MistyNites

My Life in Motion

Archive for the category “Wildlife”

Wildlife of Australia

Scotland will always be my first home, and New Zealand my second, but being lucky enough to have it on my doorstep, I have visited Australia often and fondly consider it a third home. Whilst all three countries are visually stunning in their own right, in my opinion, Australia wins hands down with their wildlife. I can’t get enough of it. But whilst the country is most famous for its marsupials and its bragging rights as being home to the largest number of venomous creatures, there is so much more to Australia’s wildlife, thanks to a variety of climates and landscapes. Even out in the vast desert that fills the centre of the country, there are so many creatures to spot, and I have been very lucky to see so many of them.

MAMMALS – MARSUPIALS

Koala

Spotted: Great Ocean Road (VIC), Kangaroo Island (SA), Magnetic Island (QLD)

 

Red Kangaroo

Spotted: Side of the road (SA), Side of the road (QLD)

 

Forester (Eastern Grey) Kangaroo

Spotted: Mornington Peninsula (VIC), Narawntapu National Park (TAS)

 

Kangaroo Island (Sooty) Kangaroo

Spotted: Kangaroo Island (SA)

 

Red-Necked (Bennet’s) Wallaby

Spotted: Maria Island (TAS), Freycinet National Park (TAS), Cataract Gorge (TAS)

 

Swamp Wallaby

Spotted: Griffiths Island (VIC)

 

Tasmanian Pademelon

Spotted: Mount Field National Park (TAS), Maria Island (TAS), Cradle Mountain – Lake St. Clair National Park (TAS)

 

Quokka

Spotted: Rottnest Island (WA)

 

Bare-nosed (Common) Wombat

Spotted: Mornington Peninsula (VIC), Maria Island (TAS), Cradle Mountain – Lake St. Clair National Park (TAS), Narawntapu National Park (TAS)

 

Tasmanian Devil

Spotted: Tasmanian Devil Conservation Park (TAS)

 

Echidna

Spotted: Kangaroo Island (SA)

 

Bandicoot

Spotted: Perth (WA)

 

Antechinus

Spotted: Blue Mountains National Park (NSW)

 

 

MAMMALS – TERRESTRIAL

Camel

Spotted: Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Water Buffalo

Spotted: Adelaide River (NT)

 

Wild Cattle

Spotted: Adelaide River (NT)

 

Water Rat

Spotted: St Kilda (VIC)

 

 

MAMMALS – MARINE

Humpback Whale

Spotted off the coast of NSW, QLD and WA.

 

Humpback Dolphin

Spotted: Coastal QLD

 

Australian Sealion

Spotted: Great Ocean Road (VIC), Kangaroo Island (SA)

 

New Zealand Fur Seal

Spotted: Kangaroo Island (SA)

 

 

BIRDS

Emu

Spotted: Mornington Peninsula (VIC)

 

Black-necked Stork

Spotted: Adelaide River (NT)

 

Pelican

Spotted: Triabunna (TAS), St. Helen’s (TAS), Adelaide (SA), Wollongong (NSW), Jerrabomberra Wetlands (ACT), Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park (NSW), Hervey Bay (QLD), Currumbin (QLD), Noosa (QLD), Cairns (QLD), Rottnest Island (WA)

 

Royal Spoonbill

Spotted: Noosa (QLD), Cairns (QLD)

 

Australian White Ibis

Spotted: Sydney (NSW), Brisbane (QLD), Adelaide (SA), Currumbin (QLD), Darwin (NT)

 

Feathered Ibis

Spotted: Darwin (NT)

 

Black Swan

Spotted: St. Helen’s (TAS), Narawntapu National Park (TAS), Jerrabomberra Wetlands (ACT), St. Kilda (VIC)

 

Cape Barren Goose

Spotted: Phillip Island (VIC), Kangaroo Island (SA)

 

Magpie Goose

Spotted: Cairns (QLD)

 

Great Egret

Spotted: Port Fairy (VIC), Jerrabomberra Wetlands (ACT), Cairns (QLD), Perth (WA)

 

Little Egret

Spotted: Jerrabomberra Wetlands (ACT)

 

Cattle Egret

Spotted: Adelaide River (NT)

 

Masked Lapwing

Spotted: Cairns (QLD)

 

Nankeen Night Heron

Spotted: Port Fairy (VIC)

 

Fairy Penguin

Spotted: St. Kilda (VIC)

 

Bar-Tailed Godwit

Spotted: Cairns (QLD)

 

Radjah Shellduck

Spotted: Adelaide River (NT)

 

Australian Shelduck

Spotted: Rottnest Island (WA)

 

Pacific Black Duck

Spotted: Currumbin (QLD), Cairns (QLD)

 

Australian Wood Duck

Spotted: Currumbin (QLD)

 

Australasian Swamphen

Spotted: Jerrabomberra Wetlands (ACT), Melbourne (VIC)

 

Dusky Moorhen

Spotted: Adelaide (SA), Melbourne (VIC)

 

Australian Coot

Spotted: Jerrabomberra Wetlands (ACT), Currumbin (QLD)

 

Comb-crested Jacana

Spotted: Adelaide River (NT)

 

Pied shag

Spotted: Hobart (TAS), St. Helen’s (TAS), Kangaroo Island (SA), Currumbin (QLD), Noosa (QLD), Rottnest Island (WA)

 

Australian Darter

Spotted: Noosa (QLD)

 

Osprey

Spotted: Noosa (QLD)

 

White-Bellied Sea Eagle

Spotted: Noosa National Park (QLD), K’Gari/Fraser Island (QLD)

 

Brahminy Kite

Spotted: Noosa (QLD)

 

Black Kite

Spotted: Darwin (NT), Adelaide River (NT)

 

Australian Kestrel

Spotted: Phillip Island (VIC)

 

Masked Booby

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Brown Booby

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Red-billed Gull

Spotted: Everywhere!

 

Crested Tern

Spotted: Kangaroo Island (SA), Noosa (QLD)

 

Caspian Tern

Spotted: Noosa National Park (QLD), Cairns (QLD)

 

Bush Turkey

Spotted: Sydney Harbour National Park (NSW), Brisbane (QLD), Currumbin (QLD)

 

Orange-Footed Scrub Fowl

Spotted: Cairns (QLD), Darwin (NT)

 

Sulphur Crested Cockatoo

Spotted (and heard!): Sydney (NSW), Blue Mountains National Park (NSW), Great Ocean Road (VIC), Tamborine Mountains (QLD), Mount Lofty (SA), St. Kilda (VIC), Hamilton Island (QLD)

 

Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo

Spotted: Blue Mountains National Park (NSW), Darwin (NT)

 

Red-tailed Black Cockatoo

Spotted: Darwin (NT)

 

Long-billed Corella

Spotted: Great Ocean Road (VIC), Corowa (NSW), Sydney (NSW)

 

Galah

Spotted: Sorrento (VIC), Hobart (TAS), Benalla (VIC), Perth (WA), Fremantle (WA), Yulara (NT)

 

Australian King Parrot

Spotted: Blue Mountains National Park (NSW)

 

Rainbow Lorikeet

Spotted: Sydney (NSW), Tamborine Mountains (QLD), Adelaide (SA), Melbourne (VIC), Hervey Bay (QLD), Magnetic Island (QLD), Perth (WA)

 

Yellow Rosella

Spotted: Taranna (TAS)

 

Crimson Rosella

Spotted: Kangaroo Island (SA), Jerrabomberra Wetlands (ACT)

 

Tawny Frogmouth

Spotted: Tasmanian Devil Conservation Park (TAS)

 

Kookaburra

Spotted: Mornington Peninsula (VIC), Sydney (NSW), Noosa National Park (QLD), Hamilton Island (QLD)

 

Black Currawong

Spotted: Cradle Mountain – Lake St. Clair National Park (TAS)

 

Australian Magpie

Spotted: Fremantle (WA)

 

Common Bronzewing

Spotted: Yulara (NT)

 

Bar-Shouldered Dove

Spotted: Darwin (NT)

 

Crested Pigeon

Spotted: Yulara (NT), Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Magpie Lark

Spotted: Melbourne (VIC)

 

Common Myna

Spotted: Melbourne (VIC), Coogee (NSW)

 

Blue-faced Honeyeater

Spotted: Noosa National Park (QLD)

 

Helmeted Friarbird

Spotted: Townsville (QLD)

 

Forest Kingfisher

Spotted: Darwin (NT)

 

Australasian (Green) Figbird

Spotted: Townsville (QLD)

 

Red Wattle Bird

Spotted: Perth (WA)

 

Black Butcherbird

Spotted: Kuranda (QLD)

 

The Unidentifiable Bird

Spotted: Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Brown Honeyeater

Spotted: Darwin (NT)

 

Singing Honeyeater

Spotted: Rottnest Island (WA)

 

Black-faced Woodswallow

Spotted: Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Rainbow Bee-eater

Spotted: Darwin (NT), Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Welcome Swallow

Spotted: St. Kilda (VIC), Kuranda (QLD), Rottnest Island (WA)

 

Flame Robin

Spotted: Maria Island (TAS)

 

Pale Yellow Robin

Spotted: Kuranda (QLD)

 

Willie Wagtail

Spotted: Noosa Everglades (QLD), Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Superb Fairy Wren

Spotted: Tamar River Valley (TAS), Brisbane (QLD)

 

The Unidentifiable Bird

Spotted: Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Zebra Finch

Spotted: Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

 

REPTILES

Saltwater Crocodile

Spotted: Adelaide River (NT)

 

Freshwater Crocodile

Spotted: Kuranda (QLD)

 

Perentie

Spotted: Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park (NT)

 

Goanna

Spotted: Noosa Everglades (QLD)

 

Marine Turtle

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Hog-nosed Turtle

Spotted: Darwin (NT)

 

Krefft’s Short-Necked Turtle

Spotted: Kuranda (QLD)

 

Water Dragon

Spotted: Sydney Harbour National Park (NSW), Brisbane (QLD), Currumbin (QLD)

 

King Skink

Spotted: Rottnest Island (WA)

 

Shingleback

Spotted: Perth (WA)

 

Spotted Skink

Spotted: Bay of Fires (TAS)

 

Eastern Water Skink

Spotted: Blue Mountains National Park (NSW)

 

Central Military Dragon

Spotted: Yulara (NT)

 

Gecko

Spotted: Brisbane (QLD), Hervey Bay (QLD)

 

 

OTHER – INSECTS, ARACHNIDS, FISH

Manta Ray

Spotted: Coastal QLD

 

Stingray

Spotted: Noosa (QLD), Whitsunday Island (QLD)

 

Wrasse

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Giant Clam

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Eel

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Parrotfish

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Coral

Spotted: Great Barrier Reef (QLD)

 

Golden Orb Spider

Spotted: K’Gari/Fraser Island (QLD)

 

St. Andrews Cross Spider

Spotted: Palm Beach (NSW), Litchfield National Park (NT)

 

Tent Spider

Spotted: Brisbane (QLD)

 

Soldier Crab

Spotted: Rainbow Beach (QLD)

 

Sand Crab

Spotted: K’Gari/Fraser Island (QLD)

 

Snail

Spotted: Freycinet National Park (TAS)

 

Chocolate Argus Butterfly

Spotted: Litchfield National Park (NT)

 

Bee

Spotted: Perth (WA)

 

Spiny Spider

Spotted: Cairns (QLD)

 

Green Ant

Spotted: Whitsunday Island (QLD), Litchfield National Park (NT)

 

Ant

Spotted: Yulara (NT)

 

Termite

Spotted: Litchfield National Park (NT)

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Rottnest Island

When I stepped outside to be greeted by a grey, overcast morning, I was a little disheartened. But with a ferry to catch there was no time to waste on disappointment, and so I hoofed it down to the Fremantle wharf near the mouth of the Swan River. It was a busy sailing with workers, locals and tourists all in the mix. In just 25mins, the Rottnest Express whisked us out onto the Indian Ocean and across to one of Western Australia’s gems: Rottnest Island. When I first read about it, I discovered that it was home to a marsupial creature that I hadn’t heard of prior: a quokka, and out on the island, they were effectively a guaranteed sighting. I’d booked a deal with the ferry company to get a day’s bike rental with my ferry ticket, and this opened up the whole island to explore at my leisure. I was certainly going to make the most of it, and it didn’t take long for the island’s charms to grasp me firmly. What followed was the highlight of my short but sweet Western Australia explorations.

Arriving into Thomson Bay, there was a flurry of activity as supplies for the island and bikes for the tourists were unloaded. After saddling up, my first port of call was the IGA food mart to get some edibles for the day. It wasn’t until I came outside that I realised I had walked right past a quokka, and having spotted one, I suddenly realised there were many others. Whilst I tried to remain casual about the whole thing, there were several people kneeling and lying down trying to get selfies and close ups with the inquisitive creatures, and it was hard to resist joining in. I succumbed eventually, as they were more than eager to come up close, and it left me feeling excited for the day ahead.

 

I cycled along the Thomson Bay foreshore towards Kingston Barracks. I had tried to book a night here but unfortunately they were closed for the season, and the other accommodation on the island was outwith my budget. So I was eager to cover as much distance as I could before the evening ferry back to the mainland. The barracks themselves didn’t hold my attention for long, but nearby there were more quokka nibbling on the verge, and further round there was a peaceful and deserted little beach.

 

There were plenty of other cyclists, but it never felt busy or overcrowded, and there were several routes and directions to choose from. Following the coastline, I reached Henrietta rocks where a walkway lead down to a rock-strewn beach and a shipwreck lay sticking out of the water a little off shore. I read that it was a good place to snorkel, and I had planned on going in for a nosy, however there was not another soul in sight, and with my track record of sea swimming, I was nervous about going on in my own with no witnesses. I had an internal argument for many minutes before eventually moving onwards.

 

Skirting along the expansive Porpoise Bay, I took a detour out to Parker’s Point where I nabbed a picnic bench to have a snack. There was a cute little beach down the steps from here, and I was excited to find a mother and baby quokka asleep in the bushes nearby. After watching them in silence for a while, I sat back on the bench and opened up some of the food I’d bought. Suddenly, one of the quokka that had been asleep, shot out of the bushes at the sound of the wrapper and not only came right up to me, but started trying to climb up my leg to get to my food. Clearly they’ve been fed in the past, and had a clear association of food and humans, but whilst I stood my ground and gave her none, it was an incredible experience to have her sit right by my feet and watch me intently. Eventually she realised that I wasn’t giving in, and with the food finished she wandered off.

 

Still hungry, I opened another packet of food and out shot a mother and baby to play the same game with me. I was busy trying to join in the game of quokka selfies, and failing badly when a couple from New South Wales joined me. We chatted for a while as they ate, the quokkas again paying them a lot of attention, and as I readied myself to move on after a while, two large king skinks were spotted near the verge.

 

It had been hard to leave that spot, but there was so much of the island to see. By now, the cloud was well on its way to burning off and it was actually turning out to be a gloriously hot and sunny day. As the road continued to follow the coast, there was a consistently beautiful outlook to be had. Round a few bends was Little Salmon Bay and then a beautiful stretch of white sandy beach that curved round Salmon Bay. Considering how beautiful a beach it was, there was only 1 family on it, the kids splashing around in the shallows. Had I had the benefit of more time, I would have lazed on this beach for some time, but with time marching on, I too had to move on.

 

A little further along the road, I took a turn-off onto one of the inland roads, back-tracking a little to take the road to Oliver Hill. Despite the road winding up the hill to the remants of the World War II battery, I was dismayed to see a sign at the bottom saying you couldn’t cycle up. I’m still not sure why this was the case, but I ignored it for half the distance, then dumped my bike in the bushes before marching up the rest of the way, sweating in the heat of the day. After rounding the bend, the slight gain in altitude provided a sweeping view across the large expanse of Serpentine Lake which stretches out towards the island’s airport.

 

At the battery itself, it is possible to do a guided tour into the tunnels, but I wasn’t really fussed about this, so just wandered around the hilltop and a nearby path to soak up the view. From here, there was a view across to the Wadjemup lighthouse and back towards Thomson Bay. Inside one of the guns there was a pair of swifts flitting in and out to a nest. Outside the gunnery, a little train stop marks the end of a railway line that takes people to the battery from the Kingston barracks.

 

Reunited with my bike, I cycled to the shore of Serpentine Lake before back-tracking to the coastal road I’d left before. At the next turn-off I headed towards the lighthouse. A pretty white-washed lighthouse, I parked my bike up and wandered up to the base to discover it was possible to pay a small fee to be taken up by a local guide. On such a beautiful day, I thought it would be worth it just for the view alone. The small group had to squeeze into the increasingly narrow space as we climbed the circular steps up towards the light itself, and a door led out onto a terrace where despite a bit of wind, there was a 360o view over the island. I was enjoying the view immensely until I looked down to see someone walking off with my bike, and then I couldn’t get back down the lighthouse fast enough. I was immensely relieved to discover that my bike was still there and I had confused my bike for a similar looking one.

 

The view from the lighthouse had made me realise how much ground I still had to cover, so I was quick to get back to the main coast road and pedal the distance to the Neck and onwards to the West End. There were a few more people around now, but even with the regular passing of other cyclists, it still didn’t feel overcrowded. There was so much choice of bays and beaches, that everyone seemed to be finding their own wee spot of paradise. At West End however, it was a little busier. On the bus route from Thomson Bay, there were people milling around waiting for the next one.

This was supposed to be a good location to see seals, but unfortunately there were none to spot whilst I was there. After taking a look down at the cliffs and bays that lined the coast here, I sat myself down at a seating area to have a late lunch whilst staring out to sea. Incredibly, I saw two passing humpback whales, which although quite far out from the coast, were still very recognisable, and after all my luck whale watching in Queensland, I couldn’t believe that I was seeing them again on the opposite side of the country.

 

It was quite a beautiful spot to hang out, but it was the busiest part of the island aside from the wharf, so eventually I pushed onwards. The peninsula had a few side-tracks that I took, winding my way back towards the Neck. I found a viewing spot overlooking Mable Cove and Eagle Bay which I had to myself, and then back at the Neck, I took my time passing the white sand of Rocky Bay. The beach here was long and expansive, covering a large section of the northern aspect of the peninsula and neck.

 

Once back on the main section of Rottnest Island, I took the road that headed round the northern coastline, and this brought me first to Stark Bay which was the far end of the same beachfront as Rocky Bay. As much as I was enjoying the sunshine, I was exceptionally hot and sweaty, something that makes suncream application a rather messy affair. Further along the northern coast, was a little turn-off to City of York Bay, and as I’d been at all of the beaches so far, I was tempted to go for a swim and hang around for a bit. There was simply too much choice, and not enough hours in the day.

 

After spotting another quokka mother and joey at the side of the road, the beautiful Catherine Bay was next and after this, I took a detour down to Parakeet Bay which was both stunning and absolutely deserted. A hot and sweaty mess, I decided that this would be the perfect spot for a swim, and took my shoes off to wade into the water. Luckily I did this before getting changed, because as it was September, the water was frigid and my hopes for a cooling dip were dashed. I paddled for a while then wandered across the sand looking at the quokka and seabird tracks that swept across the beach. The sand was a beautiful white colour and the beach was backed by a small dune, making it the perfect rest stop even without the swim.

 

After a while, I rejoined the northern coastal road, passing part of the large Lake Baghdad. The Wadjemup lighthouse stood proud on the hill at the far side, and before I knew it, I reached the settlement of Geordie Bay, a cute little place with holiday homes overlooking yet another gorgeous beach. There was a small store and cafe here, and I took the opportunity to grab refreshments before it closed. Beyond here was a loop leading around the Geordie Bay to Longreach Bay and an area known as the Basin where there were yet more quokkas.

 

Shadows were beginning to stretch across the ground as the sun lowered, and as sunset approached, I picked my way through the holiday park to Bathurst Lighthouse which overlooked Pinky Bay. This turned out to be a popular spot to watch the sunset, with people appearing on the beach and by the lighthouse, many with picnics and wine to watch the approach of dusk. It was yet another beautiful sunset, and I watched the sky change colours before returning to my bike in the growing darkness. Suddenly there were quokkas everywhere, and whilst the light was no longer amenable to photographing them, there was no shortage of them to look at as I meandered back to the wharf at Thomson Bay.

 

Everywhere was closed up for the night with the exception of the Rottnest Hotel. Being a Friday night, it was packed, and I had to forego getting a meal due to the long wait time, instead settling for a cider in the beer garden. It was amusing to watch the quokkas and their joeys move through the sea of feet in the beer garden, and I was immensely sad, though tired, when it was time to pedal back to the wharf to catch the ferry back to Fremantle in the darkness. I’d definitely covered as much of it as I could in one day, thanks to the bike hire, but with the World’s cutest marsupial and a plethora of beaches and bays, Rottnest Island definitely deserves far more time.

Nature in the Northern Territory

Whilst it’s always interesting to wander round a new city, I’m really a lover of nature, wildlife and open spaces. So it was inevitable that my trip to Darwin would include a trip out of the city. Both Litchfield and Kakadu National Parks are within reach of Darwin, and I would have loved to have explored both, but alas, I really only had 1 day to spare, and that meant making the decision to do a day trip to Litchfield National Park, being as it was both smaller and that bit nearer to the city. Without my own transport, I looked around at the day tour options, made my choice and hoped for the best. My big bugbear with organised tours is being restricted to the itinerary that they set, meaning missing out on places, or not getting to stay for as long as I would like. I also hate being stuck with a group of strangers being ferried about the place, so if I have to use them, I’ll do my best to use a small group, locally run tour service, rather than a big group corporate tour company. Whilst this was an option for Litchfield, it meant an additional stop at the Adelaide river to go crocodile watching, something that I really wasn’t fussed about doing. It really came down to the choice between a big couch tour to Litchfield alone, or a small group tour to Litchfield and the crocs. In the end I chose the latter.

I waited outside my Darwin hostel in the early morning light, and was collected by my guide early. In fact everybody being picked up was ready early meaning we got out of the city ahead of schedule. There were only 7 of us which was great. As we were such a small group and had extra time, our guide decided to take us to the Window on the Wetlands visitor centre where we had time to peruse the display on the local flora and fauna, and have a look over the landscape from the upstairs viewing deck. Whilst the ground wasn’t as red here as I’d seen from the plane, there was definitely a frontier feel with forests bordering onto exposed arid ground. The access road to the Adelaide river crocodile cruise had a similar feel with a watering hole next to the road attracting wild cattle and a plethora of birds. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve visited Australia, but despite hiking out bush in every state I’d previously visited, I was yet to spot a snake in the wild. As we trundled along next to the watering hole though, a snake suddenly appeared on the road and rapidly shot across to the other side, disappearing out of view as quickly as it had come into it.

 

I’d seen pictures of these crocodile cruises where they entice crocodiles to jump out the water with bait, and I am uneasy at wildlife being manipulated for the sake of a tourist buck as much as I am about the association that these wild and deadly creatures will make between the food and the humans. I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel about this part of the tour, and I wouldn’t have done it in any other circumstance, but I duly boarded the little boat and listened to the skipper tell us about the local crocs. They’d been sailing this river for years and had named the crocodiles they saw. They knew their behaviour, their personality and had a reasonable idea of their age. Despite my reservations, I had to give them their dues: they really did have a keen interest in the crocodiles.

The Adelaide river is broad, and even this far upstream could have quite a tidal influence. The water itself was silty and brown and so there was no way of telling what was in there. It didn’t take long for us to find crocodiles. Unlike the freshwater crocs I’d seen at Kuranda in Queensland, these saltwater crocs, or salties as they are known, are huge. Stumpy who was missing part of a leg was the first to come over and investigate us. Like an iceberg, it is a mere fraction of the beast that is visible above the water, and that is why they try to make the crocodile jump, to show off its hunting style and sheer size. They explained to us that they were selective with who they tried to bait, making sure they didn’t pick the same crocs each time, and gauging their behaviour as they went. So although Stumpy came over voluntarily, they left him alone, moving further along the river.  Next we found Candy, a female and although smaller than the males, still a good sized croc. She eyeballed us, circling the boat, and when the bait was lowered, she demonstrated a shallow jump.

 

Despite the dirty-looking water, it was a lovely river to cruise down. Even in between croc sightings there was an ever changing bank to look at. Our third crocodile interaction was with Cassanova, the largest of the crocs that we had spotted. He was absolutely massive, and this was apparent even before he jumped out the water, but when he did leap upwards, the extent of his size became undeniable. These are definitely creatures not to be messed with. He demonstrated his jumping skills several times before we left him behind to cruise back along the river. As we did, the crew started throwing meat morsels up into the air and suddenly multiple birds of prey appeared, and these kites swooped in with great skill to catch the meat in mid air. They followed us for quite some time along the river until the meat ran out.

 

I had enjoyed the experience, and was glad to have seen some wild crocs up close, but I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the way they went about it. As we left, there was still plenty of activity at the watering hole. Now, there were water buffalo and a large black-necked stork amongst the crowd of fowl. After watching them briefly, we headed onwards towards Litchfield National Park. Our lunch stop was interesting to say the least, a random cafe in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere that was run by a nudist. The food was fantastic, and after filling up, it was time to get going.

 

100 kilometres (62 miles) south-west of Darwin, Litchfield National Park covers 1500 square kilometres (932 square miles) and is most known for its waterfalls and giant termite mounds. There was no way I was going to see everything in just one day, so this was always going to be a highlights tour, but it gave me plenty of desire to come back another time with my own transport. Our first stop was at the giant termite mounds. I’ve seen termite mounds in Australia before whilst out bush, but these were different. Within close proximity there were two types: magnetic mounds which were thin and on a north-south orientation to aid with temperature control, and cathedral mounds which were comparative giants. One of the largest cathedral mounds was surrounded by a boardwalk, allowing a 360o exam of it without being able to damage it. They might be built by tiny insects, but these structures were impressive.

 

With several waterfalls to choose from, I didn’t know which ones we were going to get to see. Our longest and first stop was at Wangi Falls, probably the more well-known and busiest of the waterfalls. It was exceptionally busy with groups of people in and out of the water. Whilst everyone else got straight in the water on such a hot tropical day, I took a quick wander along a short walkway leading round the pool edge, viewing the scene from a differing angle and coming across some rather large St Andrew’s Cross spiders. I’ve seen these in Australia before but none this big and their webs were laced across the gaps between the foliage.

 

The water temperature was perfect, but it was murky so judging the depth was completely by feel. After hanging around in the shallows, I started swimming across to the rock face, initially straight across the pool, then around the edge where I could hop between the shallower parts. I’m not ashamed to admit I have a fear of drowning. If I can see the bottom below me, even if it is out of my depth, I don’t have a problem, but like out in the open ocean, the murky waters made me uneasy as I didn’t know how deep it was. Once at the rocks, the side was exceedingly slippy and it was difficult to find something to hold on to without banging my legs against the rocks or slipping into the water. Myself and one of my companions for the day worked our way between the narrow ribbon waterfall and the wider waterfall, above which a group of guys in their twenties were unbelievably scaling the rock face quite high up and jumping into the water below. They had some balls climbing up the slippery rocks and as much balls jumping into the water when you couldn’t see where the rocks stopped or the deeper parts were.

 

Eventually we had to get out of the water, and we tucked into the tastiest watermelon I’ve ever eaten as we dried off, then we were off to the next stop. Florence Falls is a multi-tiered waterfall with a plunge pool at the bottom of the gully. We didn’t have time to go swimming here, instead we took the path to the lookout with a view down onto the falls from above. The guys who had been cliff diving at Wangi were already here doing the same thing and we watched again as they scaled the steep rocky sides, finding narrower and narrower ledges to jump from. I’m not sure how it came up in conversation, but I mentioned to the guide about my experience licking the butts of green ants in Queensland, and before I knew it, we were all letting green ants bite our skin in order to lick their abdomens. I remember thinking the first time around that it was a sentence I never thought I would say, and yet here I was, once again licking ants’ butts.

 

Our final stop in Litchfield National Park was the Buley Rock-pools. Here we had time to go swimming again, and I really didn’t need much persuasion to get back in the water. A series of small waterfalls cascading down a gradient created a myriad of little plunge pools, some of which were just deep enough to sit in, and a couple that were deep enough to swim in. I sat under one of the upper falls letting the thundering water massage my shoulders and back, before moving to the deeper pool at the bottom. Again the water was murky and the rocks were slippery resulting in me accidentally kicking the rock with my foot. The cool water helped to dull the throb a little bit, but unfortunately my toe nail had separated itself partly from my toe. It didn’t detract from the experience though, and lazing in the pools was a nice way to round off the afternoon.

 

I had hoped we would see Tolmer falls on the tour as well, but it was now time to leave the park behind and head back to the city. It didn’t take long for the head nodding to start as most of us slept our way back to Darwin. The light was getting lower as we drew into the city, but the day wasn’t over yet. I got dropped off at Mendil Beach, instead of back at my hostel, ready to experience a Darwin gem.

The Great Barrier Reef

Below the waves of the sparkling Coral Sea, stretching for 2300 km (1400 miles), the submarine landscape of the World’s largest coral reef system lies steadfast yet ever changing, off the coast of Australia’s Queensland. Over 2,900 reefs and 900 islands make it the biggest structure made out of living organisms, and unsurprisingly it is visible from space. For many visitors to Australia, a trip to the Great Barrier Reef (GBR) is a given, but for me, it had taken 5 years and multiple visits to this vast country to come even close. I love being by the sea, and I love the creatures that dwell in the oceans, but getting into the open water and exploring them in person is not a natural activity for me. So suffice to say, I’ve never really been fussed about going to the GBR, but now, working my way as I had up the Queensland coast, it seemed only sensible to reach Cairns and see what all the fuss was about.

The health of the GBR has been a hot topic of late, with reports of invading species such as the Crown of Thorns starfish decimating reefs, pollution changing the fragile water quality and of most note, the devastation of climate-induced coral bleaching. Like many ecosystems, those of coral reefs are a fragile sort, with many creatures and plant life living in symbiosis with each other. In other words, the presence of one organism is crucial to the presence of another. Coral by nature is colourless. It is the algae that colonise their tissues that give coral their fabulous and ranging colours. But rather than being a parasite, these algae are the life source for the coral. Without the algae, the coral fade to white, and eventually they starve and die. As sea temperatures rise, or pollution alters the water quality, the algae are the first to suffer, the coral following suit. My first experience of the GBR was in its southern reefs off the Whitsundays. The snorkelling conditions had been magical, but the coral bleaching was very much in evidence across the whole reef. The reef floor was littered with a graveyard of white coral, and there was more white coral than coloured coral in large sections of the reef. It was sobering and a little disheartening to see. I was intrigued to see how the northern reefs were coping.

After an enjoyable day up in Kuranda, the next morning I had an early rise to meet my pick-up to drive me to the Cairns marina where I was to board my transport for the day. There is an unbelievable amount of choice when it comes to getting out to the reef, from day trips to overnighters, helicopters to boats, diving to snorkelling. It is almost overwhelming. I had booked myself on an overnight reef experience, involving a boat trip out to a moored mini-cruiser which would take me around a selection of reefs over the course of about 30 hours. Most of the people on the boat were just going out for the day, but those of us with a special ticket, got sent up to the wheelhouse where a bacon & egg roll and a platter of fresh fruit awaited us for breakfast. I love spending boat journeys out on deck watching the world go by as the wind whips my hair into the biggest tangle of knotted curls, so I was a little irked that we were confined to the cabin for a while as introductions, formalities, paperwork and liability forms were sorted: an inconvenient necessity that I was glad to get over with. It was a sunny day, and the loungers on the top deck were the perfect spot to soak up the rays as Cairns disappeared behind us, eventually disappearing out of view.

 

It took some time for the Reef Experience boat to finally reach the Reef Encounter, the floating ‘hotel’ that was to be my base till the following afternoon. The small group of us changed vessels, whilst the many day trippers moored a little way away. For my first experience of a floating ‘hotel’, the Reef Encounter was easy to like. Stepping into the lounge area which appeared both dated but yet retro, the crew were welcoming, smiling and eager to get us settled and into the water. We were shown to our rooms and I was delighted to discover that my twin-share cabin was all mine, and after living in backpacker dorms since I’d left Noosa behind, this was the most amazing news I could have been given. Better still, unlike some of the others, my room was upstairs so I had a sea view and looking out the large windows, I spied the Saxon Reef.

 

The days were divided around a schedule: early morning snorkel or dive, then breakfast; morning snorkel or dive; mid-morning snorkel then lunch; afternoon snorkel or dive; mid-afternoon snorkel or dive then afternoon tea; night-time dive then dinner; and amongst all this water activity, the boat would move between reefs offering 3 separate locations over two days and the opportunity to learn to dive or gain further dive certification. I’ve done a lot of adrenalin activities in my time but diving has never been something I’ve been interested in. I have a fear of drowning and so the thought of being deep under the water and having to rely on a breathing apparatus doesn’t fill me with much excitement. I was one of only 3 people on the boat who wouldn’t be diving, and as the water activities went on over the 2 days, I began to realise that perhaps the experience was lost on me a little. Undeterred, I was aware that I would likely only visit the GBR once, and I was determined to make the most of it.

Briefings and welcomes over, I got kitted up in a wetsuit and got into the water for the morning snorkel session. Straight away the difference between Saxon Reef and Hardy Reef in the Whitsundays was obvious: there was next to no coral bleaching to be seen. The fish life was incredible and plentiful and excitedly on my first trip out I saw an eel. The water may have been calmer at Hardy Reef, but here the ecosystem seemed so much healthier. I stayed in the Coral Sea for about an hour, bobbing around watching life go on below me before coming out for lunch. The chef on board was incredible and I tucked into the first of many incredibly delicious meals. By the time of the afternoon snorkel, I was surprised to see a swell had appeared and the sea conditions were suddenly quite different to the morning. Still at Saxon Reef, I made a point of exploring different areas than I had on the morning snorkel and I found massive shoals at the fringes of the reef. In fact I got so distracted by them that I got whistled at for having strayed out of the snorkelling zone.

 

The top deck of the Reef Encounter offered the perfect sunbathing zone, and armed with a book from the library in the lounge, I pretended to read in between getting to know my fellow passengers and soaking up the sun. The boat had a bit of a rigmarole to go through to leave its anchorage and move on to a new spot. We anchored at Norman Reef offering a change of scene for the next water session. Here though, things were very different. The reef was not right next to the boat but a bit of a swim away, and the sea was quite choppy now. The sun was still shining but the sea did not look in the least bit inviting. I was nervous before even getting in the water, and one of my companions on the boat who was also a little nervous asked to buddy with me so that we could keep an eye out for each other. Unfortunately for her, I turned out to be the worst snorkelling buddy ever.

 

As fine as I am in the swimming pool, being in the open ocean can be a bit hit and miss for me. If conditions are calm and there is something to grab my attention, I can overcome any fear I have and push it to one side. A couple of years prior I had a panic attack whilst snorkelling in the open ocean off the Galapagos Islands. The sea conditions there had also been choppy and my guide at the time had thought the sensible thing for me to do to stop panicking was to stick my head under water and look below me. Little did he know that the sight of a deep oceanic abyss with no bottom in sight would be the catalyst for my fight or flight mechanism kicking in. It had taken all the resilience I could muster to stay in the water that day and complete the snorkel.

So now in the Coral Sea, I wasn’t far from the boat when I started to have water splash into my snorkel, sending me into a bit of a choking fit. My buddy suggested I alter my swimming technique which worked for her but didn’t work for me, and as she swam ahead of me oblivious, the choppy water repeatedly splashed into my snorkel, and as I failed miserably to clear it, I began to swallow water which sent me into a blind panic. Now, part of our welcome briefing had included a run down of emergency signals to give if you get into trouble, but it is incredible how even when I was struggling to clear my throat and breathe properly without taking on more water, the underlying thought process going through my head at the time was that I didn’t want the embarrassment of being a bother to the crew and so I stubbornly didn’t call attention to myself and just allowed myself an attempt at drowning in silence. Wearing large flippers generally makes treading water a relatively easy experience, but in full blown panic mode they weren’t quite enough and for one brief moment, I felt myself slipping under the surface and it finally dawned on me that I would actually drown if I didn’t get my act together. It was a terrifying experience, and my heart was thudding up into my mouth by the time I reached the steps at the back of the boat. When I signed myself back on board, I’d been out in the water for just 5 minutes and when asked why I’d come back in so soon, I was still too embarrassed to admit what had actually happened.

Sheepishly I hung around the lower deck for a while watching the others in the water, before grabbing myself a calming cup of tea and retreating to the sundeck to take stock of what had just happened. Afternoon tea came and went, and as the evening wore on, a few of us headed to the hot tub at the bow of the boat. What more could you ask for on a floating ‘hotel’ but a hot tub. It was a little cramped with us all in it, but it was just what I needed at the end of the day, and it was a great place to get to know the others on board. Dinner was a social affair with crew and passengers eating together. Everyone had such incredible stories to share and even the Captain who was a Kiwi, joined our table, and once again the food was delicious. By the time bedtime came around, there was a gentle rocking and rolling to send me off to sleep.

 

It felt amazing waking up in the morning after a blissful night’s sleep on an exceptionally comfortable bed. I’d requested a wake-up call for the early morning snorkel but decided to skip it, moored as we were still at Norman Reef. During breakfast, we raised anchor once more and moved on to another reef, known as Fingers. It was actually still part of the large Norman Reef but not only was the reef right next to the boat here, the positioning of our mooring relative to the wind direction meant the sea wasn’t looking quite so unappealing. We spotted two turtles at the surface as we anchored and this was encouragement enough to get back in the water. The conditions were not how I would have liked them to be, but I did my very best to quell the fear of drowning, and focused on the amazing reef below me.

 

From a snorkellers perspective, as amazing as the reef life was, I had been surprised at how drab a lot of the reef looked. A lot of the coral is a range of browns with the odd splash of purple or pink for good measure. I know that with depth, the colour spectrum becomes limited, so I wasn’t sure if this depth was dulling the colours, in which case diving the reef would be a much better visual experience, or if the reef actually was just this dull and every photo I’ve ever seen is heavily photoshopped. Perhaps the change in sea conditions favours the more drab-coloured algae. Either way, the fish life was probably the best of any snorkel experience I’ve ever had, but I felt that perhaps the coral wasn’t. Maybe my memory was tricking me, but I felt that the coral in Fiji had been rather more colourful than what I was looking at here.

 

Following a spot of sunbathing and more turtle spotting at the surface, I was surprised to see that a tidal change by the time of the mid-morning snorkel meant that the coral was suddenly much closer to look at, and in places I had to try very hard not to be bashed against it in the choppy surface waves. I was finally relaxing into the snorkel again, and I spotted a cuttlefish which I watched for some time until the strong current made me aware that I had a bit of work to do to get back to the boat. It was easy to dry off between snorkels by heading to the top deck to sunbathe for a bit, and I was quite dry by the time lunchtime came around. By now I’d got to know the other passengers reasonably well. Some of them would be leaving with me that afternoon, whereas a few others were working on their diving certification so were staying another night. One guy had been on board for a week and had dived at every single dive site that the boat was allowed to visit.

 

Finally it was time for the last snorkel, and the wind had picked up once more creating the undesired surface chop. I sought out the cuttlefish again, watching it dart around the seabed, then I watched the divers exploring below me before being mesmerised by some large fish that were hanging out under the boat. I was both sad to get out of the water and glad all at the same time. Snorkelling the GBR had been a mental challenge, one that nearly got the better of me. I think had the water been as calm as it had been at Hardy Reef, the experience would have been utterly amazing, but there was part of me that was always fighting off the fear, and so the experience was a little tainted.

 

I showered, gathered my stuff together and transferred back to the Reef Experience which had by now berthed right next to the Reef Encounter. We were again ushered into the wheelhouse where we were plied with wine, cheese and crackers, and feeling like I was at a VIP party with those that I had gotten to know over the previous day, I was quick to get just a little bit tipsy. The trip back to Cairns was a very different experience than the one out had been. The wind and chop meant that we were buffeted the whole way with a cross wind and waves that pushed us from the side, such that we rocked and rolled and dropped over rising crests. I thanked my trusty stomach for holding firm, and embraced the experience, knowing that I had experienced the roughest boat trip of my life between Isabella Island and Santa Cruz in the Galapagos Islands, and therefore nothing could ever be as bad as that.

 

Twenty-one days prior I had landed in Queensland, and now I was on my last night in the state. I marked the end of the first stage of my great Australian adventure with some ice cream on the esplanade. The next day I was to head to the airport, leaving Queensland behind, and flying deeper into the tropics.

Finding Happiness in Hervey Bay

For many months now, I have been struggling with the symptoms of, and consequences of, poor mental health. Robbing me of energy, enthusiasm and enjoyment for things that I normally love (including writing this blog), I hadn’t realised how much it was affecting me until this day, nearly 2 weeks in to my 5.5 week Australian adventure. I hadn’t felt my usual flutter of excitement at the airport, and although I had enjoyed many things on the trip so far, my heart wasn’t in it. I’ve loved travelling and exploring new places my whole life, and despite doing just that, something wasn’t right. I’d woken up in a slight grump after a poor night’s sleep thanks to some rude roommates, and an early rise. Downstairs at the front door, I waited and waited for my pick-up that started to look like it wouldn’t arrive. The receptionist was on the cusp of phoning them when they finally turned up, whisking me off the pavement, and moving on swiftly to pick up some others. In no time at all, I was at the marina, waiting to board the Blue Dolphin boat for a day at sea.

After safety briefings and introductions, we didn’t have to wait long to be on our way, and in no time at all, the pace was set for what turned out to be one of the most amazing days of my whole trip. Aside from travelling, I have a couple of other great loves, one of which is spotting cetaceans (whales and dolphins) in the wild. No matter where I go or how budget my trip is, if it is an option at that destination, I will make sure that I can do it. We were barely out of the marina when we spotted our first humpback whale, an unusual occurrence according to our skipper. We watched it briefly before heading off away from the coast, coming across first a couple of bottlenose dolphins but later a solitary dolphin. Then, as we sailed further and further across the large expanse of the bay between Hervey Bay and the tip of K’Gari (Fraser Island), we came across more and more humpback whales.

 

Viewed from a distance and then closer up, over the course of the next few hours we spied 15 humpback whales in various groups. Some of these may have been the same whale moving around below the surface but the sightings just kept coming and coming. At some point the realisation came over me that I was immensely happy, a feeling that had been lacking for the first 10 days of my Australian trip. After the initial sightings at a distance, we had several whales, including juveniles, come right up to the boat and interact with us. I stood up on the highest point of the boat that I could get to initially, before I found myself moving round and round as the whales circled us. They would swim round us and below us, constantly hiding and then showing themselves as we eagerly stood on watch.

 

When one mother and calf got bored with us, it wasn’t too difficult to find more that wanted to interact. We even ended up witnessing what looked like a mating attempt with a group of 5 whales getting into some sort of underwater skirmish that resulted in a lot of bubbles being blown to the surface. It was really hard to tear myself away from the constant whale activity to eat lunch, and even when I emerged from the cabin with a full stomach, I realised that there had been yet another whale swimming around the boat the whole time. I’ve been whale watching many times, including being lucky enough to see humpback whales in the waters off 5 different countries, but I’d never before had such an amazing experience with so many whales. I couldn’t believe what a day I was having.

 

But as if it couldn’t get any better, it did. I’d noted one of the crew sitting on a step-down at the back of the boat whilst we were being circled by a mum and calf. I joined her for a near-surface view of the interaction and then she swapped places with me and I was able to squat down on the lowest part of the boat, within touching distance of the water lapping at the stern. Whereas the main deck area provided enough height to see the whales as they passed right at the surface, as well as just below, whenever the whales swam round the back of the boat, they would surface directly in front of me, and I was able to stick my arm under the water and film them as they swam past. It was the most magical experience I think I’ve ever had with wildlife and I was ecstatic. My holiday mojo was back, and the trip couldn’t have gone any better. With the sun beaming overhead, and the water amazingly calm and glistening on such a warm day, I had a strong urge to jump in the water. Only common sense stopped me, but when they were swimming right underneath me, it was sorely tempting.

 

Eventually though, we had to leave the whales behind, but we’d travelled far enough to make the return sailing a relaxing chance to sunbathe. The tide had dropped, revealing large sandbars that we’d sailed over earlier in the day, and we hugged part of K’Gari’s sandy coastline on route back to Hervey Bay. I was still on cloud 9 when we arrived back into the marina, by now mid-afternoon. I couldn’t thank the crew enough for the trip, and I stayed at the marina for a while afterwards, letting the memories absorb whilst I mulled over an iced coffee. Foregoing the ride back to my hostel, I decided to use the remaining hours of daylight to walk back along the coast.

 

It was a short walk to reach the far end of the long stretch of beach that spans the length of Hervey Bay’s coastline. With the tide out and the coastal shelf flat, there was a wide expanse of sand exposed to walk upon, and I was quick to leave the streets behind and get down onto the sand. One of the distinctive features here was the extensive length of the Urangan Pier, 868 metres (2848ft) long sticking far out into the sea. Near its base, the water lapped at the struts in places and pelicans sat near the shoreline. It was a lengthy walk out to its end, with locals fishing off it in places. This attracted more pelicans and other seabirds, and there was plenty of activity surrounding them as they waited for a bite.

 

With the early sunset in Queensland, the light was already dropping down to create a long shadow as I headed back along the pier to the shoreline. I had planned on walking a good chunk of Hervey Bay’s beachfront, but with the lowering light it soon became clear that this just wasn’t achievable. I stuck to the promenade, walking under trees filled with talkative rainbow lorikeets, and followed the setting sun as the sky turned through shades of red. It was dark by the time I reached my hostel, having stopped for some pizza on the way back. There were a few others milling around the reception area with the same intentions as me. I had been planning on heading north to Mackay on the overnight bus, to spend 24hrs there to catch up with someone I hadn’t seen for 5 years, but after it fell through I was left at short notice with a day at hand. After mulling over options, I decided to take an arduous 12 hour bus journey to Airlie Beach. It was a busy bus of backpackers that set off late at night into the darkness. Like on planes, I struggle to sleep on moving vehicles, even although I had a double seat to try and stretch out. Dozing on and off whilst listening to music, the hours ticked by, and before I knew it, the sunlight crept back onto the horizon, and another glorious day in Queensland beckoned…

North to Noosa

Despite being 17 years since I left high school behind, I’ve discovered an interest in a subject that I hated at school. It may have something to do with the country I live in or just coincidental but I’m quite fascinated now by geology and how landscapes came to be. The distinctive Glass House Mountains in Queensland, Australia are a collection of domes left behind from previous volcanic activity in the region. I’d spotted them on the drive to Australia Zoo back in 2014 and this time I’d managed to convince my partner to take a detour on our drive north to Noosa. We didn’t really have a plan and weren’t sure what to expect so just followed some tourist signs. The first one we came across we had to off-road it to get to a small car park below a summit walk but my partner didn’t want to hike in the heat so we turned back. Looping round in a circle, we headed up another one which could be driven all the way to a viewing spot at the top.

It was a busy car park when we arrived and we had little time before a few coaches of Japanese tourists arrived and the place became overrun with people. It was a nice view though overlooking the surrounding bush with several of the Glass House mountains visible. We’d spotted a cafe on the drive up and were lucky to get a table on the drive back down as it too was a busy little spot with a beautiful view from their decking. As a trade off for not going to Australia Zoo, we stopped at the local kart racing track for my partner to beat me once again. I was never the best at kart racing anyway but following wrist, back and shoulder injuries I’m even more cautious in them than before. It always takes the alloted race time to get the feel of the track, such that I’m just getting into it when I get called off. Needless to say, I have a 100% record of defeat on the kart track: a record that I don’t think will ever change. If nothing else, I just end up being another obstacle for the better racers to negotiate.

 

Noosa in the Sunshine Coast is a special place for my partner, somewhere he could happily return to time and time again. When we visited in 2014, we experienced the most amazing thunder & lightening storm I have ever seen. Although popular and packed like it’s Gold Coast cousins, it has a totally different vibe to the likes of Surfers Paradise and it’s one of the few busy places I don’t mind. Many places have been ruined by their own popularity but Noosa is not quite there yet. Made up of the collective zones of Noosa Heads, Noosaville, and Noosa North Shore, Noosa is a mix of beach, sea, river and estuary. We were staying in an apartment just 1 street away from the beachfront of Noosa Heads, right by the main street and it was huge. It was also very convenient for one of our favourite hangouts, the very popular Noosa Heads Surf Life Saving Club which overlooks Noosa Main Beach. Aside from providing the obvious life saving services, many of Queensland’s surf clubs also provide eating and drinking hubs and Noosa Head’s club has a great reputation. At peak times, table and bar space is in short supply, but we managed to get a spot to enjoy an evening drink and dinner before wandering along the main street, picking up dessert along the way.

 

Whilst my partner was going to be hanging out in Noosa for several days, I only had 2 full days there before we were parting company. My partner had been keen to take me on an excursion to the Noosa everglades, one of only two everglades in the world (the other being the more famous Florida everglades), so we booked on to a day tour from Noosa Heads. We were both up early due to still being on New Zealand time, so we made the most of the morning light by taking a walk along the beachfront and into the Noosa Spit Recreation Reserve. Just like on our last visit, there was a beautifully crafted sandcastle on the beach, and at the spit, the rays of morning sun streaked across the sandbar.

 

We were picked up by the tour company and driven to the pier up the Noosa river where we were to set off on our trip. Even in August, it was a busy time of year and two packed boats set off together. The Noosa river is well utilised and busy, but even with the heavy traffic, there was also plenty of bird life to see. Initially, it was mainly pelicans and seagulls, but as we left the waterfront villas behind and rounded a few bends of the river, past the pleasure boats and sails, there was a plethora of diving birds, spoonbills, brahminy kites and even an osprey to spot. The river side was an entanglement of mangroves, towered over by a forest of tall, spindly trees behind them.

 

The river opened up into a large yet shallow lake that we ploughed across before re-entering the narrower river channel. Now it felt like we were away from civilisation, the trees packed deep either side of the river, and after crossing the massive expanse of Lake Cootharaba (Queensland’s largest lake), stopping at a campsite to stretch our legs and have a snack, we finally entered the Everglades proper. Here the water changed from the green-blue seawater to the brown tannin-stained fresh water, and there was a noticeable reduction in bird life. There were many people out kayaking but the bush remained thick giving the impression of being far away from everything.

 

The further up river we travelled, the more reflective the water became and as we snaked through the waterway, the reflection of fallen trees cast a magical sight. Eventually we moored at the pier near Harry’s Hut and we were left to wander around whilst our inclusive lunch BBQ was prepared. We didn’t need to wander far to find one of Australia’s large lizards, the goanna or monitor lizard as there were 3 lace monitors (Australia’s 2nd largest lizard) hanging around the picnic area. They drew a lot of attention but also came with a warning as bites from them have occurred which can be quite nasty.

 

After a delicious lunch and more goanna watching, it was time to return to Noosa but the view on the way back was just as beautiful. Again the mirror effect on the upper river system was mesmerising, and once more as we returned to the sea within Lake Cootharaba, the bird sightings started to increase again. We saw as much, if not more birds on the way back as we did on the way up. It was a beautifully cloudless day, and there was much to look at. Returning to the lower river and back in civilisation, the river was still a hive of activity. I love to see young people learning to sail as a normal part of growing up. Growing up myself in suburban Glasgow in Scotland, we got little water exposure and as such I don’t have much confidence in the sea. As with New Zealand, many Australian children spend their childhood swimming or boating on the coast, and as such there is a noticeable difference in water confidence and I find myself jealous of their upbringing.

 

When we moored up, somebody noticed some stingrays in the water and as it was quite shallow it was easy to spot them even with their camouflage against the sandy backdrop. After being driven back to Noosa Heads, I headed out to wander along the beach as the sun set. It gets dark early in Queensland, the sun dipping below the horizon around 6pm give or take, so the sky was turning red as I meandered along the waterfront. By now the sky was full of clouds, so the red glow in the clouds reflected on the moist beach where the waves retreated. Eventually as darkness fell, I joined my partner at the Surf Life Savers Club for dinner and drinks before we retired to the comfort of our apartment. Still unaccustomed to the time difference and with the early darkness confusing our bodies, we retired early once more. In the end this wasn’t a bad thing, as it made us naturally awaken early, ready to make the most of the day. And the next morning we were to be picked up for what would be another cracking day.

Wildlife of New Zealand

When most people think of New Zealand, they think of grand vistas, towering mountains, reflective lakes and sweeping glaciers. But whilst it wasn’t top of my considerations when I first moved here 5.5 years ago, I’ve discovered that it is a country brimming with wildlife too, many of which is endemic to (can only be found in) New Zealand. The country has long flaunted its clean, green image, and whilst there are certainly those who would argue the truth in that, there is certainly no denying that this country is brimming with countryside, nature areas and untouched wilderness. Coming from the UK where every inch of the place has been conquered, owned and settled on, I still find it astounding that there are parts of New Zealand where people just haven’t and can’t set foot. Vast hectares of the southwest are like a jungle and many of the southern fjords remain accessible only by boat.

With no native land mammals, the native birds grew flightless, and in some cases large. Although the giant Moa and its hunter the giant Haast’s Eagle, have long since been made extinct by the arrival of man, New Zealand still remains an island nation of flightless and ground nesting birds. Unfortunately, the accidental and deliberate introduction of mammals and pest species has left some species extinct, and others critically endangered, but find the right piece of forest and the cacophany of birdlife in the canopy brings goosebumps. It is a bird enthusiast’s paradise here, and nowhere else in the world is there an alpine parrot, who’s cheeky antics are always a joy to watch.

With mile after mile of coastline, the seas around New Zealand are breeming with incredibly diverse marine life from the smallest plankton to some of the largest marine mammals in the world. On land, sea and air, there is always something to see if you know where to look.

MAMMALS

Sperm Whale

These behemoths are most consistently spotted off the coast of Kaikoura in the South Island. The 1200m deep Kaikoura Canyon just 500m off shore leads out into the Hikurangi Trench, a 3000m submarine canyon that skirts north past the North Island. This depth houses a submarine world that includes giant squid, the favoured diet of the 56-ton male sperm whales that reside here. Viewed either by plane where the whole body can be appreciated, or by boat where you can get up close to watch them idle at the surface then dive to the depths.

 

Bryde’s Whale

Similar in size and shape to the Minke whale, the best place to see these shy whales is the Hauraki Gulf near Auckland and the Coromandel Peninsula in the North Island.

 

Bottlenose Dolphin

These large dolphins are best spotted in the Hauraki Gulf and around the Bay of Islands in the North Island.

 

Dusky Dolphin

These playful and acrobatic dolphins are smaller than the bottlenose dolphin. Best spotted off the Kaikoura coastline in the South Island. Although difficult to spot in this photo, there are two dorsal fins poking up in this photograph.

 

Hector’s Dolphin

Like the almost identical Maui’s Dolphin, these are the smallest and rarest dolphin in the world. They are also unusual in having a rounded dorsal fin unlike other dolphins that have a pointed fin. They are endemic to New Zealand, found nowhere else in the world. The most consistent place to spot them is off the coast of Banks Peninsula to the east of Christchurch, particularly around Akaroa, although they can be seen up and down the eastern coast of the South Island.

 

New Zealand Fur Seal (kekeno)

Although they look fat and uncoordinated on land, they are acrobats and outstanding hunters in the water. Recovering from years of historical hunting following the habitation of New Zealand, they are abundantly spotted up and down the coastline of the South Island. Guaranteed places to spot them are the coastline of Kaikoura Peninsula, Banks Peninsula near Akaroa, Cape Foulwind near Westport and the outer coastline of both Milford and Doubtful Sounds in Fiordland.

New Zealand Fur Seal

 

European Rabbit

One of many deliberately introduced pest species, these non-native rabbits and hares are most easily spotted in open pastures. The Ministry of Primary Industries estimate their presence in New Zealand results in $50M of lost production and so there are multiple methods in place to reduce their numbers.

 

BIRDS

Kea

The world’s only alpine parrot, these immensely intelligent and fascinating birds are a much-loved sighting in the mountains of the South Island where they are endemic. They have easily become my favourite bird since moving to New Zealand. The most consistent place to spot them is around Arthur’s Pass on the west coast road in the Southern Alps. As they associate humans with both food and toys, they are more than happy to come right up to you, and have been known to work in mobs as decoys whilst they steal your belongings.

 

North Island Kākā

This vulnerable species is another endemic parrot species, living at lower altitudes than the Kea, in low-mid altitude forests. Infrequently spotted in wilderness areas, the Zealandia Sanctuary in the capital city of Wellington offers near-guaranteed sightings of these playful birds.

 

New Zealand Falcon (Kārearea)

The only falcon in New Zealand, they are more commonly spotted in the South Island, especially around bush or the high country. This particular bird was one of two that kept me company at the summit of Roys Peak by Wanaka.

 

Tui

Another endemic bird, they have a beautiful song which is a lovely accompaniment to a woodland walk. With their puffy white bib they have a distinctive look, and are more easily spotted in the North Island, although they are present in the South Island albeit to a lesser degree.

 

Bellbird (Korimako)

For me, this endemic bird has the most beautiful song of all the forest dwellers of New Zealand. I love listening to them when I’m out hiking in the bush. Commonly spotted in the woodlands of both islands.

 

House Sparrow

One of many introduced bird species, I’m used to these birds from growing up in Scotland, but I’ve been struck by how much bolder the New Zealand descendants are. Commonly spotted in rural and urban zones, they are a regular visitor to outdoor cafe tables in the city as they brazenly look for wayward crumbs.

 

Song Thrush

Another introduced species, these can be spotted in woodland areas and occasionally urban gardens.

 

New Zealand Fantail

These playful little birds love flitting through the trees as you walk by. The more common variety has a grey back and yellow belly, but there is also a colour morph in the South Island which is black.

 

North Island Saddleback

Even if you can’t see these birds, boy do you know if they’re around: they’re an incredibly noisy bird. An endemic species, they have seen a local resurgence at the Zealandia Sanctuary in Wellington after having previously been extinct on the mainland.

 

Yellowhammer

Introduced from Europe, this pretty little bird loves nothing more than a tree to perch on near open land to sing its song from.

 

Eurasian Blackbird

Introduced in the second half of the 19th century, the blackbird is now the most widely distributed bird in the country and is commonly seen in rural and urban areas.

 

Chaffinch

Another introduced and widely distributed garden and arboreal bird.

 

North Island Brown Kiwi

The species of bird that New Zealand is probably most globally famous for, these birds are actually very difficult to see in the wild and it is said that most human Kiwis (natives of New Zealand) will never see their avian namesake in the wild during their lifetime. The best chance of seeing a kiwi is actually in Stewart Island where they aren’t so strictly nocturnal. This particular bird was rescued following an injury and is now used for education at a wildlife sanctuary in Northland.

 

California Quail

Introduced as game from North America, they are established in pockets of the North and South Islands and are found fossicking around the undergrowth.

 

Takahē

One of many of New Zealand’s endemic flightless birds, originally there was both a North Island and South Island variety, but the former is extinct. Even the latter was thought to have been lost to history but surviving birds were discovered and thanks to intensive conservation efforts it survives. Most of the population (just 306 in 2016) survives on predator-free offshore islands, but it is possible to see them wandering in Zealandia in Wellington as well as in Te Anau in Fiordland where there is a captive breeding programme.

 

Pūkeko

Known by its Māori name in New Zealand, it is known by the rather less interesting name of Australasian Swamphen in other countries. I fell in love with this bird when I moved to New Zealand and love their comical look and walk. Easily found around wetland areas.

 

Spur-Winged Plover

Like their Northern Hemisphere counterpart, these birds are often sighted around wetlands, or pastures. Their call is quite distinctive.

 

Canada Goose

Widespread in the South Island, but localised in patches of the North Island, these large geese are best spotted on grassland close to waterways.

 

Weka

Another one of New Zealand’s flightless birds, I’ve often overheard tourists confusing these guys for kiwi. Spotted in a variety of habitats from woodland to the coast, mainly in the South Island.

 

Pied Stilt

A distinctive wetland or estuary bird.

 

White-Faced Heron

First spotted in the 1940s, these are a very common heron spotted nationwide around waterways.

 

Black Swan

Spending most of my life in Scotland, I grew up with white swans. Initially a novelty seeing black swans, they’ve quickly become my norm here. Evident in waterways in both the North and South Island.

 

Grey Teal

The largest concentration of these ducks is Canterbury in the South Island although they can be found in the North Island also.

 

Mallard

Commonly spotted in urban rivers and lakes as much as in rural regions, and present in both the North and South Islands. One of the game species allowed to be hunted during the shooting season. Hunting is very popular here with an estimated 500,000 mallards and hybrids shot every year.

 

Paradise Shelduck

Another of New Zealand’s endemic birds, I think they have the cutest ducklings of any duck species I know. Widely visible nationwide, including in urban parks. The fluffy ducklings are a common sight in spring in Christchurch’s Botanic Gardens.

 

Blue Duck (Whio)

If you see one of these, you are very lucky. Endemic to New Zealand they are Nationally Endangered due to both predation from introduced mammals and competition for resources. They have a preference for high quality water and reside in very small geographic pockets. I was lucky enough to spot this solitary whio in Tongariro National Park.

 

New Zealand Scaup

Found on the many lakes of New Zealand nationwide.

 

Variable Oyster Catcher

Commonly-spotted shoreline bird nationwide.

 

Pied Shag

Of the 36 species of shag worldwide, 12 of them are found in New Zealand. This species is the most commonly spotted, seen singly or in groups around coastal regions.

 

King Shag

Exceptionally rare (836 were recorded in 2015), these endemic shags only reside in the Marlborough Sounds and specifically on just 4 special rocky sites. They may not look anything special, but to see such a rare bird is a true privilege.

 

Spotted Shag

Another endemic shag species, mainly spotted in the South Island. In this photograph, the spotted shag are behind the king shag.

 

Stewart Island Shag

Another endemic species of shag, generally around the southern parts of the South Island and Stewart Island. There are two colour morphs, both of which are seen in the photograph.

 

Little Blue Penguin

The smallest species of penguin, these are the same as Fairy Penguins in Australia. The outer reach of Akaroa harbour on Banks Peninsula, South Island is one of the more reliable places to spot these little guys, but I also saw one whilst kayaking off the Coromandel Peninsula in the North Island. Otherwise, there are rescued ones on display at the International Antarctic Centre in Christchurch, where a home is provided for injured birds that won’t survive in the wild.

 

Fiordland Crested Penguin

An endemic species of penguin, these penguins are localised to the south-west of the South Island and the coast of Stewart Island. Listed as vulnerable, I was lucky enough to see 6 of them swimming as 3 pairs whilst on a nature cruise in Doubtful Sound in Fiordland National Park.

 

Southern Black-backed Gull

Similar to their Northern Hemisphere counterpart, these are a common sighting around New Zealand’s coastal regions. Bigger than the other gulls they can be a bit of a bully.

 

Red-billed Gull

The most common gull sighting around the country, they are easily spotted nationwide.

 

Southern Royal Albatross

One of the two largest species of Albatross in the world, seeing these large birds is an awesome sight. Spending the vast majority of their life at sea, they come to land only to breed. Most of the world’s breeding sites are on offshore and uninhabited islands, but on the Otago Peninsula near Dunedin in the South Island, it is possible to visit the only mainland breeding colony in the world.

 

Australasian Gannet

Their Northern Hemisphere counterpart has always been my favourite seabird growing up in Scotland. Not as commonly spotted as in my native land, the best place to see them is Cape Kidnappers to the east of Napier in the North Island. Here there are 3 colonies that nest in the breeding season.

 

REPTILES

Tuatara

New Zealand’s endemic reptile, tuatara are the only surviving lizard of their order, which started 200 million years ago. In other words, there were tuatara around when the dinosaurs existed. They are exceptionally difficult to spot in the wild and are under threat from predators. Most people’s best bet of seeing them is at a zoo, however, Zealandia in Wellington has a small number that live a semi-wild existence, and if you are lucky, you can see them in the undergrowth when visiting there.

 

Green Gecko

There are multiple subspecies of green gecko that are endemic to New Zealand. Due to predation, they are now very rare. Seeing one in the wild would be a sheer fluke, but several wildlife centres have them on display. These guys were at Orana Wildlife Park in Christchurch, New Zealand.

 

INSECTS & ARACHNIDS

Chorus Cicada

The sound of thrumming from these abundant endemic insects is one of my favourite sounds of summer. Found nationwide wherever there are trees, they are at their peak in January and February.

 

Brown Cricket

Crickets are a common accompaniment to hikes up mountains where the size and colour of the cricket can vary depending on the altitude.

 

Green Cricket

Smaller than the brown crickets, I have been regularly hit on the face by these as they jump away when I’m out hiking.

 

Squeaking Longhorn Beetle

Another creature endemic to New Zealand, they have long antennae, and are spotted seasonally from spring to autumn.

 

Huhu Beetle

The largest of New Zealand’s endemic beetles, they are capable of flying. They are best spotted in and around forests as their grubs love rotting wood.

 

Cave Weta

Another endemic insect, there are 60 subspecies of cave weta. Despite their name they are often found outside of caves in the forest, but I spotted this large collection down an old mine entrance near Wellington.

 

Stick Insect

Probably one of the hardest insects to spot due to their incredible camouflage, they are actually very abundant throughout New Zealand.

 

Honey Bee

Like many places, these guys are in decline, but due to the market for Manuka honey products, they are often farmed and seen easily in the summer months out and about.

 

Monarch Butterfly

Probably the most striking butterfly, they are found nationwide. I’ve ended up having to handle these loads because my cat’s favourite game in summer is to grab them, bring them inside the house and let them go.

 

Kawakawa Moth

Endemic to New Zealand and found nationwide.

 

Carove’s Giant Dragonfly

Endemic to New Zealand and found nationwide, although more commonly on the western half.

 

Glowworm

The most beautiful light in the darkness is that created by the larvae that cling to caves and forest walls and light up at night to entice their prey. The most famous caves to see these are those of Waitomo in the North Island, and the glowworm caves near Te Anau in the South Island is another pay-to-enter cave with guaranteed sightings. However, there are many places to spot them for free if you know where to go, just ask the locals. They are hard to photograph unless you are a professional with the equipment to match. These faint twinkling lights were seen at Abbey Caves near Whangarei in Northland.

 

White-tailed Spider

Introduced from Australia, there is a North Island variety and a South Island variety. They are bold spiders that hunt other spiders. They also move quickly and have been known to bite people and pets.

 

AQUATIC/OCEAN LIFE

Cave Lobster

I didn’t even know it was possible to see these in inland caves until I came across one whilst exploring Abbey Caves near Whangarei in the North Island.

 

Crayfish (kōura)

Similar to lobsters, the particular species found around New Zealand are endemic to these waters, with a separate variety between the North and South islands. They are a popular seafood to eat in the country, and the name of the town Kaikoura incorporates the crayfish, translating to ‘eat crayfish’. Best spotted on your dinner plate or if you are a scuba diver.

 

Cockles

Another popular seafood, these are often spotted in the tidal zone on beach walks.

 

Eleven-Armed Sea Star

The largest starfish of New Zealand.

 

Black Coral

Normally growing in deep water due to their preference for darkness, the tannin that leaches into the Fiordland waters creates a false darkness that allows the coral to grow relatively close to the surface. The internal structure is black (hence the name), but they appear white on the outside.

 

Fish

The waters around New Zealand are rife with life, with many fish species to be found if you are a scuba diver or a fisherman.

 

Wildlife of Scotland

It is said that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. After spending over 28 years of my life living in Scotland, it took moving to the other side of the world to really appreciate some of my homeland’s special qualities. As brimming as it is with beautiful scenery, it is also full of wildlife, both urban and rural. Over the last few years I have become a bit of a bird enthusiast, and I’ve found myself paying more attention to the feathered creatures that flit about around me. Whenever I go abroad, I’m very conscious of the wildlife that lives in that foreign land, and now when I go back to Scotland, I see the wealth of wildlife with fresh eyes. From cities to lochs, and mountains to the coast, there is something to spot everywhere. Special mention goes to the otter, red fox, red squirrel, hedgehog, minke whale, harbour porpoise, bottlenose dolphin, basking shark, white-tailed sea eagle, buzzard, kestrel and osprey which I have had the joy of seeing but haven’t been able to photograph.

MAMMALS

Reindeer

There’s only 1 herd of reindeer in the whole of the UK and they roam the mountain tops near Cairngorm, many of them coming down daily to hand-feed from visitors.

Adult Reindeer

Reindeer calf

 

Red Deer

The ‘Monarch of the Glen’, the male deer in full antlers and rutting mode is a sight (and sound) to behold. Spotted in the mountains and moors.

Red deer in Glen Muick

 

Roe Deer

The shy and solitary member of the deer family. Much harder to spot than the other deer species. This one was spotted in Caithness.

Roe deer

 

Grey Squirrel

An introduced species that has played a major part in the decline of the native red squirrel, these guys are a common sighting in parks and gardens, and are easy to spot without even leaving the city.

Grey squirrel

 

Rabbit

Seen as a pest by some, rabbits are often easy to spot in farmland and open fields.

Rabbit

 

Common Seal

From a distance, the common and grey seal can look very similar. Usually spotted hauled out onto rocks up the west coast or on the islands.

Common seal

 

Grey Seal

Newburgh beach north of Aberdeen offers near guaranteed sightings of these seals. They usually haul out on the protected north side of the Ythan river there, and can also be seen swimming in the river itself watching the beach goers and dogs go by.

Grey seal in the Ythan river

Seals hauled up on the beach at Newburgh

 

Humpback Whale

A seasonal visitor to Scottish waters, they can be spotted for a very short time in the waters around the islands of the west coast.

Humpback whale off the west coast of Scotland

Humpback whale fin slapping

 

White-beaked Dolphins

Feeding pods can be spotted around the islands off the west coast if you are lucky.

White beaked dolphins in Scottish waters

White-beaked dolphin leaping

 

Common Dolphins

These deep sea feeders are my favourite species of dolphin. They can be spotted off the west coast if you are lucky.

Common dolphin

 

BIRDS

Pied Wagtail

These are commonly spotted garden and pasture birds and are widely spread across the country.

Pied wagtail

 

Chaffinch

The colourful male is easy to spot in gardens and green spaces. The female blends in more and is less distinctive, but the species is well spread across the country.

Chaffinch (male)

Chaffinch (female)

 

Blackbird

Another common visitor to gardens and green spaces. This juvenile was trying to grab the attention of its parents.

Blackbird (juvenile)

 

Wood Pigeon

This is the porky version of the common run-of-the-mill street pigeon that plagues city centres. Although they will occasionally be seen amongst their scrawny city-dwelling cousins, they are more usually seen in the suburbs or near woods.

Wood Pigeon

 

European Robin

The recognisable robin redbreast that adorns many a Christmas card is best spotted in gardens.

European Robin

 

Starling

A common and easily spotted bird in both urban and rural areas. These birds often flock together in mesmerising murmurations in the evening as they prepare to roost in large groups.

Bedraggled starling parent

 

House Sparrow

Another common and easily spotted garden bird.

House Sparrow

 

Song Thrush

These are the birds that I fondly remember from my childhood, singing away in the trees behind my parent’s house. They have a beautiful song, and are best spotted in areas with trees, but this includes many public green spaces and gardens.

Song Thrush

 

Carrion Crow

One of the county’s most diversely spread birds, they don’t seem fussy with their habitat and can be spotted in both urban and rural areas either singly or in groups. They are adaptable and have a varied diet, and are also known to be intelligent.

Carrion Crow

 

Swallow

Less spotted than the more common and similar-looking swift, these birds love to fly over high-insect zones such as farmland and waterways. They are exceedingly agile on the wing and are amazing to watch in action. It is also rare to see them on the ground and uncommon to see them perching as most of their life is spent on the wing.

Swallow

 

Common Linnet

This is a bird I never knew existed until I was going through my photos after my most recent trip home and wondered what it was. I’m certainly not aware that I have ever seen one before. This colourful male was spotted near the coast on Papa Westray in the Orkney Islands.

Common Linnet (male)

 

Mallard Duck

Anyone who has ever fed bread to a duck in a city park in Europe and North America has likely been feeding these guys. They are everywhere, and have been introduced to many other countries outwith their original range.

Mallard Ducks

 

Mute Swan

Another common occupant of urban waterways as well as coastal estuaries. I grew up knowing nothing but white swans, and remember a news story from my childhood about a black swan that appeared in the river in the town of Ayr south of where I lived. There is something very majestic about these creatures, although they can be very vicious if you get too close, especially when they have youngsters.

Mute swans on the farmland

 

Common Redshank

A lover of dampness, these birds are best spotted around marshes, meadows and lakes. Despite its name, its not as common as it used to be.

Common Redshank

 

Northern Lapwing

It is usually their cry that draws your attention to these birds. Although they are wading birds, they are best spotted on farmland and cultivated pastures. Unfortunately, population numbers are showing a decline and they are classified as a threatened species.

Northern Lapwing

 

Great Grey Shrike

I photographed this bird but didn’t know what it was at the time. Their preferred habitat is grassland with shrubbery, and it is uncommon to spot them. This particular bird was spotted near the coast next to some open farmland in summer time which is unseasonal as they usually migrate to breed elsewhere.

Great Grey Shrike

 

Pheasant

Native to Asia, the pheasant was introduced historically as a game bird. Many a painting adorning Scottish castles and mansions will depict dead pheasants hanging in a kitchen or off the arm of a shooter. Even today, these birds are still popular to shoot during the right season. To shoot them with a camera, they tend to be found in the countryside where they like to dash out in front of cars on rural back roads, and are occasionally spotted when out hiking in the glens.

Pheasant (male)

Pheasant (female)

 

Red Grouse

Another bird that is still shot in Scotland during the beating season. They are very difficult to spot, hiding in amongst the heather of the open moorland in the highlands and some of the islands. It is easier to spot them on a bottle of whisky where their image has had a worldwide audience thanks to the Famous Grouse brand. I came very close to standing on this little grouse chick that was easy to overlook and refused to move when I got close. I’ve never seen an adult in the wild.

Red Grouse (chick)

 

Eurasian Oyster Catcher

With their distinctive call, they can be the rowdy accompaniment to any beach walk and are one of many bird species that wander around the tidal zone looking for a meal.

Eurasian Oyster Catcher

 

Ringed Plover

These pretty little birds are another common sighting at the beach, feeding in the tidal zone, and often seen in small groups.

Ringed plover

 

Common Sandpiper

These migratory birds are only seen in the summer months but are beach goers that forage in the tidal zone, and are more solitary in their habits than the ringed plover who they share a habitat with.

Common sandpiper

 

Curlew

The largest wading bird in Europe, the curlew is sadly a threatened species. Usually seen on their own, they can be spotted either on the shoreline or inland.

Curlew

 

Temmincks Stint

One of many similar looking shore birds seen around the tidal zone.

Temmincks Stint

 

Common Eider

These large ducks are sea-dwellers, living along coastlines of Europe and North America. They are an easy spot in Scotland due to the distinctive colouration of the male and their size.

Eider (male)

Eider duck (female)

 

Red-breasted Merganser

This migratory diving duck breeds in Scotland, and this particular female was spotted in Loch Lomond cruising near the shore.

Red-breasted Merganser

 

Black-Headed Gull

A commonly spotted gull near the coastline.

Black-headed gull

 

Common Gull

As the name suggests, these are a common sighting, mainly on the coastline but can be spotted in cities and farmland. They are bigger than the black-headed gull but smaller than the black-backed gull.

Common gull

 

Black-backed Gull

The big bully of the gull world, there is no shortage of these gulls around Scotland and they will happily scavenge in urban zones as much as the coastline.

Black-Backed Gull (juvenile)

 

Fulmar

These birds are wanderers of the sea, only coming to shore for the sake of breeding. They are a loud and common sighting along many coastlines in the summer months.

Fulmar

 

Great Skua

Also known as Bonxie, these large birds are the robbers of the bird world. Why obtain your own fish when you can steal from another? They can be spotted at rest on land or more commonly seen swooping and mobbing at other sea birds in the air or on cliffs.

Great skua

 

European Shag

Shags and cormorants are terms used differently for different birds within the cormorant family. They are best spotted on rocks where they like to spread their wings wide to dry. This nest with juveniles was on Papa Westray in the Orkney Islands, but they are widespread along the Scottish coastline.

Shag parent with chicks

 

Gannet

This is one of my favourite sea birds and are most impressive when seen diving at great speeds from the air to catch fish. A flock of diving gannets can be a good way to find feeding whales and dolphins as they will often track feeding pods where the fish are pushed nearer the surface.

Gannets

 

Puffin

One of Scotland’s most special birds. Unfortunately their numbers are in decline as they are selective feeders. I remember seeing great flocks of these when I was younger, and now they are in small clusters. Despite their petite size, they spend most of the year at sea, returning to land only to breed where they nest in burrows. The cliffs on the west coast of Mainland Orkney, Faraid Head in Sutherland, and the Isle of Staffa are recommended places to spot them in the summer months.

Puffin

 

Guillemot

A similar size to the puffin, though much more populous, and often seen hanging around in the same places.

Guillemot

 

Razorbill

Another cliff-loving sea bird, they are often seen milling around near guillemots.

Razorbills

 

OTHER – THE OFTEN OVERLOOKED INSECTS, AMPHIBIANS AND FISH

Six-Spot Burnet

This pretty moth was spotted amongst the dunes on the Aberdeenshire coast.

bug at the beach

 

Hairy caterpillar

One of many reasons to watch where you tread. This guy was crossing the hiking path on the West Highland Way.

Caterpillar

 

Blue Damselfly

A pretty little dragonfly, their colour is mesmerising. Spotted near a loch in Sutherland.

Blue damselfly

 

Golden-Ringed Dragonfly

A beautiful and large dragonfly, I spotted this one whilst out hiking in Cairngorm National Park, although they are more widespread in western Scotland.

Dragonfly

 

Snails

Slugs and snails are a gardener’s pest but I like snails, and think the ground-dwelling creatures of the world are under-appreciated. This group of snails were hanging out on a post in Barra, in the Outer Hebrides.

Group of snails hanging out

 

Black Slug

The ugly slug of the slug world.

Black Slug

 

Brown Slug

The not-so-ugly slug of the slug world.

Mr Slug

 

Frog

The famously wet climate means amphibians can find plenty of habitat to choose from in Scotland. Unfortunately several species are on the decline due to predation, disease and habitat destruction. This frog came into a mountain bothy I was staying in whilst out hiking in the Cairngorm National Park.

frog

 

Blue Crab

One of many crabs that can be spotted on Scottish beaches. This one was at Faraid Head in Sutherland.

Blue crab

 

Sunfish

Also known as the mola, this is the heaviest boned fish in the world. It is really rare to spot these in Scottish waters, but they occasionally pop up due to the ocean currents. I was exceedingly lucky to spot this impressive fish off the coast near Tobermory on the Isle of Mull, many years ago.

Sunfish

 

Moon Jellyfish

One of the more common jellyfish in Scottish waters.

Moon jellyfish

 

Jellyfish

Another jellyfish in Scottish waters. To some people, jellyfish are horrible creatures, something to fear. Whilst I don’t want to swim amongst them, I certainly like looking at them move around the water.

Jellyfish

Northern Limits

On the shore of the beautifully serene Lake Mývatn, there is something to explore at every turn. I was disappointed to have run out of time to include a hike up the distinctive cone of Hverfjall volcano thanks to my misdemeanour with the tyre on route to Dettifoss but as much as the hours were marching on, the fact that the sun wasn’t setting till after midnight meant that there was still lots of time to explore the area before my bed called me. DimmuborgurNot far from Hverfjall was the mysterious world of Dimmuborgur, an area where a lava flow has hardened, cracked and peaked in a manner as to produce tall, spiky turrets and pillars of all sorts of shapes and sizes. Lava rocks at DimmuborgurThere are a selection of trails to follow and I chose the one that looked like it gave the best overview of the place. Lava cave at DimmuborgurUnlike the sites I’d previously visited in this area, the vegetation here was thick and widespread. Lake Myvatn from DimmuborgurThere was a cave that could be walked through on one section of the trail and on route back to the car park, a raised portion of the trail provided a good vantage point to look across to the lake and its far shore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After collecting some takeaway pizza from a popular local eatery, I headed to the south shore, to the little settlement of Skútustaðir to enjoy it whilst looking out across the lake. Lake within a lakeFrom here, a walk leads round a small lake within the main lake that is surrounded by pseudo-craters, as well as up onto and around a few of the larger craters. Waterfowl at Lake MyvatnThe lake had quite a few water birds floating around with their young in tow, learning how to dive and feed below the surface. Panorama of the lake within a lakeIt was a lovely place to spend the evening but the flies threatened to drive me a little insane. Pseudo-craterIt was a strange landscape with circular mounds sprouting up from the ground in many directions, and from the crater rim of the taller ones I could see across to the steaming vents of the power station to the east of Reykjahlíð. Pseudo-crater behind the lake within a lakeIt was incredibly peaceful, just a slight ripple on the water, and for the most part, I had the place to myself. Ducklings at Lake MyvatnOn the northern edge of the lake within the lake, some Icelandic ponies chewed on the grass which was plentiful here, before the path skirted some wetlands on its way back to the car park.