Lower Glenelg National Park, Victoria; a haven

Well it was a haven for us last week anyway. We set out on a Saturday morning, when it was still OK to do so, hoping to attend a family wedding in Adelaide. By Sunday everything was crumbling, and we realised the only responsible thing to do was to turn back. (If you're reading this in the future, and are puzzled by all this, I'm sure if I say just COVID-19 it will all come back to you!) However by then we'd arrived at Lower Glenelg in the far south-west of Victoria and reasoned that we might as well rest for a couple of days there as we'd booked and paid for our campsite. They closed the campground after we arrived so we had the place to ourselves for the three nights we were there - possibly the safest people in Australia! It was new to us, and a delight.

This is limestone country and the Glenelg River runs to the Southern Ocean just south of the park through a 40km
gorge cut into the soluble rock. There are caves here, as is usual with limestone, containing a skeletal treasure trove
of now extinct marsupial species (as well as more recent ones) which fell to their deaths in sink holes.

Approximate location (it's not actually in the ocean!) of Lower Glenelg NP.
It's actually a few kilometres inland, though we could hear the sea at night.
The cold Southern Ocean winds were often present too.

The vegetation in our section of the park mostly comprised Brown Stringybark Eucalyptus baxteri relatively dry open forest, with strips of Manna Gum E. viminalis forest along the river. The eastern end of the park, which we didn't visit, comprises botanically rich swampy heathland; I look forward to seeing it some spring when things are calmer in the world.

Brown Stringybark forest along one of the walking tracks.
This is a common tree across southern Victoria and into South Australia.

Manna Gum (or Ribbon Gum in our part of the world) grows near the river,
as it mostly seems to do everywhere.

Picnic ground dominated by remnant Brown Stringybark forest.
As you can see, the light was dull throughout our stay (though it didn't rain),
which neither I nor my camera could really overcome.

Our tranquil camp, also among the stringybarks.

One enjoyable 5km walk followed the river on the outward part of the loop, enabling memorable views of what is a very impressive and lovely river indeed.

The Glenelg River, here near the end of its journey to the sea.

Initially, after pressure from the vigorous Portland Field Naturalists Club from the 1940s, the Victorian Forests Commission responded to the Club's field surveys of the natural values of the area by offering to protect 'three chains' (about 60m) of vegetation along the river banks. They were probably thinking primarily in terms of recreation, as the river is popular with boaters. The Club pressed its claims however for a meaningful protected strip of at least a mile (1.6km) wide and in 1968 a 9,000 hectare park was declared. Five years later the Victorian government set up the ground-breaking Land Conservation Council to examine the state by regions, recommending areas necessary to protect a representative spread of habitats. By 1975 Lower Glenelg was expanded to its current size of 27,000ha, in line with the Portland Field Naturalists' original recommendations. (Basing land conservation on science seems a pretty radical concept now, sadly.)

Scented Paperbark Melaleuca squarrosa above the Glenelg River.

Lichens in the stringybark forest.

Some very impressive galls on a wattle bush. Insects from a wide array of groups inject the plant tissue,
especially leaves and stems, to cause a local 'cancer' of plant tissue growth into which she lays an
egg which develops with the double bonus of protection and a guaranteed food source.
The plants seem largely unaffected by the intrusion.

Other than that there was little obvious sign of insect life, though this lovely moth turned up in the bathroom block one morning.

Scioglyptis sp., probably Fuscous Bark Moth Scioglyptis canescaria (Geometridae).
(Identification courtesy Steve Holliday.)

However there certainly was a lot of small life on the ground and foliage, as small birds, especially Superb Fairywrens and White-browed Scrubwrens, swarmed everywhere.

Superb Fairywren Malurus cyaneus male which has almost finished his moult from his blue breeding finery
to his more discreet winter garb. For the next few months he doesn't need to impress the females,
so he might as well be less conspicuous to enemies for that time.
They were seemingly oblivious to us.

White-browed Scrubwrens Sericornis frontalis were also uninterested in us,
but only up to a point...

They had no qualms about hopping under and onto the table in search of any leavings.
This one is examining our gas stove to see what might have been overlooked by us.

Other campground birds were a little more discreet, though not by very much. 

Eastern Yellow Robins Eopsaltria australis are generally trusting and relaxed around people,
and these were no exception.

Male Golden Whistler Pachycephala pectoralis, always a treat, though
his glorious song was quiet now breeding had finished.

Red-browed Finch Neochmia temporalis, one of a scattered flock feeding on the grass.

I'll come back to campground birds at the end, to save the best until last! The taps, with associated drinking containers for animals, attracted some takers, though not as many as they doubtless do when it's hot.

Grey Fantails Rhipidura albiscapa, are seemingly ubiquitous in moister temperate Australia,
and are consummate aerial insect catchers.

Swamp Wallaby Wallabia bicolor. This is a truly lovely wallaby, and not closely related to any
of the other macropods. Below is one we encountered on the track.

By the grizzled muzzle and somewhat battered appearance, this one seems older
than the drinker - and with experience comes suspicion, it seems!

Here are some other animals we encountered while walking away from the camp.

This Koala - different days, different heights in the tree - seems to be resident in a couple of trees
by the entrance gate to the campground. An excellent 'meeter and greeter' for campers such as ourselves.

 

Common Bronzewing Phaps chalcoptera, a most attractive pigeon. Also present is the closely
related Brush Bronzewing, much less frequently seen and more colourful. We saw one
relatively close in dense foliage, but no photo possible, sadly.

Male Gang-gang Cockatoo Callocephalon fimbriatum in a feral pine tree - there are huge plantations
nearby, in Victoria and across the border in South Australia.

Another cockatoo which has taken to the pines - or at least their cones - is the striking big Yellow-tailed Black-Cockatoo Calyptorhynchus funereus. As we drove into the park a flock of at least 200 flew over us going to or from the pines. Here are a few, in very poor light.

Grey Currawong Strepera versicolor. This is a tricky part of the world for currawong identification. In most
places Grey and Pied Currawongs are readily distinguished; Greys are ashy grey with no white rump,
Pieds are glossy black with a broad white rump. However in south-west Victoria and adjacent South Australia
Greys are almost black and Pieds have only a narrow white band. No doubts about this one,
but they're not always so obliging in displaying their rump.

Little Wattlebird Anthochaera chrysoptera on Banksia marginata.
Not many appropriate flowers are out in autumn, so the wattlebirds and other large honeyeaters
are reliant on the banksias for nectar at this time of year.

Which brings us back to the campground, and two birds which made our stay there especially memorable. 

Olive Whistlers Pachycephala olivacea are perhaps not as scarce as they might seem (though this race,
hesperus, is regarded as Near Threatened) but they are generally shy and hard to see in the dense thickets
that they favour. This one briefly came right into the open just a couple of metres from us however.
Magic moment and the only decent photo I've ever managed of one.

Rufous Bristlebirds Dasyornis broadbenti are scarcer and shyer still, in the coastal heaths of
western Victoria and south-eastern South Australia. (Though they are said to be less elusive
than the other two species.) While we saw them regularly scooting into bushes, this is
the sole photo that I managed to take in the entire time. Better than nothing!

In these strange and difficult times for us all, I think it's important to have such memories to sustain us until we can get out and refresh ourselves again. Your own memories are more important to you than mine are, but it's not a bad idea to see things through other eyes sometimes too. And when this is all over, you could do a lot worse than go and enjoy Lower Glenelg for yourself.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 16 APRIL.
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Anteaters, armadillos and sloths; the original South Americans

South America is a joy for mammal-watchers; for the lucky and well-guided visitor mammalian treats include Jaguars, tapirs (three species), otters (four species, including the magnificent Giant Otter), camel relatives (Guanacos and Vicunas), Spectacled Bears, peccaries, a wonderful array of monkeys and various strange and impressive rodents including Capybaras, viscachas and agoutis. There are of course also many marsupials, but they are small and nocturnal and most are rarely seen. Famously the marsupials are synonymous with the early days of South America, as part of Gondwana, a mighty southern landmass that included Australia. However, all the other mammals mentioned above except the monkeys and rodents are recent arrivals (or at least their ancestors were), crossing the Isthmus of Panama from North America within the last three million years. (Since then the North American camels and tapirs have disappeared.)

Jaguar (Panthera onca), Cuiabá River, Pantanal, south-western Brazil; one of the most-desired
sightings in South America for any naturalist.
However all modern South American carnivores and hoofed mammals are recent arrivals.

The ancestral monkeys and rodents seem to have rafted from Africa 35 and 45 million years ago respectively, which certainly makes them 'old South Americans' and very different from their distant African relations, but they are far from the oldest.

Capybaras Hydrochoerus hydrochaeris, Pantanal, Brazil.

Ecuadorian Squirrel Monkey Saimiri macrodon, Yasuní NP, Ecuador.
Both the 'caviomorph' rodents and monkeys can lay legitimate claim to being 'genuine'
South Americans, but they are far from the oldest South American eutherians
(ie all South American mammals except the marsupials).

Until relatively recently there was a wonderful array of ancient South American eutherians, as well as big carnivores whose relationships to marsupials is debated. But the greatest diversity was in ancient hoofed mammals totally unrelated to any living herbivores. There were grazers which resembled horses, camels, rhinos, tapirs and elephants - but which were something else entirely. Some had disappeared through natural processes long before the North Americans arrived, but others survived until the last few thousands or tens of thousands of years. Not one of them has living descendants though, sadly.

However one ancient South American group certainly does. The 31 living Xenarthrans represent a very old line of mammals, the anteaters, sloths and armadillos, which are totally different from any mammals anywhere else. Today the armadillos form one Order and the anteaters and sloths another. Their ancestors, apparently leaf-eating tree dwellers like modern sloths, arose in South America somewhere between 60 and 80 million years ago (estimates vary) and developed and diversified in isolation from the rest of the world until the recent push by some into now connected North America. It is surprisingly difficult to find published evidence of the times of divergence of the three modern groups, but it seems that armadillos had emerged as a separate group by 45-48 million years ago. Within the other Order, the oldest sloth fossils are 34-38 million years old, and the anteaters seemingly appeared some 15 million years later. (I found this article probably the most helpful.)

Big Hairy Armadillo Chaetophractus villosus, Chilean Patagonia.

Brown-throated Three-toed Sloth Bradypus variegatus, Costa Rica.

Giant Anteater Myrmecophaga tridactyla, Pantanal, Brazil.

It seems remarkable that animals so dramatically different could be related, but 45 million years of adaptations is a very long time! Nonetheless features that they share, which reflect their relatedness and their differences from other mammals, include very simple dentition (no teeth at all in the case of the anteaters), internal testes, shared spinal peculiarities and very low metabolic rates (around half that of other eutherian mammals of equivalent size) and body temperatures (no more than 35 degrees and down to 30 for some sloths).

Armadillos are characterised by leathery armour (comprised of bony scales covered by horny skin and separated by flexible strips of skin which allow some species to roll into a ball for protection). They are extremely proficient diggers for grubs, ants and termites, and construct substantial shelter burrows. There are 21 living species in two families, but many more existed in the past, including a diversity of the giant heavily-armoured glyptodons (up to five metres long) and the extinct family Pampatheriidae, which were also large (up to 200kg) and well-armoured. There are two living armadillo families, represented by the following two species.

Six-banded Armadillo Euphractus sexcinctus, Pantanal, Brazil, above and below.
The 'bands' of scales are clear here, along with the armoured tail and powerful digging feet.
But don't try and count the bands, I found that didn't help at all!

Their eyesight is very poor (and they only see in black or white, or degrees of light intensity)
but they have a good sense of smell.

Nine-banded Armadillo Dasypus novemcinctus, Pantanal. This one is found from Uruguay to the
central US, the widest range of any armadillo. (However it only expanded into the US in the late 1800s.)
A big armadillo, they can weigh up 10kg and be over a metre long.
Note the long ears, and the comment above regarding the number of bands!

It is hard to imagine a more contrasting lifestyle than that of ground-living and -burrowing armadillos and the exclusively arboreal sloths, which specialise in tropical rainforests. There are six living species in just two families, but in the past they were a far more diverse group, with five whole families of ground sloths (sloths that 'came down') many of which were giants. The biggest, Megatherium spp., were the size of modern elephants. There was even a genus of five species of long-tailed aquatic sloths which fed underwater on marine plants - algae and seagrasses - which they harvested from the seafloor. The most recent giant ground sloths, members of at least four families, lived in South Americans with humans until about 10,000 years ago. Their near-simultaneous extinctions suggest a human involvement, and this is supported by the fact that ground sloths in the Antilles survived until 5000 years ago - when humans arrived.

Lifesize statue of Mylodon, three metres long and weighing a tonne, at the Cuevo del Milodón
in Chilean Patagonia. Well-preserved remains, including bones and skin, were found
here in the 1890s. It's an impressive sight!

The two living families comprise the Three-toed and Two-toed Sloths respectively (actually it should be 'fingered' - they all have three toes), but though they look almost identical they have been separated for 28 million years. It seems that if you're going to live upside down in trees, you're likely to look very much like a sloth! Because they do live most of their lives upside down, their hair grows in the direction of feet-to-body, unlike all other mammals, so that rain runs off. Because their legs don't have to support the weight of their body, sloths have a significantly lower proportion of body muscle than other mammals. When they do come down - which bizarrely they do, about once a week, to urinate and defecate, and carefully bury the waste, at great risk - they have to drag themselves along the ground.

Hoffman's Three-toed Sloth Choloepus hoffmanni on the ground, Tambopata reserve,
southern Peruvian Amazon. Above and below.

 

Brown-throated Three-toed Sloth changing trees, Myuna Lodge, northern Peruvian Amazonia.
The extra articulations in the lower spine enable them to extend at right angles from a branch too.

The green tinge faintly visible in the fur of this Three-toed Sloth is due to the presence of two species of
blue-green algae in grooves in the hairs. This assists with camouflage from aerial predators.
Moreover various species of moths, beetles and ticks also live in the fur.

The contrast between sloths and anteaters, in the same Order, is immense. The four anteater species are similar in form, but range in size from the tiny Silky Anteater Cyclopes didactylus, only 30cm long, to the huge Giant Anteater which can be well over two metres long. They all have a long tubular snout and no teeth, but a hugely extendable tongue, longer than the head. This tongue is equipped with little back-pointing spines and coated with thick sticky saliva. The Giant Anteater is solely terrestrial, but the other three climb and have prehensile tails. They move from ant or termite nest to nest, to avoid being excessively bitten or stung each time. A Giant Anteater may visit 200 nests a day and eat up to 35,000 ants, but not many from each colony. Anteaters lack stomach hydrochloric acid, but rely on the formic acid of their prey to digest them!

When you encounter a Giant Anteater in the wild - and Brazil's southern Pantanal is perhaps the most reliable
place to do so - it is obvious that its eyesight is very limited, and hearing only moderate, but its sense of
smell is very acute. It has very powerful claws for ripping into termite and ant nests; to protect them
the Giant Anteater walks on its knuckles.

In the Pantanal, where only a tiny area is reserved, Giant Anteaters seem to thrive alongside the cattle.

In size between the Silky and Giant Anteaters are the two very similar tamanduas (Northern and Southern) which can be up to 1.5 metres long, but usually less. They forage both on the ground and in trees.

Southern Tamandua Tamandua tetradactyla, south Pantanal. It took me many years of searching
to finally see one of these beautiful animals - the Pantanal truly is a wonderful place.

Unlike the Giant Anteater, tamanduas protect their claws by walking on the outside of their front feet.

Everything about South America is fascinating, but these very ancient South Americans are up there with the most fascinating aspects of all. I hope you can see them some day, if you've not already done so - they are very special indeed.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 2 APRIL.
(I'm going to be away for a couple of weeks soon, so a bit of a hiatus before
the next one; in the meantime there's lots to read in past posts!)
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Remembering Namadgi: celebration of a great park #4 bigger animals

We have now got to the final instalment of this celebration of a great park, Namadgi, which is Canberra's back yard. Sadly it has been grievously burnt in the past few weeks, but the fire is effectively out now and recovery has begun. I had hoped to get permission to accompany parks staff into the area to report to you, as I did in 2003, but it seems this is not going to happen. Meantime the park, including the unburnt areas, is going to remain closed for an indefinite period. If you've just found this series, you might like to go back to the start for background that may be of interest.

Today we're going to enjoy some of the bigger animals - the vertebrates (mammals, birds and reptiles - I don't have any Namadgi frogs or fish to offer you, unfortunately).

Male Eastern Grey Kangaroos (Macropus giganteus); young males sparring, Gudgenby Valley.
This valley is in the central east of the park, mostly treeless (a combination of frost hollow and clearing
by 19th and early 20th century settlers) and hugely attractive to big mobs of roos. It burnt, but I'm
assuming that they will recolonise as the grass regrows with the rain.

A small part of the mob we passed through on an autumn walk a couple of years ago.

They're not the only macropods in the park of course, though the others don't normally gather socially. (For a lot more on macropods - kangaroos, wallabies and their kin - see here.)

This was the largest collection of normally solitary Red-necked Wallabies Macropus rufogriseus that I recall seeing.
They'd come to feed one morning on the grass at Bulls Head picnic area in the high Brindabellas.

Reptiles are easy to see on any summer walk (assuming it's warm of course, never to be presumed in the Alps). Skinks are the most likely reptiles to be seen; most are small and quick, but one giant skink is a special attraction.

Blotched Bluetongue Tiliqua nigrolutea by the Mount Franklin Road. This lovely lizard is truly a giant
among skinks, growing to 45cm long and weighing in excess of a kilo. In Tasmania it is found at
sea level, but as we go north on the mainland it is found at higher altitudes.
(More on bluetongues here.)

Black Rock Skink Egernia saxatilis on granites along the Yerrabi Track, in the south of the park
by the Boboyan Road. Much smaller than the bluetongues, it can still get to 25cm long. It lives in
rock crevices and can gather in big numbers in suitable habitat, such as the great granite
tors above the Orroral Valley.

Highland Water Skinks Eulamprus tympanum are found high in the northern Brindabellas, including
here at Bulls Head. They are common on logs or rocks, and often near water - this one wasn't though.

Grass Skink Lamprophilus guitchenoti, Rendezvous Creek walk.
This common little skink (only 90mm long) is found at all altitudes in the ACT.

Snakes are not uncommon, but mostly shy and rarely encountered. In summer though Highland Copperheads are likely to be out on the roads on sunny days.

Highland Copperhead Austrelaps ramsayi crossing the Mount Franklin Road. This is a venomous snake, but
easy-natured and eager to get away. It specialises in high mountain living (it is rarely found below 700m above seal level), so can function at temperatures which would immobilise most other snakes. Its main culinary interest is frogs,
though it doesn't mind small mammals, lizards or snakes if they're available.

White-lipped Snakes Drysdalia coronoides (here on the Yerrabi Track) are even more tolerant of the cold
than Highland Copperheads, living above the snow line in Kosciuszko National Park.
They are remarkably variable in colour (I love this reddish form) but the white lip is constant.
Rarely exceeding 40cm in length, they focus on skinks and frogs.

Which brings us to birds, which are of course a conspicuous part of any landscape. I shouldn't be surprised to realise how many of the following bird pics were taken in the lovely little woodland patch immediately behind the Namadgi Visitor Information Centre - it's after all one of my favourite birding sites in the ACT. Unfortunately it too is closed to the public at present; I understand why most of the park needs to be inaccessible at the moment, but this one I find a little puzzling. It's on the northern fringe of the park not far from the suburbs, with easy access, and thus escape in emergency. It wouldn't seem to be hazardous on days that weren't high fire risk, and wouldn't put strain on parks staff. However, they have enough to think about at present. 

The next eight pictures were all taken there on various visits, mostly in the early mornings.

Grey Currawong Strepera versicolor. This is not a common bird in the ACT, though it is perhaps occasionally
overlooked among the far more abundant Pied Currawongs. Its ashy plumage and ringing calls, sometimes
like metal on metal, are very distinctive though.

Leaden Flycatchers Myiagra rubecula (female above, male below) at their next in a tree fork,
as is characteristic of the species. Its harsh froggy calls and clear whistles are sounds of
the woodlands in summer; in winter it migrates north again.

 

Rainbow Bee-eater Merops ornatus with dragonfly, a staple of their diet, being large and nutritious.
Another migrant which arrives here to breed over summer, though it excavates burrows in banks.

Speckled Warblers Pyrrholaemus sagittatus on the other hand are sedentary, staying in the territory
all year round. Like other woodland species they are threatened by the loss of habitat, and listed
as Vulnerable in surrounding New South Wales (though somewhat mystifyingly not in the ACT).
This one was very busily collecting next-building material...

... as was this Spotted Pardalote Pardalotus punctatus, an abundant tiny bird which lives by gleaning
tiny animals from the foliage. It is common from the Snow Gums to the suburbs.

The exquisite little White-throated Gerygone Gerygone olivacea is another summer breeding migrant.
It has one of the most beautiful calls in the bush, a repeated falling silver leaf of sound.
Sometimes it can be maddeningly elusive, at other times it is totally confiding

White-throated Treecreepers Cormobates leucophaea are on the other hand present all year round, working
from the base of the tree up the trunk, then flying down to the next one.
Its incessant clear piping calls make it relatively easy to track down.

Another good woodland birding area in Namadgi is further south along the Boboyan Road, around the Glendale works depot and along the Old Boboyan Road in the nearby Gudgenby Valley (where the roos above were). The fires went right through there, but I have no idea how intensely, or how patchy or otherwise it was. In general I'd expect woodland to recover reasonably well (as it did after 2003).

Given the overall state of woodlands, it's to be expected that several species reliant on woodland are listed as Threatened; the first two species below are in that category.

Male Scarlet Robin Petroica boodang; there are not many sites in the ACT these days where we can fairly
reliably see these brilliant little insect-eaters.

\

Diamond Firetail Stagonopleura guttata; a delightful little grass-finch, to which this photo certainly doesn't do justice.

Common Bronzewing Phaps chalcoptera, a common pigeon from Canberra to the high Brindabellas.
This one was sunning on a rock outcrop in the Gudgenby Valley.

Immature Fuscous Honeyeater Ptilotula fusca; not common in the ACT in general, but
this area is a hotspot for it. Adults have a black bill and a black and yellow cheek stripe.

An even younger White-naped Honeyeater Melithreptus lunatus, just out of the nest.
It is a long way from gaining its smart black cap and red eye-ring; this is not really
a woodland bird and I'd more expect to see it in the wet forests of the ranges.

The last three Namadgi birds featured here are found high up in the Snow Gums in summer, though at least two move downslope with the snows.

Female Spotted Quail-thrush Cinclosoma punctatum, Mount Franklin Road. Some claim that these are hard to
see, but if you drive slowly through the Snow Gums and look ahead you're very likely to see a pair
scurrying off ahead of you. We don't seem to know a lot about their movements but there is some evidence
that they stay in the high country all year round.

A very young Australian Raven Corvus coronoides perched on a Snow Gum.
Note the grey (not white) eyes, the short tail and short bill with coloured gape,
which helps the parents aim food appropriately!

And lastly, perhaps the bird of the high Brindabellas in summer, the dashing Flame Robin Petroica phoenicea.This male is carrying food to the nest, hidden in a bank. Compare his orange-red to the post-box red
of the Scarlet Robin above; also note that his red goes right up to his beak,without the black bib of the Scarlet.
In winter the Namadgi Flame Robins descend to open country around Canberra.

So that's it for our tribute to wonderful Namadgi. Hopefully those responsible will relent and let us back to this grand peaceful landscape earlier than planned; many of us need that. Meantime I hope this series can help tide us over until that date comes.

NEXT POSTING THURSDAY 12 MARCH.
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