Puerto Rico - Dash is Done...

Puerto Rican Tody

The 'Dash' is done. Our Puerto Rico Endemic Dash tour consisted of 5 days and 4 nights of birding all around the island looking for the endemics and specialties.

Of the 16 (current number) of endemics -- those birds found only on Puerto Rico -- we saw 13 and heard two others. The Puerto Rican Tody, although common, is typically one of the most desired of the endemics... its diminutive size and bright colors make it a quick favorite.

What did we miss this trip? The Puerto Rican Parrot. With only 30-40 wild birds left, it is never expected to be seen... though we visit a couple of their known haunts. We heard the Puerto Rican Screech Owl on several occasions, but it was never accessible to our spotlight as it perched behind a building on a steep hillside in one location, and refused to come out into the wind and rain in another location.

The Puerto Rican Nightjars were seemingly inactive in the evening, not offering any sign that they were there... maybe due to the bright full moon? However, in the early morning twilight we heard a few of them (along with a third uncooperative screech owl) but only one nightjar offered a brief silhouette to one person's peripheral vision, not enough to count.

The Todies, however, cooperated on numerous occasions, offering their easily recognized "bint" call in the open forests throughout Puerto Rico.

photos and text © Kevin Loughlin

Puerto Rico - Day 3 -- a great bird!

Antillean Euphonia

A splash of color entered the nearly naked tree this morning, after a frustratingly long wait for the cook to arrive to make breakfast. However, had we left any early we would have missed this wonderful addition to our list!

Although the Antillean Euphonia is not a Puerto Rico endemic, it is still a prized bird on any trip. Vibrant and active, it seems to leave a tracer of color as it flits from bromeliad to bromeliad.

text and photo © Kevin Loughlin

Puerto Rico - Day 2's best photo!

Puerto Rican Woodpecker

We added quite a few more endemics to our list today, including this very cooperative Puerto Rican Woodpecker who was excavating a nest in a power line pole at Cambalache Forest near the northwest coast.

From Cambalache we drove southwest to Maricao and saw the Elfin-woods Warbler, our target for the area. They were not as cooperative for photos, however, and all I got was a wing in one shot and an eye and tail in another. Oh well, I'll be back again next week to try again!

text and photo © Kevin Loughlin

Greetings from Puerto Rico!

Puerto Rican Spindalis, Puerto Rico's National Bird

Our group arrived in Puerto Rico today for our 5-day Endemic Dash tour and started off with this beautiful splash of color in the waning daylight hours. We spent an hour at Laguna Tortuguero and already have 3 of our 16 target endemic birds and a bunch of the Caribbean specialties. We should get 6 or 7 more endemics by mid-day tomorrow!

Our blog has been quite silent lately as both Adrian and I have been so active in not only trip preparation (Adrian is off to Africa again on Friday!) but also the creation of a brand new Wildside Nature Tours brochure. Our biggest ever -- 24 pages of trip info and photos from around the globe!

It is late here and we need to get up at 5:00AM... so I hope to blog a few more times while here, then post more images upon my return!

text and photo © Kevin Loughlin

KENYA: Did that Bird really say that?

The distinctive high pitched yelps of African Fish Eagles echoing across lakes are often deemed the ‘Voice of Africa.” However, I find that Ring-necked Doves (below) are a far better candidate for this distinction. The call of this widespread species found throughout the dry savanna is a common background sound when on safari. Indeed, just about every television program about East African wildlife features the constant “work haar-der, work haar-der” calls of this dove as a background soundtrack.

Is the Ring-necked Dove really encouraging us to be more productive?! Of course we’ll never know, but we’ve developed such phrases as “work harder, work harder” to help us remember the bird’s call. This process of developing phrases to interpret sounds is called mnemonics, and can be useful in remembering and identifying species.

Doves and cuckoos seem to top the mnemonic list in this part of the world, with the Emerald Spotted Wood-Dove (above) saying the rather long, drawn-out, mournful phrase, “my mother, my father, my brother, my sister are all dead, what am I going to do, do, do, do.....” And the Red-eyed Dove proudly exclaims over and over, “I am a Red-eyed Dove, I am a Red-eyed Dove.” Yes, we heard you the first time!

While mnemonics may be helpful in learning calls, context is just as important. Inflections, accents and syllables are important in understanding the correct bird sound, and these things are difficult to convey in writing. Often there are several different mnemonic phrases that apply to the same bird call, underscoring the fact that we each hear something different, even when listening to the same bird! Location, habitat and season also play a role in assigning the right bird to the right call. But that’s subject for another story.

Hearing the four-noted “Hel-lo Ju-dy!”, whistled from the high canopy, draws attention to the African Emerald Cuckoo. This may be the only clue to this stunning but elusive species. It pays to learn the phrases, particularly for forest birds, which are more easily heard than seen. Maybe “you can’t find me” would be more appropriate for this cuckoo!

One of my favorites is the Red-chested Cuckoo (above), ever optimistic in his emphatic, three-note call “it will rain,” proclaimed loudly to anyone within earshot, day and night. Eventually I’m sure his prediction will come true!

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: Singing Ants

More dudu for you. In case you were wondering what this is about, dudu is the Swahili word for insect.

As we walked the main sandy track that leads through the Brachystegia woodlands of Arabuko-Sokoke we were mindful of ants. In particular the Safari Ants that can be seen in large groups crossing the sand on well-defined paths (above). Luckily we would not see many of these dudus that inflict a painful bite!

However, we did come across a group of about 200 large black ants walking in a column down the track. This small party was likely on a mission to find termites, which they not only consume, but also ‘capture’ to bring back to their colony to work for them! These ants exhibit a rather unique behavior when agitated. This was best demonstrated to us by our guide, Willy, when he blew on them. The line of marching ants loosely dispersed (above) in all directions and to our amazement began to hum.

They get their local name, the Singing Ant, from this sound, which does not come from singing, but from vibrating parts of their body. The sound is a means of communicating amongst themselves.

Within a minute the performance was over, and we watched the group restore itself back into their original column.

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: The Mombassa Train

African Giant Millipedes are known locally as Mombassa Trains, after their locomotion movement, as opposed to their speed. Though not having had the experience of traveling by train in East Africa, I can not vouch for that for certainty.

These millipedes are very common along the coast and we would come across many, either on the grounds of our lodgings, mainly at night, or while out birding in the Arabuko-Sokoke forest. There are two kinds, red-legged and brown-legged, and both spend a great deal of time in moist shaded areas amongst the leaf litter feeding on decaying plant matter - nature composters.

Millipede means ‘a thousand legs’ but in reality they have far fewer - two pairs of legs on each of their 60 body segments. Believed to be the world's largest millipede, they can reach a length of 12 inches, and though harmless, they do have several self defense mechanisms. When touched they will curl themselves up into a tight spiral, and if they still feel threatened they secrete a noxious liquid, which most creatures find unpalatable - with the exception of the African Civet.

A confiding seven-inch red-legged millipede takes on the look of a colorful bracelet

By contrast, the carnivorous Centipede, meaning ‘a hundred legs‘, has only a pair of legs on each of their segments. In spite of their name they can have several hundred legs - more than the ‘thousand-legged’ variety!

photo © adrian binns

KENYA: Crab Plovers at Mida Creek

There are few places in the world where you can watch the tide come in at an extraordinary rate, advancing before your eyes. The mangrove-lined Mida Creek (above) is one of them, linked to the Indian Ocean just south of Malindi on coastal Kenya. The incoming tide appeared deceptively far away, but our guide, Willie, hurries Todd and I along the vast expanse of exposed mudflats to maximize our time with the feeding shorebirds.

Excitedly we set up our scopes and scanned the shallow waters along the tidal mudflats. We admire godwits, sand-plovers, stints, greenshanks, egrets, terns and a distant grouping of pink flamingos, but we are really after one of the world’s most unique shorebirds, the Crab Plover. They are not hard to spot, and soon we have half a dozen in our sights.

Crab Plovers (above) are about the size of an avocet but bulkier, white-and-black birds with long, blue-grey legs. While they may resemble a large plover, it is likely that they are more closely related to pratincoles and coursers.

Their heavy, black, pointed bill, similar to that of a tern, is specialized for eating crabs. Judging by the holes in the mud and the amount of crabs visible, there is ample supply of food here for them. Males sport a longer, heavier bill than females. We watch one bird walking towards us, patiently stalking, just taking its time, pausing every so often as it sees a crab make a quick get away.

Crab Plovers are unique among shorebirds in that they nest underground in sandbanks, in burrows about five feet in length and at least a foot deep. Unlike other shorebirds who produce a clutch of well camouflaged eggs, Crab Plovers lay only one white egg. While most wader chicks are precocial, Crab Plover chicks are born unable to walk, and stay in their burrows until they are able to do so, totally dependent upon their parents to care for them even after fledging.

Crab Plovers are one of only two shorebirds (pratincoles being the other) that breeds in colonies. Only about a dozen breeding sites are known in the Middle East around the Red Sea. They spend their winters, August through April, along the East African coast, and Mida Creek is one of the best and easiest locations to see them.

With a population of about 50,000 individuals dependent upon relatively few breeding areas and fragile coastal habitat, Crab Plovers are considered a globally endangered species.

The tide rises rapidly before our eyes, flooding the mudflats and forcing the birds to fly further up the creek to higher ground. We watch the last of them fly away, and then turn to the elevated boardwalk to make our way back.

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: The Nimble Klipspringer

We were following a twisting circuit along the Chaimu lava flow when we sighted a lone Klipspringer poised in the open. It stood like a statuesque sentinel against the blue sky. For a moment I thought it was sculpted right out of the gray and brown folds of rock upon which it stood, as its coat matched so perfectly. Could its cryptic coloration be an adaptation to the color of the lava flow? Though there is considerable regional variation in color amongst Klipspringers, we discussed this evolutionary possibility.

Klipspringers are often seen in pairs though it can be difficult to identify their gender. We assumed that this was a male since it had two short spiked horns, but females of this particular East African race can also have horns. When it moved from its exposed post, dropping down behind a ridge of lava and joining its mate, we realized that it was probably a female, as its mate had longer spiked horns.

Amongst antelopes, the small Klipspringer has several unique adaptations that enable it to live on rocky outcroppings, though they will occasionally leave the rocks to feed on freshly sprouted grasses. They do not need to drink, getting enough moisture from evergreen shrubs, euphorbias, aloe, sanservieria, fruits and berries upon which they feed.

As one can see from the upper photograph, their front legs form an almost straight line leading to very small, stiletto-like truncated hooves. These are rubbery underneath ensuring that they do not slip as they jump from rock to rock.

Unlike other antelopes, Klipspringers have forward-facing eyes, as opposed to eyes on the sides of their head. This allows them to have binocular vision, much like we do, in order to better judge distances. Their coat is very thick, containing brittle hairs that are hollow and loose. This anti-predator adaptation means that predators can easily lose their grip on the loose hairs. The thick coat and hollow hairs have the added function of insulating the animal against extreme heat and cold, as harsh climates are common on hilly terrains. We watched this pair gazing at us until they jumped nimbly out of sight.

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: Looking for a Free Meal

Taking the only passable track through the Yellow-bark Acacia woodland we arrive at the northern end of Lake Nakuru in time to see an African Fish Eagle (above) eating a Hamerkop that it had recently killed.

Suddenly a Tawny Eagle (above) swooped in and displaced the Fish Eagle as it was ripping flesh from its prey. Gripping the carcass firmly in its talons, the Tawny was having difficulty getting airborne. Instead, it dragged its meal further away from us and into a grassy area with low vegetation.

We watched as a group of Marabou Storks (above) that had been standing around in the freshwater channel began a slow methodical walk out of the water and towards the Tawny Eagle. Intent on getting a bit of free meal, they surrounded the eagle but never made an outright attempt to take over. Instead, the Marabous squabbled amongst themselves and rotated around, occasionally venturing to within a foot or two of the eagle. This was a waiting game that I’ve seen many times before. The storks moped around, waiting for one of their group to make the first brave move, or take the opportunity for all of them to lunge in and take a piece before the eagle turned on them. They had more patience than we did.....we moved on without knowing the final outcome.

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: Baboons, A Family Affair

Baboons provide an endless source of entertainment and intrigue, no matter how often we observe them. The local troop of about 60 individuals is no exception. We find them in their usual spot, along the narrow ford across the dry river bed not far from the Samburu Serena lodge, relaxing and grooming each other before heading off to forage.

The interaction of Olive Baboons reveals a complex and fascinating social structure among these clever primates. Troops include several dominant males and numerous females, along with their offspring of many ages. Females remain constant, whereas males leave to establish their own troop, take over other troops, or be replaced by younger, stronger males.

Multiple family units exist within the troop, with several generations living all together. There is a definite hierarchy amongst the baboons, which becomes clearer after much patient observation. The animals spend a lot of time grooming each other, an activity that strengthens relationships between individuals, reinforces family cohesion and affirms hierarchal positions. It also has the obvious benefit of removing potentially harmful ticks and parasites from the animals. Lower rank individuals groom higher ranking ones; females groom infants and other females; and dominant males tend to be on the receiving end of grooming.

We observed a variety of different grooming behaviors. One groomer was intently and meticulously searching the fur of another seemingly unconcerned individual. Another lay on its back in extreme relaxation, arms and legs spread wide, while being attended. Others were huddled together as a small family unit that included a tiny, hairless baby. Most of this group focused their efforts on the mature female. The baby was not involved in the grooming, but each time it tried to wander away, one of the baboons would reach out a long arm and pull it back to the others.

Young baboons abound with energy, keeping themselves – and us – highly entertained with their inquisitive antics. They dart up tree trunks, roll off of limbs, poke at their friends, jump on adults, inspect invisible bugs and constantly race around.

Squabbles and skirmishes occur frequently among baboons. The scene before us was interrupted by ear-splitting shrieks as two baboons chased each other at top speed. This could be male baboons competing aggressively for females, or the dominant male doling out discipline to an unruly troop member.

During all this activity, a mature male was posted to serve as lookout and guardian from predators or other males who may want to take-over the troop.

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: The Keekorok Lodge Oasis

Within the vast grasslands of the Maasai Mara lies the picturesque Keekorok Lodge, an oasis for travelers of every kind. Here, we enjoyed a lovely walk around the gardens on our last morning in the Mara. The ornamental flowering shrubs and thorny acacias attracted many winged visitors to delight us.

There was no shortage of sunbirds busily foraging amongst the acacias, including Scarlet-chested, Variable, Collared, a surprise Golden-winged, and numerous Marico Sunbirds (above) who are busy chasing the others away from their favorite nectar source.

A sweep of the manicured lawns reveals several of Africa’s 30-plus stunning, iridescent Starling species: Hildebrandt’s (above), the similar looking Superb, Greater Blue-eared, and the relatively plainer long-tailed Rueppell’s Starling. All are vocal though the rich song of the Hildebrandt’s draws the most attention.

Several African Hoopoes walk about the grounds until they find a patch of soft sandy soil in which to probe their long, thin, curved bills, looking for invertebrates. Gaudy-colored Purple Grenadiers (above) drop to the ground from nearby shrubbery in search of small seeds, while a Swahali Sparrow or two appear to have already found a good food patch. In larger numbers, the confiding small Grey-headed Social Weavers prefer the short cropped lawn grass where they are joined by a Speckled-fronted Weaver. Little Bee-eaters perched low to the ground, making frequent short forays to catch insects. Other avian beauties included Yellow Bishop, African Grey Flycatcher, African Paradise Flycatcher, White-bellied Canary, Eastern Black-headed Oriole, Tawny-flanked Prinia, and Meyer’s Parrot.

Overhead, a Woolly-necked Stork slowly glided its way towards the nearby hippo pool, where the only other waterbird in residence was a Water Thick-knee.

A small group of five Banded Mongoose (above) caught our attention on the garden edges. Foraging through the grounds in search of anything small that would be a meal, one paused to urinate. The others immediately piled over each other to use that single spot latrine, which indicates territory marking.

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: A Python Beckons

We pull out of Ndololoo Camp before 7:00 am, eager for our morning game drive in Tsavo East National Park. Peter has already been listening to the banter over the radio provided by other drivers that left before breakfast. Within several hundred meters the pace of our vehicle picks up, and we realize there must be something to chase. While it is great fun to find our own good mammals, there is a certain excitement when going after a reported sighting. Peter does not usually let-on the reason, as I guess he doesn’t want to disappoint us in case it’s gone when we arrive. And maybe he likes to dole-out surprises. But this time he did say one word, “Python.”

Where? How far? How big? we asked. All we got as a response was, “Kanderi.” The large swamp located a couple kilometers east of our tented camp. Nearly all the lions that I had been hearing in the night seemed to be coming from that direction, and indeed, safari drivers had been checking (unsuccessfully) for a pride. I recalled a story I was told several years ago by someone who went on a safari and witnessed an unfortunate Impala in the grips of an African Rock Python, and the several hours it took to devour the antelope. Our hearts raced with anticipation.

We arrived at Kanderi to find it devoid of the wildlife show that makes this swamp one of Tsavo’s main attractions. The surrounding grasses and shrubs were lush and green from recent rains, but no animals in sight. We see two vehicles parked and the occupants all looking in a singular direction. Visions of a huge python laying across the swamp is what we wanted. We follow their gaze. Yes, there it is. Large and dark, coiled up about 50 meters away, it was glistening in the sun, undoubtedly from having recently been in the water.

We focused our binoculars on the dark object, and see only a tire. Slightly submerged, with distinctive treads and a slash, the tire lay motionless. Acknowledged as such, Todd continues to scan, determined to find the python that everyone was looking at. Double checking the direction that the others are looking, following pointing fingers, and the aim of clicking cameras, Todd insists that the python has to be somewhere.

I tell Todd that most likely the others were looking at the tire and thought it was a python. Todd is skeptical and wants to make sure that the biggest snake he has ever seen is not going to elude him. The two vehicles drive away before I get a chance to question them, presumably thrilled to add a totally unexpected reptile to their already-incredible safari experience. Soon another vehicle arrives at the scene. It’s not long before it appears that they have found the reptile. Wanting a better look, they pull around in front of us. Todd continues to scan intently, while I mention that these people are looking in the direction of the tire. Are they really thinking that….? We check again, to be certain it is a tire. It is.

Peter decides we have had enough and as he moves on, we pause so that I can ask the four gentlemen in the other vehicle, “What are you looking at?” “A Python”, a Brit replies. “Where?” “Right there.” He points in the direction of the dark object that we have been studying carefully for the last ten minutes, the one with a bit of sidewall missing and threads from the tread showing. “Where is the Python in relation to the tire?” I inquire. I hear him relay this information to his companions. Undoubtedly, they were disappointed to miss the giant snake that was the highlight of many people’s morning game drive in the Kanderi Swamp!

all photos © adrian binns

KENYA: Dawn Chorus at Ndololoo

Tented camp facilities provide a unique and precious experience on safari. There’s nothing quite like hearing the sounds of the bush in the middle of the night – lions roaring, zebras barking or owls hooting – with only canvas walls between yourself and the darkness.

A small watering hole next to our camp still attracted many creatures, even though recent rains meant the animals could now find water from other sources. At 1:10 am, I was awoken by the sound of an elephant’s trunk swishing back and forth in the water as it drank from the watering hole. Straining to hear any other sounds, I fell asleep. A few hours later, a little after 4:00 am, I was awoken again, this time by lions. They were not that close, more likely near the Kanderi Swamp that stretched out to the east of the camp. I heard the classic deep ‘huuh- huuh-huuh” that males give to make contact with the rest of his pride, sending shivers down my spine. A Ring-necked Dove was also calling “work harder, work harder” the ubiquitous sound of the African savannah. I heard a few calls from an African Scops Owl, a Pearl-spotted Owlet, then Slender-tailed Nightjar before they went silent.

I crept outside hoping to glimpse something coming in for a drink, even a silhouette in the moonlight. Nothing showed, but the dawn chorus began to build. I sat on a chair outside the tent to listen.

I heard “cuc-koo, cuc-koo”, the call of a Common Cuckoo, a familiar sound from my childhood. I was surprised, since I never expected them to call on the wintering grounds. A White-browed Coucal and a White-browed Scrub Robin announced that they were awake. Parrot-billed Sparrow and the bubbly mumbo-jumbo of a Superb Starling added to the mix. By 5:15 am, a Red-billed Hornbill began to call continuously, and the Emerald-spotted Wood-Dove soon followed.

A sliver of color appeared over the eastern horizon, pushing back the dark, starry sky. Soon an orange glow spread, then turned a deeper shade before broadening into purple and pink. The quickly-changing light cast a lovely hue over the watering hole. There was still almost an hour to go before sunrise and the dawn chorus was now officially well underway. The hornbill’s “whoop-whoop” and Ring-necked Doves dominated civil daylight, punctuated by the loud rattle of the Grey-headed Kingfisher and the rich, tropical, two-noted call of the Eastern Black-headed Oriole.

The next morning began a little differently. At 4:45 am, alarm calls from Yellow Baboons, a deep bark and grunt sound, alerted us that a Leopard was strolling through the camp. The baboon calls became more distant as its arch enemy, the Leopard, moved further away.

photo © adrian binns