Agile Wallabies

Agile Wallabies - Northern Territory, Australia. August 2011

As I lounged in a camp chair, relishing a gin and tonic, the bush hummed with Down Under insects; Agile Wallabies hopped and grazed nearby; Flying-foxes squabbled noisily, and then dropped out of the trees, flying off in search of fruiting trees.  

Before JP and I left for the Northern Territory or Top End of Australia, we got field guides—guides to the birds, the mammals, and the plants.  Looking through A Field Guide to the Mammals of Australia, there were many in the “Ooh, I’d like to see that” and “Ahh, what a wonderful animal” category.  Not only were they physically appealing, but have exotic and outlandish common names: Quoll, Numbat, Kowari, Mulgara, Ampurta, Dibbler, Kaluta, Kultarr, Dunnart, Bandicoot, Bilby, Wombat, Cuscus, Bettong, Woylie, and Potoroo.  More mundane, but recognizable were the Kangaroos, Wallabies, Possums, and Bats. As it turns out, most of these are variously secretive, tiny, arboreal, nocturnal, rare or some combination of all of the above and their distribution is very restricted. They show up as a minuscule dot on the distribution map of Australia in the guide and that dot usually isn’t in the Northern Territories.

So, realistically what might we see and see well? As it turns out the commonest mammals were Agile Wallabies (Macropus agilis) and Flying-foxes.  We saw Agile Wallabies on our first day in Darwin and regularly after that in and around our campsites in the National Parks of Kakadu, Katherine/Nitmiluk, and Litchfield.  

 Wallaby Lounging in our Camp

Mother with Joey Safe in the Pouch

Out of the Pouch

Profiles

Up and Away

Kagu Connection 2011

Kagu/Cagou Connection

Kagu!

2001 Somewhere between Islands in the Subantarctic Ocean

              The Subantarctic is a region in the southern hemisphere, located immediately north of the Antarctic region. This translates roughly to a latitude between 46 degrees and 60 degrees south of the Equator. The subantarctic region includes many island in the southern parts of the Indian Ocean, Atlantic Ocean and Pacific Ocean, especially those situated north of the Antarctic Convergence.

Ten years ago, in the of Spring 2001, I was having a glass of wine before dinner in Enderby's Bar on board the Akademik Shokalskiy, a Russian research vessel turned tourist ship out of New Zealand. We were plowing through heavy seas on our way to one of the seven Subantarctic Islands of New Zealand in search of birds on land, birds at sea, and any marine mammal that surfaced near the ship or lounged on the shore.
Rough Seas winnow out the queasy, and there weren't many people enjoying a drink. I struck up a conversation with a birder from England. It turned out to be a memorable talk.
He expounded, "There are--how many bird species in the world--8000+? Well, it occurred to me that I was never going to be able to see all of them and I've been birding a long time. In analyzing my list, however, I came to realize that I have seen representatives from many of the bird families. So I was struck by the bright idea of seeing all the families - not all the birds - just all the families. That gets my number down to 235 -- that should be easy, eh? Much more do-able. Brilliant, eh? That's the idea behind my next trip. After this voyage, I'm off to New Caledonia to see a Kagu and add a family to my list. Since they only occur on New Caledonia, one needs must go there."
I'd never heard of a Kagu and was fuzzy where in the world New Caledonia was.
He explained, "Kagus are those rare birds having a family all to themselves - the proverbial monotypic family. The family is Rhynochetidae and the Kagu resides there in solitary splendor with no living related genera or species. Fortunately, they are fairly easy to see or so they say. New Caledonia is a group of islands in the Pacific east of Australia."


I sipped my wine and said,"Now that is truly cool" and tucked the idea away, thinking, "I'd like to see a Kagu."


September 2011 Parc de la Rivière Bleue, New Caledonia
Parc de la Rivière Bleue is a national park in the southern end of Grande Terre island of New Caledonia and which provides safe haven for the very endangered Kagu (Cagou in French).

Everything we'd read and heard assured us that all we had to do was turn up in New Caledonia, drive to Parc de la Rivière Bleue, stroll along the road through the forest - et voilà - Le Cagou. So-o-o, we took our time the first day and as British birders say, "we dipped," or in other words, we struck out; we got to the Park too late in the day and there were no Kagus to be seen. In fact after saying "bon jour" and relating, "nous voulons voir un Cagou,"we were told, "Cagous are now nesting and tending their one chick. They have only the one, are very protective and are now difficult to see." Great.

There was a picture of a Kagu displaying on the sign at the park entrance, as well as a helpful one in the forest identifying the spot where they are to be seen. Not so that first day.

Red-throated Parrotfinch

Well there were other birds about and we saw a little stunner as we left - a flash of red and green called a Red-throated Parrotfinch.



We'd traveled a long way, so we weren't giving up. The second day we were on the road well before dawn and headed toward the park. We were the first ones in, and the shuttle driver (no private cars in the park proper) dropped us at the beginning of the moist forest corridor.

KESD and the Kagu

We strolled the main road, detouring deeper into the forest on little offshoot paths. On one such path we heard a long, menacing hiss. I stopped, looked to the right and there was a Kagu standing right next to JP.

He/she (there is little sexual dimorphism - so "he" from now on) was scratching in the litter for snails and earthworms. He seemed fairly unconcerned by our presence unless we got too close, then he would move off a bit, sometimes with amazing speed and a long stride, but he didn't bolt. They are flightless and rely on running to escape predators.
He foraged and tossed leaves looking for succulent bits.

It took ten years to complete the Kagu connection. Thanks for the tip; well worth the wait.
Images, still and video, by Julian and KES Donahue.


For more about the Kagu: http://www.sandiegozoo.org/animalbytes/t-kagu.html

"On the Edge of Ruin"

 "These hobbits will sit on the edge of ruin and discuss the pleasures of the table, or the small doings of their fathers, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers, and remoter cousins to ninth degree…" Gandalf. The Two Towers, J. R. R. Tolkien

Almost everywhere we go, the remaining natural areas--the native habitats-- are circumscribed by destruction, monocultures, hard scrabble farmers, sprawl from cities, shanty towns filled with people looking for a better way of life. People everywhere, way too many people, doing what people do: cutting down trees, plowing the land, fouling the water, killing wildlife to eat, or for their skins, or for their hearts, gallbladders, or whatever someone in China or wherever thinks will cure their impotence, prove their masculinity, improve their sex appeal or cure some ailment or other. It just goes on and on, and all of this is just us beavering around, doing what we do. 

Our latest trip to Brazil brought home the juxtaposition. We visited two wild areas. The contrast between the wild and the "tamed" is stark; wild is complex and tamed is boring. Cristalino Jungle Lodge is located in the Southern Amazon, and consistis of 46 square miles of private, protected, pristine jungle; a clean, black water river runs through it and the region is recognized as an important area of biodiversity. The jumping off point for Cristalino is the 40 year old city of Alta Floresta. It used to be surrounded by forest all the way to the river; now it sits amid over-grazed ranches and poorly producing little farms. It takes about an hour to reach the edge of the forest; one moment the sun was blasting down and in the next trees overhanging the road filtered it into dappled shade.

Our other destination was Emas National Park located in south-central Brazil. The habitat is called Cerrado and is one of the world's oldest and most diverse tropical ecosystems.  It is a savannah, a grassland scattered with red-earth termite mounds; a clear, green river with a gallery forest  provides a habitat for its own flora and fauna. From Campo Grande, it takes 5 hours to reach Chapadão do Céu, the only city with a hotel close to the Park.  The area around Campo Grande was converted to ranching and farming long enough ago that it has lost its raw edge. The land around Chapadão do Céu, on the other hand, is surrounded by intensive farming for biofuels--sugar cane, corn, sorghum, and soy. After the blacktop road ends on the way to the Park, everything is coated with red dust. Huge otherworldly trucks ply the roads creating huge dust storms. It is hot, dusty, red, ugly. And it is planted right up to the edge of the Park. Stark contrasts and the ugly face of biofuels.

Granted, these and other marvelous natural areas seem big, especially if you are on foot or driving slowly on rutted, dirt roads. But make no mistake, these places are sanctuaries, preserves, reserves, and they are circumscribed by monocultures created by people. Outside the enclaves, the diversity is gone; the plants are gone; and the animals are gone; teeming life is gone. It doesn't matter who does it -- individual people nibbling and gnawing or corporations gobbling; the result is the same, only the rate changes.

So here we are sitting on the edge of ruin, refusing to deal with the single most important factor in the health of the earth, the human population that is about to hit 7 billion. Quibbling, caviling about - you name it - discussing the inconsequential.

Robinson Jeffers took comfort in enduring nature, writing:

         "I know that tomorrow or next year or in twenty years

           I shall not see these things--but it does not matter, it

                  does not hurt;

          They will be here..."  From: Their Beauty Has More Meaning

I too thought this way once. Now I very much doubt it. 

Sweat and Butterflies

Cristalino Jungle Lodge - Day to Day

Back from a tramp through the jungle, I usually had just enough time to get out of my sweaty clothes, rinse off in the outdoor shower, and pull on shorts, t-shirt, sandals for lunch. Our outdoor shower was in a small private garden, leafy with plants, floored with smooth pebble-impressed concrete pavers. It was frequented by lizards and butterflies enjoying the water from the shower.  I took to undressing outside after I found way too many ticks. Off with the boots, socks, ankle support, long sleeved shirt, t-shirt, pants, bra and briefs - all left outdoors - hangable clothes on the clothes line, footwear spread out in the sun.  I figured the ticks would abandon all hope and flee.

The afternoon excursion usually started at 3:30 with hope that the mid-day heat would be waning. Stepping into the little secret garden was a treat.  Butterflies fluttered up momentarily from my socks, shoelaces, pants, t-shirt, but salty sweat is delectable and they soon settle back, until I shook them off in a cloud of yellow and brown.

Cristalino Jungle Lodge, Brazil 2011

Sketches of the Jungle--Prose and Poetry

Five days in the jungle, experiencing the forest, the heat, the humidity, the sounds from everywhere; we walked, we climbed, we sweated, we stood. We relaxed on the river; the sparkle in our eyes, the cool air, the little thrill of baby rapids, and the surprise at the edge of the forest, the silhouettes of macaws and toucans crossing the river, otters diving amongst the roots on the river bank, primates in the high tree tops, and curassows on the shore.

Our airy, screened bungalow featured an outdoor shower with cool water, an indoor shower with lots of hot water, a hammock on the porch and a fan to stir the air.  Just before napping, my eyes are drawn to butterflies on the outside of the screen, the breeze ruffling the tree tops - always the possibility of...something. Lulled and tired, I fall asleep.

Prose seems too prosaic a way to describe it all.

Cristalino Lunes

Tropical alarm clocks

Howlers boom in the morning

we are here

Early morning river
chilly mist rising, curling, wreathing
soon burned off

A yellow patch
rising from the shore
in a cloud

Sulphur butterflies Pierids
puddling in the damp sand
essential vitamins minerals

Morphos-tongues out

wings flicking brown to blue

on monkey shit

Neotropical river otter
eating fish from the river
glances at us

Herd of larvae
setae waving they sweep around
one following t'other

Lizard nose down

matched to the tree bole

alert to danger

Songs on high
birds flit in the canopy
almost impossible



A pattern original
the military copies the splatter
easy for trees

In the west

light slants from the sun

creating long shadows

Into the canopy

up and up and up again

visiting the birds

High foliage shaking
Capuchins, Spider monkeys, Howlers brachiate
at home high

 

In the tangle

long legs, sharp beak poised

Sunbittern to strike








                                   Red-tailed boa
                                   stretched out a limb motionless

                                   almost as one

Dark forms fly

Birds cross the river silhouetted

outlined shapes distinctive

Late afternoon fatigue

relaxing feet up on gunnel

beer in hand

Doing the list
what did we see today?

perfect complement-Caipirinha

A healthy jungle
open, leafy, shady, tall, diverse
alive and living

Good food, beer, birds, endless possibilities for surprise--what more could you ask?

Cristalino Jungle Lodge is reached via the city of Alta Floresta in the state of Mato Grosso, Brazil. There are daily flights from Cuiaba, the state capital, to Alta Floresta. The lodge is only accessible by boat. After the arrival in Alta Floresta, there is a 1/2 hour boat ride.

Train to Sapa, Vietnam-Dream Sleeping

Vietnam, 2008

Sometimes, if I am not falling asleep, I travel into the past and imagine sleeping in a special place—a tent nestled high among the rocks in Erongo, Namibia; a cabin in a stationary train car in the wilderness of Hudson Bay with a window looking out at the white on white of an arctic fox, pausing before trotting off into the blowing snow. Trains rattling through the night create a special experience—rocked to sleep by clattering over the rails. Sleeping on the overnight train to Sapa has lingered in my mind and I like to slip back there now and then.

Vietnam Railways (Photo: MAS)

Our car - the Victoria Express

MAS enjoying herself in the top berth.

Wheeling our luggage along the platform, the lights of the Victoria Express welcomed us. Boarding the carriage, we found our cabin with its 4 berths—two up and two down. Each berth was covered with a white duvet and on each pillow, a hand-woven drawstring bag with small bottle of water, and other little amenities. The bathroom at the end of the car was small but elegant.

KESD lounging in her lower
 berth with a beer. (Photo: MAS)

JPD stowing his gear.

The porter provided nightcaps of our choice—Tiger beer for me and Royal Crown for the top bunk.

As the train pulled out of Hanoi, we enjoyed secretive, flashing views of the world—motorbikes lined up at intersections waiting for the train to pass, glimpses into small backyard gardens, views into living and bedrooms—gone instantly—but lingering in the mind as a prequel to sleep. Each berth a pool of light in the black; one by one the berth lights go out. Sleep is easy, the duvet light but warm and should you wake momentarily, the view and the motion lull you back to sleep for the next 8 hours.

Details: It is a 8.5 hour trip from Hanoi to Lao Cai, which is the jumping off point for Sapa. The train leaves at night and arrives in the early morning.

“The Victoria Express Train is exclusively reserved for Victoria Sapa Resort & Spa's in-house guests. To make a reservation for the Victoria Express Train, you need to complete a Victoria Express Train reservation form, that is part of the Victoria Sapa Resort & Spa’s rooms reservation form.” (http://www.victoriahotels-asia.com/eng/hotels-in-vietnam/sapa-resort-spa/victoria-express-train)

Erongo: (http://www.erongowilderness-namibia.com/index.php)

Hudson Bay: (http://www.churchillnaturetours.com/tours/bears.html)

http://www.greatwhitebeartours.com/tundra_lodge.php

Fish Fish Fish

Yellow Tangs (Zebrasoma flavescens)
Note the white "tang" or prong by caudal keel.

May 2011. Big Island of Hawaii.

Gills. I want gills, webbed fingers, and toes. I want to see the watery world with naked clear eyes.  I want to glide, dive, dart in pellucid waters and pulse with the surge.  I want to sleek through the water and ride a monster wave toward the rocks, peer out of the crystalline face of the wave, twirl out, avoiding the looming coral heads. Where is Merlin when you need him?

Wishful, fantasy thinking aside, I relax in the warm waters, enjoying the surge, spread-eagle on the surface, breathing through my snorkel and peering down through my mask into the wonder of the Big Island’s Two Step snorkeling site on Honaunau Bay. 

Schools, herds of Yellow Tangs snap into focus, 
grazing the wall of the underwater cliff and the coral prairies.

Orangespine unicornfish (Naso lituratus)

I float, a voyeur in a world of saltwater.  Only a membrane of skin separates me from the surrounding water – we share the same salinity – water and blood.

Moorish Idol (Zanclus cornutus)

Arc-eye hawkfish (Paracirrhites arcatus)

Whitebar surgeonfish (Acanthurus leucoparieus)

Redfin butterflyfish (Chaetodon trifasciatus)

A new underwater casing for J.P.’s Sony camera allowed him to take these images of fish.   Some disappeared in the flick of a tail.

Photos by Julian Donahue.