WESTERN SHRIKETIT AT LAST

I was very frustrated last year when I dipped on the Western Shriketit after having seen (with some effort) the supposedly more difficult Northern Shriketit. This time I was determined not to fail. So succeed I did! Thank you, Des Hume! I was advised not to travel during school holidays (always good advice) but I had not considered that it is best not to travel the day after school holidays either. My plane flight to Perth on Monday 15 April was uncomfortably full and I thought I'd have been better off travelling another day. However, when my trip home to Melbourne from Perth on the following Thursday was equally uncomfortably full, I revised this opinion and decided there was little I could do to ensure a comfortable flight. Des picked me up from my hotel at 7 a.m. on Tuesday morning and we drove straight to the Stirling Range, pausing only for coffee at Kojanup and arriving comfortably in time for lunch. We stayed at the Stirling Range Retreat and immediately checked out the famous water bowl by the office where the shriketits come to drink. Of course there was nothing there. It wasn't going to be that easy.

There were lots of Gilbert's Honeyeaters and Restless Flycatchers around the office and we heard owlet-nightjars, but did not see them. We wandered around and it wasn't long before Des heard shriketits call. Very quickly we were on to them: three birds, two males and a female.

THE GOLD COAST AND BRISBANE

Last year, I attempted to see a New Caledonian Storm Petrel out of Southport, and instead saw my bogey bird, the White-necked Petrel. So of course I had to return in 2024 to try again for the New Caledonian Storm Petrel. Paul Wallbridge reckoned I should give March a go this year, so March it was. Pelagics out of Southport were scheduled for Saturday and Sunday 16 and 17 March, but seas were too rough and the Saturday pelagic was cancelled. Luckily, I'd been booked on the Sunday. I always think of Southport waters as benign. I don't know how often these pelagics are cancelled because the seas are too rough, but let's just say it doesn't happen as often as it does down south. I was relieved my pelagic was still scheduled to go, but I remained anxious that something would go wrong until we were actually on the boat, and the captain was giving us our safety briefing, warning that it was going to be rough. As it turned out, it wasn't very rough. It did rain more than I would have preferred, but it wasn't too bumpy. There were 14 people on board and only one was seasick. I've been on worse pelagics, but it was, for me at least, a disappointing day. I recorded 24 species, but that's only because I started writing down my sightings as soon as I boarded the boat, so my day's tally includes Welcome Swallow, Pelican and Far Eastern Curlew. The only storm petrels we saw all day were Wilson's. This is an old photo of a Wilson's Storm Petrel was taken by Ken Haines, who wasn't on Sunday's pelagic.

On Sunday, we saw Hutton's Shearwater, but not Fluttering. I'm told that's usual for Southport. We saw several Tahiti Petrels, at least one Gould's, and quite a few Kermadecs in various plumages. The best bird of the day as far as I was concerned was a dark phase Long-tailed Jaeger, which Paul Wallbridge said he'd never seen before. One very interesting thing (which I'd never heard of before) was decoy storm petrels, made by Jacob Crisp out of old thongs! Paul and Jacob both assured me that these decoys worked, that is to say they attracted storm petrels. I certainly saw birds flying by for a closer look, but as the decoys were in amongst the burley, it was difficult to determine if the inquisitive seabirds were investigating the decoys or the food. Jacob kindly provided this photo of his decoys.

I was staying on the thirtieth floor of the Meriton Suites and when I returned, I was delighted to be greeted by a Pied Butcherbird sitting on my balcony. That was fun.

On Monday, I spent a wonderful day birding with Rae Clark. She took me to Federation Walk in Southport (Bush Stone-curlews, Scaly-breasted Lorikeets, Brahminy Kite, Osprey and a lovely Leaden Flycatcher), then to Sandy Camp Road Wetland (Comb-crested Jacana, White-throated Honeyeater, Rainbow Bee-eater, Variegated Fairywren), then to Wynnum Mangrove Boardwalk (Mangrove Gerygone, Torresian Kingfisher, Tawny Grassbird, Grey-tailed Tattler). What a great day! I love it when I can't decide what is the best bird of the day. In the end I chose the Mangrove Gerygone, because he was beautiful and cooperative and I don't see them often, but Rae pointed out that the White-throated Honeyeater was all of these things too. She is quite right. And I did love the tiny black fluffy chicks of the Buff-banded Rail. So, while the pelagic let me down, I had a great trip. I will try again next year for the New Caledonian Storm Petrel. I hope it doesn't take me as long to see this special storm petrel as it took me to see the White-necked Petrel, because I may not live that long! POSTSCRIPT: On 24 March 2024, Jon Spicer-Bell reported seeing 4 New Caledonian Storm Petrels at Britannia Guyots, Southport Seamount. This is in NSW and must be very close to where I went looking for the storm petrels last February.

BIRD OF THE MONTH

BOM may mean Bureau of Meteorology to you. To me it means Bird of the Month. I make this personal award each month to the bird that has given me the most pleasure. It doesn't have to be a lifer; it doesn't have to be a rarity. Simply a bird that's given me pleasure. At the end of the year I have a list of twelve birds that evokes wonderful memories. Sometimes it is quite obvious which bird deserves the award. If, for example, I've seen a lifer. Sometimes it isn't quite so easy. But, so far at least, there's always been some bird that's given me please and warrants the accolade. In June, I wrote of my birds of the month so far for 2023. Now I can complete the year's list. It looks like this: JANUARY: COMMON KINGFISHER - lifer on Cocos. The thing that struck me most at the time about the kingfisher was how absolutely gorgeous it was. It was even more beautiful (if that's possible!) than our Azure Kingfisher. I hadn't expected that. Then, strangely, I saw another Common Kingfisher on Cocos again in November. It was a young bird and wasn't nearly so brightly coloured. I was very pleased that I'd seen the January bird and understood just how spectacular they can be. These birds have a very wide distribution throughout Europe and Asia, but it was a bird that I'd never expected to be able to write onto my Australian list.I took this photo from HBW and BirdLife International Illustrated Checklist of the Birds of the World:

FEBRUARY: WHITE-NECKED PETREL. This was a real bogey bird for me. I'd looked for it for many years with certainly well over twenty interstate trips for the purpose. And, when I eventually saw it, it was not an anticlimax: it was even more beautiful than I'd expected. This beautiful photo is by Paul Walbridge, who runs the Southport pelagics.

MARCH: EASTERN SPINEBILL I grew up with Eastern Spinebills in Ringwood. They used to be in Kew, where I live. Not any more. So, when a spinebill turned up in my neighbour's garden, it was cause for celebration. Unfortunately, seeing a spinebill in Kew today is a rare occasion. This lovely photo by Ken Haines, is not the bird in question.

APRIL: AUSTRALIAN CRAKE. This illustraion is from HANZAB. - an irruption at Werribee

MAY: OLIVE-BACKED ORIOLE A beautiful bird, well worth the appelation of Bird of the Month in its own right, but on this occasion, the award was made because the bird greeted in my street! It was sitting in the neighbour's silver birch. In May! This summer migrant should not have been in Melbourne in May, let alone in my suburban street. Again, this lovely photo by Ken Haines, is not the bird in question.

JUNE: DAME EDNA, FEMALE SUPERB FAIRYWREN This female Superb Fairywren with the diagnostic red around the eye, has the blue tail characteristic of a male bird. I refer any reader wanting to know more about this phenomenon to my blog posting of last June when I quoted Tim Birkhead on the subject. This photo, taken by Peter petinatos, shows the female Superb Fairywren, with a male's blue tail.

JULY: EASTERN GRASS OWL - at the Western Treatment Plant. You are not permitted to go into the farm at night, but I saw this owl while I was travelling on the public roads. It's the first Grass Owl I've ever seen in my home state. The photo is from CSIRO's Australian Bird Guide.

AUGUST: AUSTRALIAN GOLDEN WHISTLER I saw this bird on a BirdLife Australia weekday outing to Mullum Mullum. Yes, I know it is a common bird, but it was breathtakingly beautiful. Quite irrisitible. Again, this photo by Ken Haines is not the bird in question, but he's just as gorgeous!

SEPTEMBER: THICK-BILLED GRASSWREN race cowarie on Cowarie Station, a new race for me. This photo, which I've taken from HANZAB, volume 5, is not the right race. I couldn't find an illustration of race cowarie.

OCTOBER: GREAT CRESTED GREBE When I visited Lake Colac (on the way to Port Fairy) with Ken Haines, there were several pairs of Great Crested Grebes doing their mating dance. It was truly mesmerizing, something I'd heard about but had never witnessed before. This photo by Ken Haines is of the birds in question.

NOVEMBER: LARGE HAWK CUCKOO - lifer on Christmas Island. My trip to Christmas Island in 2023 was fun of course. Christmas Island is always fun. But, on the bird front, it was a little disappointing. I was delighted to score this lifer, quite unexpectedly, on a walk looking for a passerine someone had reported (which we did not see). I took this photo from a Lynx publication, the Birds of the Indonesian Archipelago.

DECEMBER: BAILLON'S CRAKE. Another Werribee irruption. This photo is by Ken Haines (what would I do without him?)

So here I am in 2024, full of hopeful expectations! I scored seven lifers last year (and the year before!) If I can get two this year, I'll be satisfied. Lifers are getting harder and harder to see! But, even if I don't see any at all, I'm sure I'll be able to achieve twelve lovely Birds of the Month to remember the year by.

WERRIBEE: VICTORIA'S TOP BIRDING SPOT

A Sydney birding friend once said: 'It's impossible to have a bad day at Werribee.' Of course he's right. It is, after all, Victoria's top birding spot.

My birding friend, Ken Haines, and I enjoyed a great day at Werribee last Thursday, persistent cold wind notwithstanding. We clocked up only 75 species, a little disappointing for summer I thought, but we had a most enjoyable day and saw some beautiful birds: what more do you want? The water levels were high just about everywhere, so there wasn't much suitable habitat for waders. We did see quite a few Sharp-tailed Sandpipers (see Ken's photo above, all photos on this page are from Ken) but other waders were all in small numbers. In fact we saw just one Red-capped Plover. There were a few stints and greenshanks and we saw some Marsh Sandpipers, but we had to look hard for Curlew Sandpipers. There were avocets and both kinds of stilts, Banded Stilts coming obligingly close to the car.

There were several Pied Oystercatchers, one with two half-grown chicks.

For Ken, the highlight of the day was a young Spotted Harrier.

For me, the highlight was a Baillon's Crake. I'm told they are easily seen in Victoria at the moment, but I always get a thrill out of seeing a crake, and Baillon's are always special.

We did quite well for ducks, with big numbers of Pink-eared Ducks and Australian Shelducks. The only duck we didn't see which I'd hoped for was a Freckled Duck. There were more White-necked Herons than usual, but we were really down on raptor numbers. We saw just one Brown Falcon as we were leaving, and only two Black Kites for the day. There was just one Black-shouldered Kite and very few Whistling Kites and hardly any Swamp Harriers. Ken may not appreciate my including this blurred photo of the young Spotted Harrier. The joke is that neither of us noticed the Brolgas behind him! We came home without Brolga on our list.

Thanks, Ken for a great day. And thanks for your terrific photos.

MY SIXTH TRIP TO THE COCOS/KEELING ISLANDS

After a successful week on Christmas Island, we flew to the Cocos/Keeling Islands feeling positive and optimistic. There was reportedly a Dark-sided Flycatcher somewhere on West Island and I was hoping to see the recently split Tibetan Sand Plover on South Island. This photo shows where we spent some time at Trannies Beach looking for an Asian Brown Flycatcher. I had good views, but others weren't so lucky.

The Northern Pintail (which I first saw on the remarkably successful December 2016 tour) has stayed around and bred with a Pacific Black Duck resulting in four hybrids, enough to confuse any birder. Thanks to one of our sharp-eyed birders we saw one hybrid on our first day on Cocos, as well as the Common Kingfisher I was so pleased to tick last January. I was surprised to see that this was a different bird sporting juvenile plumage. Of course there were Green Junglefowl everywhere on Cocos and several of the recently split Intermediate Egrets. We'd dipped on Asian Koels on Christmas and promptly rectified this deficit on Cocos. There are lots of Pacific Reef Herons (both white and grey morphs) and just a sprinkling of Western Reef Herons. Both Striated and Nankeen Night Herons are common. Lesser Frigatebirds are common too. I thought they outnumbered Great Frigatebirds significantly. There was just one Oriental Pratincole on the airport runway and I saw just one Cattle Egret too. I cannot confirm rumours of a Tree Pipit (a bird I'd seen here in December 2016). On the day we visited South Island for Saunders's Tern, I saw two Eurasian Curlews, lots of Whimbrels and Ruddy Turnstones and White Terns of course (these are abundant on Cocos) as well as two races of Greater Sand Plover: the nominate race which we see on mainland Australia, and race 'columbinus' with a much thinner bill, making it look like a Lesser Sand Plover. Sadly, I could not turn any of the sand plovers into Lesser of any sort. At the Transfer Station we saw a Common Redshank, a Black-tailed Godwit and a Grey-tailed Tattler, and lots of sticky slippery mud. Despite almost 11 hours of patient, hot, waiting and watching (2 hours on Wednesday, 3 on Thursday, over 2 on Saturday, 2 on Sunday and almost another 2 on Monday) I did not even glimpse the Dark-sided Flycatcher. This photo shows where I looked.

The contraption on the left is a cat trap, and I did see cat footprints on the sand here. Once, I saw something brown moving high in a bush and was momentarily excited, but it turned out to be a rat. So I came home with my record spoiled - I have no longer scored a lifer every time I've visited Cocos. I have a total of 28 lifers for 6 visits. Let's hope that next year is not quite so dry.

MY SEVENTH TRIP TO CHRISTMAS ISLAND

I had only 24 hours at home after my Northern Shriketit adventure before I was off to Christmas Island on a Richard Baxter tour. I'd arrived home from the Northern Territory late on Saturday night, spent Sunday worrying about what to pack and left for Perth early on Monday. At 3.30 on Tuesday afternoon I was disembarking at Christmas Island with nine fellow birders. I learnt immediately that the island was extremely dry and there were few vagrants. Of course I'd seen all the endemics on my first trip in 2005 and have been returning to Christmas Island ever since in the hope of seeing vagrants. Generally, I have not been disappointed. I have never visited without seeing at least one lifer, and have achieved a total of 26 on my previous six visits. This year I had heard that there was a Red-billed Tropicbird on Christmas in August and hoped that he'd stick around to greet me in November. Alas, he did not.

We didn't have a great deal of time for birding on Tuesday, the day we arrived, but we did manage to see (and identify!) both Christmas and Great Frigatebirds and both Red-footed and Brown Boobies as well as the spectacular Golden Bosunbird. No effort was required to add Christmas Imperial Pigeon and Island Thrush to the list and Eurasian Tree Sparrow is probably not worth mentioning. We saw White-breasted Waterhen (a bird I did not see at all on my first visit to the island, but which has become much more common since cat eradication has been taken seriously). They are not yet as common on Christmas as they are on Cocos, but they are very readily seen on Christmas nowadays. On Wednesday, again without effort, we added Christmas Swiftlets and White-eyes, then Java Sparrows and Abbott's Booby. This last entry brought my annual total to 400 birds, a target I always aim for, but which I do not always achieve. We also saw several goshawks (these days deemed to be just a race of Brown Goshawk) and Red-tailed and the white morph of White-tailed Tropicbirds (the same species as the aforementioned gorgeous Golden Bosunbird). On Thursday with a little effort we saw Red Junglefowl. Note that not every feral chook is a Red Junglefowl. We also saw Common Emerald Dove (a different species from the Pacific Emerald Dove on the mainland) and Lesser Frigatebird (not common on Christmas, easily seen on Cocos). Kestrels are common on Christmas Island. We saw Barn Swallows on the top of Phosphate Hill and Glossy Ibis on the oval. Oddly there is also an Australian White Ibis on Christmas at the moment - it's been resident for about eight months. This photo by Heather Alexander is me on the new impressive Margaret Knoll lookout.

On Thursday we did a boat trip to allow the more intrepid of our group to have a snorkel. They tell me the fish are colourful and stunning. I, on the other hand, sat on the boat and watched young boobies and frigatebirds swooping at the bright pink lure being dragged behind the boat. The next day some birders reported seeing a passerine with white wingbars (perhaps a Purple-backed Starling) so we all set off in search of it. We walked along an overgrown track admiring white-eyes and I thought we probably wouldn't be seeing any passerines. This was the same general area where I'd failed to see the Amur Stonechat last year, so I wasn't feeling very lucky. Suddenly everyone was looking up. A bird flying overhead looked as if it were going to land on a dead twig out in the open, but saw us at the last minute and changed its mind, twisting and flying off never to be seen again. Richard said it was a Large Hawk-Cuckoo (#842) so my record of always getting a lifer when I visit Christmas is still intact. Let's see if I can do the same on Cocos.

THE QUEST FOR THE NORTHERN SHRIKETIT

Some birds are easy. You just have to go to the right place at the right time and there they are. Try Island Thrush on Christmas Island or King Penguins on Macquarie Island. Some birds are difficult. I reckon seeing a Lewin's Rail or a Red-lored Whistler is always difficult. Some birds are virtually impossible. For many years, I felt that White-necked Petrels were in this category. But surely every vagrant counts as virtually impossible: there's nowhere you can go to see it; you just have to luck onto it or be fortunate enough to twitch it. While it does not qualify as 'virtually impossible', I'm here to tell you that the Northern Shriketit certainly isn't an easy bird.

When the IOC recently split the Crested Shriketit into the Eastern, Northern and Western, I found myself with two new birds to chase. I grew up with Eastern Shriketit. The first one I remember seeing was on a school excusion to the beach when I was 12 or 13 years old. Why the school saw fit to take us on an excursion to the beach I cannot imagine. But I remember the rest of the class was frolicking happily in the sea and I was wandering alone in the sand dunes quite bored, probably wishing I was back in the classroom doing algebra. Then I saw a breathtakingly beautiful bird - gorgeous bright yellow and black and white. A very striking bird in anyone's language. We called it an Eastern Shriketit in those days. Only later was it lumped to become the Crested Shriketit we've known until recently. Shriketits have been part of my life ever since. They were resident on my parents' property in north central Victoria. I remember sitting on a bench at Banyule catching up with birdy gossip with Richard Lloyn when his astute hearing picked up a shriketit above us tearing the bark from the trunk of a eucalypt. But I'd never seen either a Northern or a Western Shriketit. So now there were two new birds to chase, which was fine by me. I was planning to visit Christmas and Cocos in November, so I figured I could fit the Northern in beforehand and the Western on the way home. So it was that I found myself in Darwin with three other eager birds being escorted by Luke Paterson from Northern Territory Bird Specialists towards Katherine and the Central Arnhem Road. None of the shriketits has a conservation classification, but the Northern is sparsely distributed. We set off from Darwin at 6 a.m. on Wednesday. We had breakfast at Adelaide River and lunch in Katherine, and arrived at the spot where Northern Shriketit are sometimes seen by some select birders just before 4 p.m. It was hot, but we clambered out of the vehicle, eager with anticipation. We hadn't yet failed in our quest. Luke led us bush bashing to the north of the highway. There were few birds of any sort. I think we saw more wild donkeys than birds. We certainly saw more buffalo than birds. We did flush some Brown Quail, which sounded like horses snorting when they flew. We saw several Black-throated Treecreepers (both male and female) and a few Masked and Black-faced Woodswallows. Yellow-tinted Honeyeaters were numerous, but there was precious little else. At 6 o'clock we admitted defeat and returned to our motel, with not quite the enthusiastic optimism we had all exhibited at 6 o'clock that morning. We went spotlighting that night, targeting Chestnut-backed Buttonquail. It didn't occur to me not to join the group spotlighting, although I had assumed that we'd be looking for birds other than the buttonquail and I was surprised when Luke drove past a frogmouth without bothering to slow down or point it out. I guess noone was there to see a frogmouth. We didn't see any buttonquail either. It was a late night after an early start and we set off again at 5.30 the next morning, after having our sleep disturbed by heavy noisy rain in the night. Thursday was a new day and we greeted it with renewed optimism, telling ourselves that the rain would have freshened everything up and encouraged the shriketits to be more vocal and more visible. We left our Katherine motel at 5.30 and breakfasted at a roadside stop on Central Arnhem Road. We told each other that the water beside the road would encourage the birds. Then it started to rain again. Nevertheless by about 7 a.m. we were again looking for the shriketit, this time walking along the road rather than bush bashing. After about half an hour of this we looked a pathetic wet bedraggled bunch. Worse, there was no hint of shriketits. It was about then that I thought it had been a wasted trip and started wondering when it would be convenient for me to come back and try again. A Paperbark Flycatcher attacked a Sacred Kingfisher, but none of us thought it was worthy of mention. Quite undaunted, Luke left us in the rain and ran back to get the vehicle. We squelched aboard and Luke drove slowly, windows down, listening intently for the call of the shriketit that didn't come. After a while, we were out walking again, this time quite lacking in confidence. I must confess that I do not enjoy birding in the rain. I do not enjoy bush bashing in wet bush. I did my best not to be grumpy. Dutifully, we followed Luke, uncertain if it were all wasted effort. I don't remember how long it took. It cannot have been as long as my memory insists, but eventually, Luke heard a shriketit call. It was extremely faint and could have been quite a distance away. We all perked up immediately. Luke hurried towards the call and I did my best to keep up. Quite quickly he found the bird, a single male high in the canopy. We all saw it well; it was joined by a female. We followed the pair. The birds came down to eye level and we all had good looks, as this photo by the unforgettable Jim Sneddon attests.

It is always good to tick a new bird. It's especially good to tick a difficult bird, but it is perhaps even better to tick a bird when you have given up and accepted the trip was a failure and you'd have to try again some other time. Thank you, Luke! With the Northern Shriketit under my belt, I set off happily for Christmas and Cocos Islands, then, on the way home, I paused in Perth to try for the Western Shriketit. That was supposed to be a much easier bird. I had a lovely day in the bush with Des Hume, but, alas! there was no Western Shriketit for me. I should be pleased to have an excuse to visit the south west again, but I'm afraid I am simply frustrated that I have not ticked a supposedly easy bird!