Oy vey! Are you lost?

Is this the Eastern Cape? Take me home, please...!

If there's anything more stressful or tedious than a domestic flight, generally, then it has to be a domestic flight to the Eastern Cape, specifically. The hour's flying time has unwary visitors buffeting in the 20 knot 'onshore breeze' well before most succeed in wrestling their seat-belt from under the frame-hugging buttocks of the unwashed behemoth in the adjacent seat. Squawking toddlers, wielding saliva-encrusted plastic rattlers & routinely allocated the seat behind, play whack-the-bald spot, a rather miserable game for the receiving passenger in front.. This & teeth-decaying flatulence from the aforementioned behemoth tends to abrogate from the majestic mountains of the Drakensberg seen from the window-seat's porthole of hope as the plane heads south.

Vegetation, trees especially, are as laid back as the local people, a function of the prevailing 'onshore breeze' (ie: gale) rather than by design or attitude. Seasoned travelers to the Eastern Cape's Buffalo City (East London & surrounds) observe, wistfully, the departures' lounge on their way out to rentals from the arrivals-hall..

Occasionally circumstance negates free-will and obligation dictates action. A Greater (Snowy) Sheathbill, an 'assisted' vagrant to these shores, was recently reported from the Eastern Cape's Mazeppa Bay; a fishing hamlet a 'short drive' [30 minutes by concorde] away from the aptly named Hole-in-the-wall, another fishing hamlet. In the Eastern Cape a 'short drive' is anything closer than the Hubble Telescope, the taxman's pineapple spy, up in the sky.. Ask a Slummies (East London) inhabitant for directions to Mazeppa Bay & you'll be told it's in the 'Kye' (Kei) a 'short drive' away. Don't ask.

A suspension bridge joins the island to the 'mainland' 

G. Sheathbill - Mazeppa Island 'Point' June 2013

A common inhabitant of the Antarctic most, if not all, Sheathbills are considered ship-assisted vagrants to these shores. Sheathbills, incidentally, are not adverse to feeding on faeces or faecal pellets, an unusual characteristic of the avian world. For its curious nature, only a mother-can-love-it looks and the fact that we hadn't seen the Sheathbill in the sub-region before, Alisha & I boarded Sunday's 6 am. flight to East London. From there we drove the 3 hour / 190 odd kilometers, 'miss-the-angora goat' obstacle course, up-coast to Mazeppa Bay. Road conditions were interesting..

G. Sheathbill - Mazeppa Bay 'Boiling Pot' June 2013

Mazeppa Bay itself, a mecca for shore-fishermen, is defined by its hotel, wild seas and rugged coastline. Follow the boat-launch path down to the shoreline, cross the suspension bridge to the island & Bob's probably your uncle, that's all there is to it. Hopelessly lost, yet completely at ease & showing no signs of distress, the Sheathbill permitted excellent views. Later we were accompanied by fishermen, holidaymakers & a horde of local kids who joined us as we leopard-crawled over hill & dale in pursuit of 'the shot'.

The 'Supermoon' - a welcome sight as we threaded through the traffic, home.

We returned home that arvie (afternoon) on the 6 pm flight, battered by the buster (strong wind) & a little kussed out (tired) from our trip to the Kye. Awesome.

Bewitched & a stringy vulture

Ornithologically speaking, the term Twitch, used to describe the pursuit of a rare bird & which originated in the early 1950s for the nervous disposition of Howard Medhurst, a birdwatcher, is acceptable only if the twitcher finds the chase. Fail to tick the twitch & most avid birders are left gripped-off, particularly if the bird is seen by someone else. If, however, one was to attempt a twitch which proves neither twitchable nor chaseable, for a smorgasbord of excuses, then you would have dipped out... Rarities are stringy or considered dubious in record by those who dip out ...

An important caveat for the ornithologically-uninitiated - the Suppression of a rarity ie: the act of concealing a rarity from other avid pot or tick-hunters [listers] is a capital ie: tar & feather offence within the confines of the birding community.

The bell tolls for those who Suppress a tick ..

A Twitcher's guide to longevity -

• Successful twitchers should expect to cock-a-leekie if they intentionally crow the rooster in a gripped-off stew of green envy. 
• Crying fowl without the pixels to backtrack the claim is an offense. 
• The bell, in the end, tolls for those who suppress a tick.
• To dip is to grip-off - your successful sympathies are best kept suppressed. 

Twitchers deprived of all that is normal & who are captivated / cast under a spell of magic by the merest whiff of a rarity, are bewitched. A bewitcher is sad - don't be a hater..

The merest whiff....

I'll let you in on a secret - two bewitchers boarded a plane to KZN's Richard's Bay hopeful of a Franklin's Gull no-one had seen for a week & surprisingly dipped .. The same bewitchers, undaunted & tireless, hired a car, crossed borders [Swaziland] & drove the 8 hours to the Kruger National Park for an Egyptian Vulture belatedly reported at least a week earlier. Imagine their surprise when the bird was not at roost in the spot first reported...

We're just a tad gripped-off...

2013 - 'The 800 Challenge'

This is the first of, what should be, many more related blogs as the year progresses. For those of you unfamiliar with the birding fraternity generally and with twitchers / listers specifically, the depths we plumb & the lengths we go to see, what most people consider 'just a bird', borders on the abnormal, absurd even..

Our 'office'..

First, some background. Some 8 years ago Alisha & I embarked on a travel journey together which quickly became a love-story; a love of birds. It's difficult to say exactly why but as time passed our hobby swiftly became a passion. If pushed I would offer the following simple explanation: 'There's a latent freedom of spirit in all of us often stifled in the big city. Some people take to the air, scale mountains, dive the depths or find their solace on the race track. We live our freedom vicariously through birds. 


One of the first lessons we learn't was an affirmation of what we already suspected. We had a great deal to learn.. Armed, adequately we thought, with three or four different field guides, a pair of binoculars each and some spending money we ventured into the field. The common species were readily ticked & allocated a place in the listing files and passed over for the more enticing species as yet unseen. The second lesson was more subtle; we had no idea where to find the more uncommon species. Asking for help from the birding community can be trying. If you think jealousy is rife in Hollywood then you haven't had the temerity to claim a bird-list 'higher' than you deserve... ie: given your time spent in the field, contribution to 'The Bird Organisation' and or your propensity to charm the 'experts'. The third lesson we learn't was an affirmation of human nature at its best and its worst. Some 'experts' were a contradiction in terms whilst others were simply outstanding sharing their own experiences, knowledge and information. These are the unsung heroes of our passion and we have and continue to learn a great deal from these people.

Whilst by no means in the upper echelon of the listing community we have, over the years, accumulated a fairly competent list. Of the 960 or so species recorded in the region we've seen 816, photographed 785 and ringed 320 (more on this later). Our provincial lists are perhaps a better reflection of the time we've spent in the field. Our Mpumalanga list of 500 species would be considered decent. Our Limpopo list of 495 and our 'Gauteng and surrounds' list of 425 species is not bad either. We're especially proud of our Kruger list (430 species) where we spend a great deal of our 'disposable' time. So whilst our provincial lists near our home in Johannesburg are considered reasonable, our Southern Africa list falls a little short.

The Southern Africa region, in birding parlance and for listing purposes, traditionally encompasses all of Mozambique south of the Zambezi river, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Namibia, South Africa and the continental shelf off the coasts of South Africa, Mozambique and Namibia. We have steadfastly refused to spend any time in Zimbabwe for our own personal reasons; Alisha is a terrible sailor and like everybody else, juggling time and children has its influence on freedom of movement. By virtue of these facts we haven't spent enough time out at sea as we might have if circumstances were different. 30% of the birds we haven't seen can only be seen out to sea. The Zimbabwe endemics or near-endemics (birds confined to a specific country) we haven't seen either. We hope to change that this year.

So why the '800 Challenge'? Three immediate reasons come to mind. Firstly, we love to travel and we love rural Africa. Spending time in the field feeds our soul. Secondly, our Southern Africa list needs some bolstering.. and thirdly, perhaps most importantly, here's a personal challenge, just for the hell of it, with clearly defined Ts&Cs and definitive time constraints. There are no prizes or commendations which suits us just fine.