Chepu: a hidden corner of Chile

The island of Chiloé lies off the coast of Chile, roughly a thousand kilometres south of Santiago. It is wild and wet (more than two metres of rain a year) and not really part of the tourist trail, but it is well worth spending time there. One of my favourite parts of the island is the Chepu district near the north-west coast, named for the Chepu River which flows through it.

Riverside forest along the Chepu River; behind the lower streamside forest is the distinctive
taller Nothofagus (Antarctic Beech) which dominates the island's forests.

The red arrow points to Chiloé, south of the port of Puerto Montt.

Chiloé, with the arrow indicating the approximate location of Chepu.

There are no state-run reserves in the immediate vicinity, but some local landholders have forest on their property and are willing to take people into it. One even boasts a little homemade 'railway' down the hill to the start of the forest!

Ingenious, but I'd not want to try it at any speed!

Tracks have been cut through dense high stands of bamboo, 'quila' locally; Pudu (diminutive deer) and skulking Magellanic Tapaculos flit across the openings. 

Quila towering over visitors.

In the forest it is dark, with 'Spanish moss'  and other epiphytes festooning the trunks, trying to get nearer to the light.

Bromeliad growing on Nothofagus trunk.

A climber, the lovely Luzuriaga polyphylla, family Philesiaceae (or possibly now Alstroemeriaceae).
The genus has a Gondwanan distribution, with three species in Patagonia and one in New Zealand.

Rubus geoides, family Rubiaceae, grows in wet situations - not hard to find in Patagonia!

Birds are hard to photograph in the dim light, but one bird stands out - the magnificent Magellanic Woodpecker is huge and its 'chopping' is unmistakable. Not for nothing is he known as 'el carpintero', the carpenter.

Male Magellanic Woodpecker Campephilus magellanicus; she has a black head.
This one was near the farmhouse.

Unidentified, but very impressive, cryptic grasshopper.

Painted Tree 'Iguana' (though it's not really!) Liolaemus pictus,
making the most of the facilities of the farm's greenhouse.

At the mouth of the Chepu, conditions are very different. The beach is accessed by a very steep rough track at the end of the road, and the Pacific winds seem rarely to sleep.

The huge-leaved of Gunnera tinctoria - more usually associated with wet banks - seems quite at
home in the sand.

Austral Negrito Campephilus magellanicus female on the beach; this little tyrant-flycatcher
(one of the numerous ancient South American sub-oscine passerines)
is found across the southern cone of the continent.

Which brings us to the river, my personal highlight of a visit to Chepu. Boat trips are available from local fishing people, though you don't want to spend too much time trying to decipher the sign...

The Spanish at least is unambiguous - it just says 'boat trips'!

Somewhat more of a shock however is the sight of dead trees stretching across the valley.

These trees died 57 years ago, in the aftermath of the great earthquake of 1960, still regarded as
the most powerful earthquake ever recorded (somewhere around 9.5 on the moment magnitude scale).
Thousands of people died in the quake and the subsequent tsunami, in Chile and across the Pacific.

The tsunami came right up the valley, drowning the forest in seawater.

From the river however, the damage becomes less evident as we head upstream.

Ringed Kingfisher Megaceryle torquata, always an exciting bird to see, not least because of its size (40cm).
It is found from the southern tip of South America to the Mexico-US border.

One of the features of the trip is watching for Coypu Myocastor coypus, a big semi-aquatic rodent (the only member of its family) which is native to this part of the world, but has been widely introduced elsewhere by the fur trade, usually to the detriment of the local environment. In many other places it is known at Nutria, but this is Spanish for otter, so is very confusing!

I confess that Coypu often look more than a tad grumpy, but I guess they get fed up with uninvited visitors.
They can be up to 60cm long and weigh up to nine kilograms.
The Chiloé population is regarded as a separate sub-species.

Eventually the river opens out into the lovely Lago Coluco, which has resident pairs of the very handsome Great Grebe Podiceps major.

The Great Grebe wears its title with justification; at up to 80cm long it is the world's largest grebe.

The star bird attractions on the lake however are the Brown-hooded Gulls Chroicocephalus maculipennis, which breed here in huge numbers in the reeds.

A small part of Lago Coluco's Brown-hooded Gull colony.
This gull is found only in southern South America.

Brown-hooded Gull nest; the nest is floating, but held in place by the reeds.

They really are a most attractive gull, on water, land or air.

With Coypu.

Chepu is not likely to be the highlight of any trip to South America, but I'd expect that, like me, you'll remember it fondly long afterwards.

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Tree Frogs; hopping higher

There are several families of frogs throughout the world known as 'tree frogs', which have quite independently evolved to very similar forms to enable a largely arboreal lifestyle. Most conspicuous among these adaptations are large toe pads, often with a sticky mucus which allows gripping onto smooth surfaces; long limbs and toes are sometimes also evident.

Green Tree Frog Litoria caerulea, tastefully posing on a yellow brick wall (not road)
in Karumba, tropical Queensland.

The family Rhacophoridae occurs in Africa and south to south-east Asia.

Cinnamon Frog Nyctixalus pictus, family Rhacophoridae, Batang Ai NP, Sarawak.
This one breeds in pools in tree hollows.

Along with this family, the big family Hyperoliidae is widespread in Africa. I can't tell to which family the next two pictures belong (field guides in these areas are sparse, and most of the defining characters even at a family level are internal), though I suspect Rhacophoridae for both. Needless to say, I'll be happy to receive and acknowledge any suggestions!

Bwindi Impenetrable National Park, south-western Uganda

Korup National Park, western Cameroon.

However the 'true' tree frogs (not my term and I really have no idea what it means!) belong to the very large and widespread family Hylidae, found right across mid-latitude Eurasia, North and South America and Australia, though a Gondwanan origin has been suggested.

It is the largest frog family in Australia (since the big family of ground frogs, Myobatrachidae, was split into two - now comprising that one plus Limnodynastidae). Most species (some 70) belong to the genus Litoria; curiously the burrowing frog genus Cyclorana (about a dozen species) is in the same family.

Let's just enjoy some of these lovely Australian Litoria tree frogs.

Dainty Tree Frog L. gracilenta, Mount Molloy, north Queensland. This is a familiar little frog,
as it is often found around human habitations, along the east coast from a little north of Sydney to Cape York.
It likes to hide in banana hands, hence a popular name of Banana Box Frog, as it can travel long distances thus.

Green Tree Frog L. caerulea, Darwin. As can be seen, this is another frog which is happy to share its
dwellings with humans; this one spent its days in a pile of stacked plastic chairs on a verandah.
'Caerulea', or 'sky blue', may reasonably be seen as an odd name for a green frog; however the first
specimens to be sent back to England turned blue when pickled in formalin!

Dahl's Aquatic Frog L. dahlii, Fogg Dam near Darwin. As the name suggests this 'tree frog'
mostly lives in or near water; its toes (not visible here) have no climbing pads.

Eastern Dwarf Tree Frog L. fallax; a small tree frog (no more than 30mm long) found along much
of the east coast. It too can turn up in fruit shops far from its home, having hitched a ride.

Javelin Frog L. microbelos, south of Darwin; the common name is apparently a reference to its pointy snout.
I rescued this one from attack by Green Tree Ants in a bird hide.

Motorbike Frog L. moorei Margaret River, Western Australia; named not from any strange habits,
but its remarkable call, just like a motorbike revving up through the gears.

Peron's Tree Frog L. peronii, Pilliga National Park, inland northern New South Wales (not very keen on being
photographed - sorry!); sometimes called the Maniacal Laughter Frog for its astonishingly loud call.
It was named for François Peron, a young medical student who became chief scientist on the mighty
Baudin expedition to Australia from 1800 to 1802. He was promoted by
default when the professional scientists abandoned ship in protest at Baudin's high-handed treatment of them,
but proved himself a natural in the job.

Lesueur's Tree Frog L. lesueurii, Nowra, south coast New South Wales.
For Charles Lesueur, an artist on the Baudin expedition who worked with Peron.
(I'm having a few doubts about my identification of this one, now that I look again; any comments?)

 

Verreaux's Tree Frog L. verreauxii, subalpine Kosciuszko National Park.

Magnificent Tree Frog L. splendida, Territory Wildlife Park, south of Darwin.
This is the only captive animal on this posting, but it really is, well, magnificent!
It lives on the border of Northern Territory and Western Australia, on the coast.

White-lipped Tree Frog L. infrafrenata, Mareeba Wetlands, north Queensland.
This superb frog is allegedly the world's largest tree frog, up to nearly 15cm long!
Found from northern tropical Queensland and into New Guinea and associated islands.

And as I mentioned before, 'true' tree frogs are also found elsewhere; here are some South American hylids from the Amazon, most of which I can't identify; again, I'd love your assistance if you're able to offer it.

Dendropsophus leali, Rio Alto Madre de Dios, southern Peru.

From Sacha Lodge, Yasuní National Park, Ecuador, above and below.

 

Machiguenga Lodge, Manu Reserved Zone, southern Peru.

So, tree frogs; how could you not love them?! You've probably not learnt a lot from this posting, but I hope you've enjoyed it and them! I'm sure I'll be supplementing this post with new photos from time to time.

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Cairns Esplanade

I confess to having a love-hate relationship with Cairns, a busy tourist magnet of 150,000 people in tropical north Queensland, facing the Coral Sea. It is blatantly commercial, especially along the waterfront, which in the dry season is absolutely crowded with visitors including swarms of backpackers booking tours to the Great Barrier Reef and rainforest attractions and tour groups being herded from shop to restaurant to shop. On the other hand I think it has, with Alice Springs (far away in the central deserts), the loveliest setting of any Australian city, between the forested ranges and the sea, and the surrounds are superb. 

One place I always head to when I'm there is the Esplanade, the three kilometre waterfront backed by a strip of lawn (increasingly being swallowed up recreational developments) and facing either the shallow waters of Trinity Bay or, at low tide, vast expanses of glorious mud flats.

Trinity Bay at low tide, looking out to sea from the Esplanade.

Of course it wasn't always thus - when Cairns was founded in 1876 (as a new port to service the Hodgkinson gold field west of Mareeba, up on the tablelands) rainforest came down to the sea and blended into dense mangrove forests. Needless to say, they were not deemed compatible with the needs or aesthetics of the new town. 

Cairns, at the end of the green arrow, at the base of Cape York Peninsula.

Needless also to say, not everyone sees the mudflats though a naturalist's eyes and, despite the fact that many of the visitors are birders, there have been a series of proposals over the years to 'improve' them, including plans to dump huge quantities of sand to make a beach. Indeed at the southern-most end of the waterfront a big development involving a swimming pool complex has been inserted onto the flats, but at least that is adjacent to an area already heavily developed. In any case, I have no intention today of getting involved in such controversies, especially given that - as far as I know - there are no current proposals that would impose on the bay and its rich wildlife.

Looking towards the Esplanade and Trinity Bay, with the ranges leading out to Cape Grafton beyond.

Of course the tides determine when the best time is to visit, and if you can manage to coincide a high rising or falling tide with early morning you are lucky - even from sunrise there are walkers and runners to vibrate your telescope and discourage birds from coming too close to the shoreline, but it gets much more crowded later. The further north you go along the Esplanade, the further you are from the tourist jungle and the quieter is gets. Here are a few of the pleasures I've enjoyed there at various times; unsurprisingly wading birds are front and centre!

Little Egret Egretta garzetta above,
and Intermediate Egret Ardea intermedia below.
All three of these egrets are the same ones you're used to seeing whatever part of the world you live in.

 

Great Egret Egretta alba.

Red Knots Calidris canutus, above and below.
These are migrants, breeding in the Arctic.

Great Knots Calidris tenuirostris.This was in May, when the birds were definitely due to depart;
the one on the right in particular is starting to show some breeding red on the wing.

Red-necked Stints Calidris ruficollis swarm over the mud like busy little mice.

Bar-tailed Godwit Limosa lapponica probing mud with its distinctive upcurved bill.

Australian White Ibis Threskiornis molucca, a common species which has become
a very successful urban species (to the point of intrusiveness!) in recent years.
This one however seems content with a more traditional lifestyle.

Black-fronted Dotterel Elseyornis melanops; this is a bird of the inland waterways across the
entire continent, but is quite rare on the coast.

Caspian Tern Hydroprogne caspia and Gull-billed Terns Gelochelidon nilotica;both are found across much of the world.

Silver Gulls Chroicocephalus novaehollandiae;this little gull is the abundant gull of Australia (extending to New Caldeonia and New Zealand).

Australian Pelicans Pelecanus conspicillatus;this is reputedly the longest bill of any living bird!

Sacred Kingfisher Todiramphus sanctus.Not primarily a fishing kingfisher, this one was more interested in small crabs.

And speaking of which...

Orange-clawed Fiddler Crab Uca coarctata, above;
unidentified crab below.
The flats teem with tens of thousands of crabs, sifting the mud for food and providing food for hundreds of predators.

But a lot is happening behind us while we're watching the shore too; there are some big trees on the grass at the northern end of the Esplanade and they attract a good share of birdlife.

Brown Honeyeaters Lichmera indistincta, small and pugnacious (possibly they're constantly annoyed by the
dismissive  name we've lumbered them with), are found in most of Australia except the south-east and the harshest deserts.
They readily adapt to urban living and exotic flowers.

Varied Honeyeaters Gavicalis versicolor are active and noisy all along the waterfront.
This is a closely coastal bird, found from Townsville to New Guinea.

White-bellied Cuckoo-shrike Coracina papuensis, found throughout eastern and northern Australia,
but commonest in the tropics. (Neither cuckoo nor shrike of course!)

Immature Metallic Starling Aplonis metallica.These, Australia's only native starlings, breed in big colonies in summer after which most
fly to New Guinea for winter, but some (and perhaps increasing numbers) stay over.
Very poor photo of an adult below - the eyes really are striking!

Another poor shot of a striking bird; this was taken in May 2006 shortly after Cyclone Larry devastated
much of the nearby forest to the south, driving birds such as
Wompoo Fruit-Doves Ptilinopus magnificus north and into town.

But perhaps my favourite visitor to the Esplanade is a diminutive and exquisite little parrot. The Double-eyed Fig Parrot Cyclopsitta diophthalma is found in rainforest in tropical Queensland (a subtropical subspecies is apparently extinct) and New Guinea. The name refers to patches above the eye of some subspecies.

Double-eyed Fig Parrots, at just 14cm long Australia's smallest parrot, come to the Esplanade
when the native figs there are fruiting.

The Esplanade. It can be exasperating, and it always seems to be under threat, but I reckon you can't say you've really done a thorough job of bird-watching in Australia until you've been there. 

Sunset on the Espalande mud flats.

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