About Me

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Canberra-based naturalist, conservationist, educator since 1980. I’m passionate about the natural world (especially the southern hemisphere), and trying to understand it and to share such understandings. To that aim I’ve written several books (most recently 'Birds in Their Habitats' and 'Australian Bird Names; origins and meanings'), and run tours all over Australia, and for 17 years to South and Central America. I've done a lot of ABC radio work, chaired a government environmental advisory committee and taught many adult education classes – and of course presented this blog, since 2012. I am a recipient of the Australian Natural History Medallion, the Australian Plants Award and most recently a Medal of the Order of Australia for ‘services to conservation and the environment’. I live happily in suburban Duffy with my partner Louise surrounded by a dense native garden and lots of birds.
Showing posts with label mammals - South America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mammals - South America. Show all posts

Thursday, 19 January 2023

The Road to Titicaca; Peru's high southern Andes

Hello and welcome to my first posting of 2023! I know a couple of readers who'll roll their eyes at another non-Australian post, but the truth is that it's more than six months since the last one, and that was from Africa. With one thing and another it's been a long time since we felt able to go overseas and I'm feeling nostalgic so, dear reader, you can either bear with me or come back next time, when I'll welcome you just as warmly!

However 'warmly' is not a word I'd apply to the fabulously wild and rugged Andean highlands of far south-eastern Peru, where Peru and Bolivia meet in the middle of famed Lake Titicaca. 'Lake Titicaca'.... one of those near-fabled places that I'd always wanted to see. 

The red arrow indicates Lake Titicaca; even at this scale the size of it is evident.

Our route began at Arequipa, bottom left of the map, passed through the mighty Salinas and
Aguada Blanca National Reserve and took us to Chivay, the detour to the north-west.
Thence east on the approximate route shown to Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca.

Arequipa is Peru's second-largest city, but with a million people is a village alongside Lima's 11 million plus. At 2300 metres above sea level it is equivalent to the highest point of Australia, but of foothill status compared with the elevations we were going to - and indeed to the volcanoes which provide its setting. Its city centre, a blend of colonial and indigenous architectural styles, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. 

Volcano Chachani from Arequipa; more than 20km away, it is over 6000 metres high.
From here we drove through the superb Salinas and Aguada Blanca National Reserve, which includes Chachani. This is an enormous reserve of nearly 370,000 hectares, protecting puna or altiplano landscapes on a dry cold high plateau between two branches of the Andes, in northern Chile and Argentina, and in Peru. The area is sparsely inhabited by traditional communities who herd alpacas and llamas.
Alpacas in a typical Aguada Blanca landscape.
Largely barren hillslopes in the national reserve.

There are virtually no trees and the plants that do occur here must be really tough, like the harsh grasses that the Alpacas rely on, and these cacti.


But even here there is animal life too, and among the things I'd most wanted to see were wild Vicuñas, the apparent wild ancestors of the Alpacas, not easy to see in the wild, though numbers have rebounded reassuringly from the 1970s when indiscriminate hunting brought numbers down to about 6000 in all of South America. They are slender, weighing less than half as much as the lower elevation Guanaco (ancestor of the Llama). Their fine wool is highly prized; when the Incas ruled, only royalty was permitted to wear garments made from it.

Wild Vicuñas Lama vicugna in Salinas and Aguada Blanca, above and below.
Once a year the herds are captured and shorn by the communities, then released; in times past
they would simply have killed them and taken the wool.

Variable Hawk Geranoaetus polyosoma on the roof of a roadside service centre in
the midst of the puna. This species is widespread along the Andes.
Most of the obvious life here though is associated with the bofedales, the high swamplands. Here are a few roadside examples.

Andean Lapwing Vanellus resplendens, a high altitude plover found along the Andean
chain as far south as northern Argentina.
Andean Geese Chloephaga melanoptera,which are found only in the southern Andes
above 3000 metres. For more on the South American 'geese' see here.

A Giant Coot Fulica gigantea on its huge nest, which comprises vegetation piled
up until it is resting on the bottom in up to a metre of water. The bird itself is also
huge (at least for a coot), weighing up to 2.5k. They are found at high altitudes (nearly always
above 3500 metres, but up to 6500) primarily in southern Peru and Bolivia.

From here we continued north-west to Chivay and the amazing Colca Canyon, but I've already featured that before; you can read about it here, where you'll find lots more photos and information about the puna habitat and many more of its birds and plants.

However I am going to mention again the extraordinary Abra Patapampa (abra is a pass), reputedly the highest pass in all of South America that is accessed by a sealed road. At 4900 metres above sea level it is way above the tree line, and the scenery is like nothing I've seen, vast and unimaginably bleak and rugged. I'm fortunate enough not to be unduly troubled by altitude, but this is the highest I've ever been with my feet on the ground. The short walk to the lookout platform (Mirador de los Andes, or Mirador de los Volcanoes - mirador is a lookout) was enough to wear me out! I wouldn't have missed it though, gazing over an apocalyptic landscape to distant volcanoes. Needless to say, the women selling home-made souvenirs were untroubled by the thin air, and of course they had walked to get here.

Looking back to the south across the rock and sand landscape to Volcano Chucure.

Out to the west, we were gazing at (from the left) Volcanoes Ampato (6300m),
Sabancayo (6000m) and Hualca Hualca (6000m).

Nor is all the vapour in the air just cloud; here is a plume of volcanic smoke arising
above the cloud from the active vent of Sabancayo.

From here the road descends in all directions; ours is to the east.

Mountain Caracara Phalcoboenus megalopterus by the roadside approaching Lake Titicaca.
Caracaras are atypical scavenging falcons; this one is found along the Andes south
from the top of Peru.

You may be getting impatient to actually get to Lake Titicaca by now, but there was just one more exciting roadside sighting before we arrived at Puno. 

Short-eared Owl Asio flammeus watching us from a fence post. This is not of itself
particularly unusual - it is found across most of the northern hemisphere and southern
South America, and is sometimes cited as the having the widest range of any bird species on earh.
However our very experienced local guides had never seen one in this
part of the world. In Peru it is found mostly (but still rarely) on the north coast.
I gather it caused quite a stir when our guides reported it.
And so to Puno, a city of 150,000 people on the shores of Lake Titicaca, crowded into a narrow plain and now sprawling up the mountainsides. This is a hard cold landscape
The flat icy land outside of Puno, photographed from the bus on the morning
of our departure.
Puno and the nearby city of Juliaca are notoriously restive and, while we were there, agitated demonstrations were taking place all around our hotel, apparently relating to some unionists who'd been arrested and were being held nearby. We kept as clear as we could and didn't feel threatened. On a darker note we heard some grim stories about organised crime violence based on smuggling across the lake from Bolivia. 
 
As I write this the area is the subject of a declared state if emergency following riots connected with the ousting of President Castillo; last week at least 17 people were killed in Juliaca in clashes between demonstrators and police. This is not the place to argue the rights and wrongs, and I'm not the person to do it, though it is topical to this posting.

Lake Titicaca is the largest lake in South America by volume, and disputedly by area (I must say that Lake Maraicabo in Venezuela does seem to have a stronger claim there). It is 177km long with an average width of 56km. The main western basin has an average depth of 135 metres, fed by five major river systems and many smaller one. It contains 41 islands. In Bolivia the Rio Desaguardero flows out of it and feeds other lakes. With large waterbird populations, many endemic fish species, the famous flightless Titicaca Grebe and the huge Titicaca Water Frog (up to 50cm long and weighing a kilogram) it has been a Ramsar site of international wetland significance since 1998. 

I find that, like the ocean, a large lake is hard to meaningfully photograph!
These attempts were from a hill on Taquile Island.
The Uros or Uru people originated in Bolivia, where many still live on the lake shore. Many of them now live on floating 'islands' of bundles of giant sedges near Puno, where they rely heavily on visiting tourists. The sedges are also used to make boats.
The floating island that we visited, above and below, during our lake excursion,
which is pretty much mandatory! They are anchored to the lake bed with eucalyptus poles.

Reed boat, made of bundles of the giant sedge Schoenoplectus californicus.

However, this is a natural history blog, so I'll end with a few of the animals - mostly birds - that we encountered on and by the lake, starting with the one I was most looking forward to seeing.

Titicaca Grebe Rollandia microptera, whose stubby little wings (even by grebe standards)
render it completely flightless. While Lake Titicaca is the core of its range,
it is also found on some other nearby high altitude lakes. It is sadly Endangered,
and numbers are dropping steadily and worryingly, now down to only about 2000
birds. The widespread use of fixed fishing nets seems to be the main problem.
The two ducks that follow are much more widespread.

The Andean Duck Oxyura ferruginea is found along almost the entire
length of the Andes from Colombia to Tierra del Fuego (with an odd
gap in northern Peru). A diving duck, it is closely related to, and very similar to,
the Australian Blue-billed Duck O. australis.

The attractive Cinnamon Teal Spatula cyanoptera has an even wider range,
through large parts of the Americas. They dabble rather than dive for their dinner.

Wilson's Phalarope Spatula cyanoptera. Despite them being waders, I generally think of
phalaropes as seabirds (though I've hardly ever seen them) but this is a
Southern Hemisphere perspective. They are very odd among waders in spending the
non-breeding season at sea, and that is when see them (or not) in Australia.
In the breeding season they frequent lakes and marshlands.
They spin in the water to create an eddy, and capture small prey drawn into it.
Once out in the deep water there were virtually no birds to be seen.

American Kestrel Falco sparverius over Taquile Island.
This little falcon has a huge range over the entire Americas,
except for the rainforests and the frozen far north.
Before embarking on our boat trip on the lake we spent some productive time by the reed beds at the edge, where we saw a couple of reed specialists that I'd previously enjoyed elsewhere but never managed to lay lens on. They both have convoluted English names and between them represent the two huge primitive families of passerines that dominate South America (but nowhere else in the world).
Wren-like Rushbird Phleocryptes melanops is found in western Peru, and
throughout the southern cone of the continent wherever there are rushes and
reedbeds in marshes and on lake shores. This is one of the ovenbirds, or funariids.
    
Many-coloured Rush-tyrant Tachuris rubrigastra has a similar distribution
and habitat to the rushbird. This is one of the numerous South American
tyrant flycatchers.
And while we watched the reedbeds, we were delighted when these little characters emerged to graze, though they were shy and wouldn't let us approach.
Common Yellow-toothed Cavies Galea musteloides.
They are fairly closely related to Guinea Pigs, though belong to another genus,
and probably didn't contribute genes to the modern pets (and, in the Andes, food animals).
So perhaps a fairly random posting, but aren't they all? I hope you found something of interest here, but if you're just hanging out for more Australian subject matter, please come back next time.
 
I hope that 2023 is being kind to you so far, and naturally wonderful! 

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 9 FEBRUARY
 
I love to receive your comments and in future will be notifying you personally by email when a new posting appears, if you'd like me to. All current subscribers have been added to this mailing list and have already been contacted. This will mean one email every three weeks at the current rate of posting. I promise never to use the list for any other purpose and will never share it.
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Thursday, 24 June 2021

Living on Fish

A while ago I offered a post on some of the huge number of bird species that live by eating insects; the numbers involved are staggering. At least equally so, and in terms of sheer mass probably more so, are the numbers of animals that live wholly or significantly on fish. Mostly I'll be talking about birds again, but not entirely. 

Pied Kingfisher Ceryle rudis, Queen Elizabeth NP, Uganda.
The fish resource, though severely depleted by human overfishing, is extraordinary. One authoritative source puts the annual human wild fish catch at 90-95 million tonnes. It's hard to imagine that in terms of numbers of fish, and of course many animals take fish smaller than those generally consumed by people.

Moreover fish is a food high in energy and protein, so energy-consuming hunting strategies can be profitably applied. The Pied Kingfisher above could well have caught his lunch (and it is a he, with that broad breast band) by hovering, which burns lots of energy. 

Pied Kingfisher hovering, Amboseli NP, Kenya.
Many birds plunge into the water from above, or swim on the surface then dive, and pursue the fish underwater, a high energy game indeed. Many of these birds hunt in flocks, which are sometimes vast, converging on schools of fish which can number millions of potential prey items. To encounter such a hunt is among the most dramatic spectacles nature can afford us.

Cormorants (several species) converging on a huge fish school, Humboldt Current, northern Chile.
This is only a small part of the vast loose flock that streamed out to sea in response to other
birds already there.
Kelp Gulls Larus dominicanus and Black-browed Albatross Thalassarche melanophris in the
Strait of Magellan; upwelling cold waters provide the richest fisheries.
Blue-footed Boobies Sula nebouxii (again a tiny part of a flock of hundreds) smashing into the water
from tens of metres up, Galápagos. Note how they close their wings just before they hit the
water. They have no nostrils, which would be a serious disadvantage here.

Peruvian Pelicans Pelecanus thagus diving, Isla de Chiloé, southern Chile.
To an Australian, seeing the two big brown American pelicans diving from on high is a real surprise. Australian pelicans (which are bigger), hunt by swimming, then dipping their huge bills with elastic pouch into the water. They too often hunt in flocks however, chasing the fish schools, often accompanied by cormorants.
Australian Pelicans Pelecanus conspicillatus and Pied Cormorants Phalacrocorax varius,
Longreach Waterhole near Elliott, Northern Territory.

Australian Pelicans fishing, Canberra. The water here is shallow so they had to turn their
heads side on to submerge them. They scoop up water in the bill pouch and squeeze it out, retaining
fish and other prey items.     

 
Pelicans waiting for fish - sometimes stunned by the turbulence - to come through the lock
at Blanchetown on the River Murray, South Australia. The resting cormorants are
presumably sated; you can catch enough fish to fill your energy needs in
a relatively short time.

The cormorants benefit from the fish stirred up by the bigger birds, and will even snatch fish from the corners of a pelican's beak. They of course do pursue the fish underwater.

Little Black Cormorants Phalacrocorax sulcirostris, fishing in Kinchega NP,
western New South Wales.
Fish are slippery - they have an antibiotic surface slime and very smooth scales for sliding efficiently through the water - so a specialised bill is required. Cormorant bills are strongly hooked.
Little Black Cormorant, Coffs Harbour, NSW.
You'll see the hook better if you click on the picture to enlarge it.
Penguins and petrels and shearwaters have similar hooks.
Flesh-footed Shearwaters Ardenna carneipes, Lord Howe Island.
However many effective fish-eaters do not. Darters - a group of four diving fishers superficially resembling cormorants - tend to stalk along the bottom and ambush their prey rather than actively pursuing it like a cormorant. They have sharp-tipped bills and tend to stab upwards, surfacing and swallowing the stricken fish head-first.
Female Australian Darter Anhinga novaehollandiae with fish.
The weird kink in the neck is due to a hinge between the eighth and ninth
cervical vertebrae which enables the bird to thrust its neck forward like a spear.
The bill actually has little serrations on the inner edges to assist in swallowing.
This can be seen better in other species, including these Royal Spoonbills Platalea regia.
Royal Spoonbills at Jerrabomberra Wetlands, Canberra. The one on the left is swallowing a small fish.
Below you can see the bill serrations if you click on the photo.

These spoonbills are hunting primarily by touch by means of a 'bill tip organ' comprising many thousands of tightly packed sensors both in the tip of the bill and in the upper and lower jaws. These combine touch and taste and cause the bill to snap shut if it encounters something edible. Many birds which hunt food in mud and muddy water have such sensors.

Wood Storks Mycteria americana, Pantanal, south-eastern Brazil.
The really big storks have such organs too, but often their fish prey is so big that they can rely on their vision.
Jabiru Jabiru mycteria with big fish, Pantanal.
Despite the bird's huge size, it struggled for a long time to subdue and swallow this mighty meal.
However I doubt that it needed another one that day!

Saddle-billed Stork Ephippiorhynchus senegalensis, with big catfish (I think),
Amboseli NP, Kenya.
A slightly different use of the bill-tip organ is applied by the fascinating skimmers, three distinctive species in the gull and tern family. Their bottom mandible is much longer than the upper. They fly along the water surface trailing the tip of the bottom one in the water and when it encounters a fish or other food item the bill snaps shut on it.
Black Skimmers Rynchops niger;
Pantanal above, and Isla de Chiloé, southern Chile, below.


Fish-eating birds of prey - fishing eagles, ospreys and even fishing owls - certainly have an appropriate hooked bill, but in fact they inherited that, ready evolved, from non-fishing ancestors. They catch their fish using powerful clawed feet.
Eastern Osprey Pandion cristatus, Hervey Bay, Queensland.
The two closely-related osprey species are found all over the world; they are the only
day-time birds of prey to be exclusively fish eaters. Their large back-hooked claws
differ from those of most fishing eagles, and are adapted to slippery fish.

White-bellied Sea Eagle Haliaeetus leucogaster carrying fish dinner,
Port Macquarie, NSW.
African Fish Eagle Haliaeetus vocifer, Queen Elizabeth NP, Uganda.
The ten species of fishing eagle, found across the globe, are now
regarded as all being in the one genus. Though the claws aren't hooked,
the power of the feet is evident in this photo.
Grey-headed Fish Eagle Haliaeetus ichthyaetu, Sabah, Malaysian Borneo.
Until recently this and another species were regarded as separate from the other
fish eagles; they are even more fish-reliant than the others and it is no coincidence
that they have oprey-like recurved claws.

Fishing owls are found both in Africa and Asia, with three species each; the two groups are quite separate and the African ones differ in being almost exclusively fish-reliant.

Buffy Fish Owl Ketupa ketupu, Kinabatangan River, Sabah.
The African fishing owls plunge their legs into the water like fishing eagles,
but the Asian ones are more fastidious, not liking to get their feathers wet.
The many species of abundant gulls, all over the world, do catch fish, but they also scavenge many fish carcases; these days of course many of these are due to discards from human fishing.
Pacific Gull Larus pacificus, Esperance, Western Australia.

Silver Gull Chroicocephalus novaehollandiae, Cairns, north Queensland.
Many marine mammals (especially seals, sea lions and toothed whales) and some freshwater ones are fish eaters. Of these some of the best-known and most specialised are the otters, a group of highly specialised aquatic weasels, some of them quite large. 
The magnificent Giant Otter Pteronura brasiliensis, here in the Pantanal of Brazil,
showing its beautifully adapted paddle-shaped tail.

Giant Otters sharing - and squabbling over - fish in the Manu section
of Peruvian Amazonia. These two areas are relative strongholds of this superb animal,
which can grow up to 2.5 metres long and weigh over 30kg. Populations though are
tragically depleted by illegal hunting for its fur. They are strongly gregarious.


Neotropical Otter Lontra longicaudis, Pantanal, in a roadside lagoon.
About half the size of the Giant Otter and solitary, it is not well known.

The Marine Otter Lontra felina, here off the Isla de Chiloé, southern Chile,
is rare and is also poorly understood. It is quite different from the
Sea Otter of North America.

There are fish-eating reptiles, most notably crocodilians, all of which eat a lot of fish; some eat little or nothing else.

Yacaré Caiman Caiman yacare with substantial fish lunch, Pantanal.
And there are even some fish-eating invertebrates, from sea anemones to insects such as giant water bugs and dragonfly larvae, to spiders. The genus of big fishing spiders, Dolomedes, is found across the world. The long-legged spiders run across the water surface where they seize and deliver a venomous bite to fish and invertebrates.
Fishing spiders in Yasuní NP, Ecuadorian Amazonia above,
and southern Sarawak, Malaysian Borneo, below.

If you like fish, you're not alone. Hopefully this post might have offered you a broader perspective on the fish dinner.

Ringed Kingfisher Megaceryle torquata with fish, Pantanal.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 15 JULY

I love to receive your comments and in future will be notifying you personally by email when a new posting appears, if you'd like me to. All current subscribers have been added to this mailing list and have already been contacted.
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