty of birders above the 600 mark not on the list!). And when you join any of these Clubs, you are entitled to a special badge to acknowledge the effort it takes to get there (see Andrew Isles’ web page at http://andrewisles.com/birding-badges/  for further details on the badges available).


The 600 Club badge.



So while it’s good to finally reach the 600 milestone – and I now sit at the very bottom of Tony’s list, and will soon contact Andrew for my badge – given that it has taken me the better part of 25 years to get to 600, I think it could be quite a while yet before I achieve 700…


Monday, 19 January 2015

White-rumped Sandpiper twitch



Last Tuesday I took the day off work and went down to the New South Wales south coast to twitch a wader – a White-rumped Sandpiper.

I don’t consider myself a twitcher as such. Yes, I’ve left work previously, in the middle of the day, to go to see a bird well out of its more usual range that had showed up at one of Canberra’s wetlands, or woodlands, or even suburban roadside trees. A Crimson Chat, Swift Parrots, Little Egrets, Purple-crowned Lorikeets, a Wood Sandpiper, a Pacific Emerald Dove and Red-necked Avocets amongst many others spring readily to mind. But I haven’t until now gone beyond the ACT or more than 50 km or so specifically to see an itinerant or wayward bird.

I didn’t go for the Grey-headed Lapwing of Burren Junction in 2006, I didn’t try for the Forest Wagtail that spent the winter of 2013 in Alice Springs, and I haven’t travelled the 670 odd kilometres to Lake Tutchewop in north-western Victoria to see the Long-billed Dowitcher that may still be there as I type.

But I did go to Lake Wollumboola, 200 km from Canberra, to see the White-rumped Sandpiper.

Lake Wollumboola can be a great spot for wader watchers, and hosts a Little Tern breeding colony most years.
This is how the lake looked in April 2011 after it had been open to the sea for several months. The lake is normally isolated from the sea by a sand berm about 100 m across, at which times the lake waters are slightly above sea level and become brackish. The lake has been open to the sea 21 times between 1969 and 2013. 

I was first aware of the sandpiper’s existence when it was reported from Shoalhaven Heads on Monday 5 January by Nigel and Carla Jackett. By the following day it had relocated to Lake Wollumboola, ten kilometres further south, a site I know well from many visits as it is not far from Currarong where I have spent many weekends at my sister’s holiday house.

I vaguely considered going for the White-rumped Sandpiper, but work and other issues took precedence and I let it pass. That is until I received an email from a friend and fellow member of the Canberra Ornithologist’s Group on the Monday afternoon seeking interest from a fourth person to accompany her, Sandra and Jean (just to fill the car) on a trip planned for the next day.

Within a couple of hours I had cleared it with my boss, got in touch with Sue to claim that final seat, found out a bunch of information about the bird itself, got verification from a couple of other Canberra birdos that they had seen the sandpiper earlier in the day, so it was still there – oh, and phoned Karen (my partner) to let her know I’d be going!

The wader-preferred part of Lake Wollumboola as it was in January 2015.

When we arrived at the lake, the waders were all aggregated in the usual spot where low, sparsely vegetated sand hillocks and sandbars currently provide some protection and security along the shallow margins of the brackish lake waters. And it took us only a few minutes of scanning the many waders present – mainly Red-necked Stints, Red-capped Plovers, and Red Knots, with just a couple of Sharp-tailed Sandpipers, a Lesser Sand Plover and a single Bar-tailed Godwit (there had been 42 sharpies and 18 godwits when I was last at the lake, three months previously) – to locate a couple of Broad-billed Sandpipers. This was the other key species we were after (both Sue and I had tried for Broad-billed Sandpiper at Tuross Heads several years previously without success). Five minutes in and all four of us had a lifer!

The two Broad-billed Sandpipers we saw within 5 minutes of arriving.

And it was probably only another ten minutes at most before we located the White-rumped Sandpiper, feeding essentially by itself, but amongst the various other waders. Having found the object of our quest so quickly and easily, we settled down for a longish stint (sorry!) of relaxed wader watching.

Our first view of the White-rumped Sandpiper across the small embayment.

Just to be clear, White-rumped Sandpipers (Calidris fuscicollis) breed in northern Alaska and northern Canada and usually migrate down through eastern and central USA to the Caribbean and on to Argentina for the northern winter / southern summer. They are not often seen in Australia, there being only a handful of records. It has been claimed that this bird was the most ‘twitchable’ White-rumped Sandpiper for at least 20 years! And it is very definitely being twitched by a large number of people (at least by Australian standards...)  Somehow, this bird must have either got its compass directions wrong, or perhaps got caught up with a bunch of co-migrating Red-necked Stints and ended up on Australia’s sunny beaches.

The White-rumped Sandpiper was undoubtedly the least wary of the waders there, and, if you stood quietly, would approach to within about 3-4 metres as it worked its way methodically back and forth along the shoreline. Conditions weren’t brilliant for photography (light overcast with strong glare both from above and from the water’s surface) but at least there was no stark shadowing. The following are just a few of the several hundreds of photos I took that morning of these two new (for me) species.

Two Red Knots and two Broad-billed Sandpipers
 
Broad-billed Sandpiper (centre) with female Red-capped Plover (behind) and Red Knot for size comparison.

Characteristic profile, with long droop-tipped bill, of a Broad-billed Sandpiper.

The waders seemed to have no problem finding plenty of food in the form of small marine worms.

Broad-billed Sandpiper in flight.

The Lake Wollumboola White-rumped Sandpiper (with Red Knot behind).

The White-rumped Sandpiper typically foraged at the sandy-muddy water's edge...

...in a continuous scan and probe method...

...to locate small marine worms...

...which it ate with relish.

But it also spent some time foraging over the sand further from the water's edge
(although the mud was just a centimeter or two beneath the sand!).

White-rumped Sandpiper in flight - showing... white rump.

Broad-billed Sandpiper and White-rumped Sandpiper together. Two lifers for me (numbers 593 and 594 for my Australian List) in the one photo - wader watchers' bliss!

The third most exciting find for me were the three or four White-winged Terns (the first I’ve seen in NSW) that were preening on the sandbars amongst the more usual Little Terns. Other terns present were a couple of hundred Greater Crested Terns, the odd Fairy Tern, and a brief fly-by from a pair of Caspian Terns – all usual suspects for the site (at least in summer).

White-winged Terns behind Little Terns - Lake Wollumboola, NSW.

And a single Fairy Tern amongst the Littles. 
[It seems this bird is likely a Little Tern x Fairy Tern hybrid - see postscript below]

Greater Crested Tern with dependent young.

A small group of Red Knots - the one on the right with a trace of red, whether residual or developing who knows.

Following is a list of the birds we saw at Lake Wollumboola that morning. This doesn’t include any we saw at the car park and picnic area at the northern end of the lake, but does include what we saw on the lake or in the fringing vegetation as seen from our wader watching spot. Some numbers are fairly rough estimates as our focus was very largely on the two target sandpipers! And for anyone interested, there is a nifty little pamphlet about Lake Wollumboola and its birds at: 


Black Swan                          >2,000
Chestnut Teal                                4
Great Egret                                  10  
White-faced Heron                        1  
Australian Pelican                        54
Little Pied Cormorant                    4
Little Black Cormorant            ~200
Great Cormorant                           4
Swamp Harrier                              1
White-bellied Sea-Eagle                2
Eurasian Coot                       >5,000
Australian Pied Oystercatcher      3
White-headed Stilt                         1
Red-capped Plover                   ~30
Lesser Sand Plover                       3
Bar-tailed Godwit                           1
Eastern Curlew                              3
Red Knot                                   ~15
Red-necked Stint                       ~40  
White-rumped Sandpiper           1
Sharp-tailed Sandpiper                 2
Broad-billed Sandpiper              3
Silver Gull                                      3
Caspian Tern                                 2
Greater Crested Tern              ~130
Little Tern                                  ~40
Fairy Tern                                      1  
White-winged Tern                        3  
Nankeen Kestrel                            1
Superb Fairy-wren                         2
Brown Thornbill                              2
Australian Magpie                          2
Magpie-lark                                    1
Silvereye                                        2
Red-browed Finch                         2

White-rumped Sandpiper at Lake Wollumboola, 13 January 2015.

It was a great day – much better than being at work!



Postscript (28 January 2015)

In an email exchange with Dimitris Bertzeletos, he provided convincing arguments that the bird I identified above as a Fairy Tern was in fact a Fairy Tern x Little Tern hybrid. His comments included: 
Fairy Tern reaches the north eastern parts of breeding range around Turross Estuary with the odd bird turning up at Lake Wollumbulla and hybridization is regular as there are few Fairies around. The facial pattern does indeed look good for Fairy, but the amount of a black on the beak (Australian Fairies shouldn't show any in breeding plumage, and even in non breeding condition it is too extensive and clear cut imo) as well as the grey tones on the wings point towards Little influence.

Sunday, 30 November 2014

Yellow-billed Kingfisher - Portraits and Profiles



I’ve twice been to Iron Range National Park (now Kutini-Payamu National Park) on bird banding trips. The first was in late November 2005 – the banner photo above shows our campsite at Gordon Creek. The second trip was at the same time of year but six years later, in 2011. The timing is very deliberate – intended to coincide with the very end of the dry season, so after most migrants have returned to the area if they’re going to, but hopefully also before the wet begins. If you’re still there after the first big rains you could be stuck there for quite a while as the river crossings become impassable.

Not that this timing has any relevance to the bird featured in this blog post. The Yellow-billed Kingfisher is resident in the area, inhabiting rainforest edges, tropical scrubs and woodland edges. It is a beautiful bird, not uncommon, and fairly frequently heard, but often difficult to actually see. This, together with its restricted range, makes it one of the key target species for birdwatchers venturing to the far north of Queensland’s Cape York Peninsula. 

When seen, the Yellow-billed Kingfisher is most often glimpsed in the depths of the rainforest vegetation.

Mostly they’ll keep to themselves, well hidden in the dense foliage of the lower to middle canopy. Even when nesting they have been described as non-aggressive and liable to desert the nest if disturbed (Reader's Digest 1976), but other evidence suggests they can be fairly pugnacious and won’t hesitate to make their discontent known if riled. David Hollands in his book Kingfishers & Kookaburras : Jewels of the Australian Bush (1999) relates eloquently and evocatively (as he does) some of his experiences trying to photograph nesting yellow-bills at Iron Range, and at 'Silver Plains' at the southern limit of the species’ distribution.

While banding along Portland Road in Iron Range National Park in 2011, we had a pair of Yellow-billed Kingfishers regularly taunting us with their calls, which are notoriously ventriloquial. Their call is a pleasant whistled usually descending trill, somewhat similar to that of the Fan-tailed Cuckoo. (And sometimes likened to a postman’s whistle – but I’ve never actually experienced the blowing of a postal worker’s whistle; well, maybe in an old movie I guess.) The birds were obviously fairly close, but proved proverbially difficult to locate. Eventually we did find the birds, in the canopy almost directly above us. They may well have ventriloquial calls, but I think they were also moving about a little ‘cause I really don’t think they were looking down haughtily at us for all of the time we were hearing them!


Female Yellow-billed Kingfisher in the trees above our banding site at Iron Range NP.

Later, the male joined her and they both watched us quietly as we watched them rather more excitedly.

Yellow-billed Kingfishers are about 20 cm in length. The male has a bright orange head, the female's is not quite so bright and has a dark patch on top of the crown. Both have dark spots either side of the nape. They feed mainly on insects, earthworms and small lizards. The nest is excavated in an arboreal termite nest, usually 3-15 metres above the ground.

They are also called Saw-billed Kingfishers because of the serrated edge to the upper bill (see photos below), and in New Guinea, where two of the three subspecies occur, they are also known as Lowland or Lesser Yellow-billed Kingfishers to distinguish them from their congener, the Mountain Kingfisher.

The Australian race, which occurs from the northern tip of Cape York to Princess Charlotte Bay, is known scientifically as Syma torotoro flavirostris. Syma is the name of a 'sea nymph' from Greek mythology (there is an ongoing theme of sea-based mythological personages and animals in kingfisher taxonomy for reasons which are best left alone here but well worth looking into if you have the time and inclination - Google, or try Australian Bird Names - a complete guide by Ian Fraser and Jeannie Gray, CSIRO Publishing, 2013 - it's a great read!). The specific epithet, torotoro, is from the local name for the bird in West Papua. René Lesson, the French ornithologist who named the species in 1827, claimed it was in reference to the birds' call. I must hear things differently! The subspecies name flavirostris means yellow-billed (surprise, surprise), and was given by John Gould in 1850 when he named the species Halcyon flavirostris, not realising that Lesson had already done the honours with the New Guinea birds. 



We were lucky enough to see Yellow-billed Kingfishers on both trips to the Cape, and band both  a female and a male in 2005, providing perfect opportunities to photograph the birds in the hand. I'll let the photos speak for themselves...


Female Yellow-billed Kingfisher Syma torotoro, Iron Range NP, Nov 2005.
Note the dark patch on the crown, which only the female has.

Male Yellow-billed Kingfisher Syma torotoro, Iron Range NP, Nov 2005.
The serrated edge to the upper bill provides the alternative name of Saw-billed Kingfisher.

Female Yellow-billed Kingfisher Syma torotoro, Iron Range NP, Nov 2005.
The twin nape spots are larger in females and sometimes join up forming a short collar.

Male Yellow-billed Kingfisher Syma torotoro, Iron Range NP, Nov 2005.
The males head plumage is brighter with no dark patch on the crown.

Female Yellow-billed Kingfisher Syma torotoro, Iron Range NP, Nov 2005.
Male Yellow-billed Kingfisher Syma torotoro, Iron Range NP, Nov 2005.

You'll never see eyes as beautiful as this on any other bird! I just wonder how they stop the mascara running in the humidity!