I’m certainly not complaining, but what’s up with all the rarities the last two or three weeks. It’s not uncommon for rare birds to pop up around the Western Cape in February and March, but it’s been an action-packed few weeks, with a lot of lifers on the line for Milli and me.
The Alert Comes Through
Late in the afternoon on 4 March, I noticed a Telegram message on the rare bird group that had me quickly rearranging my day’s commitments. Just a week or so after a Macaroni Penguin had been located near Blouberg before being taken in by SANCCOB, another Macaroni Penguin was reported on a beach near Hawston – ironically, around 1 kilometer down the beach from where we had recently twitched the Black Tern. This individual is likely the same bird that had been seen briefly near Kleinmond a few days prior.
Thankfully it was at a point in the day where I had completed most of my workload and the opportunity to pop out for a twitch seemed reasonable.
A Quick Departure In Wild Weather
Grabbing the bins and camera, we made our way in some mixed weather conditions that were for the most part sunny and quite warm here in Somerset West. In fact, I opted for shorts and a vest to ensure I remain cool on the mission.
Driving over the mountain and arriving in Botriver, the weather was very different from back home. It was now not only misty, but raining too. I was hopeful we could find a nearby parking spot and avoid too much of a trek in the wind, rain, and mist.
Reports on the group stated the best parking was at Hawston beach parking lot, but my GPS didn’t seem to know where that was, and with urgency being a key feature of the twitch, I opted to park where we did for the Black Tern, on the Northern side of Mereenbosch. When we got there though, it was immediately clear we weren’t where others had parked. There were only two other vehicles in our area.
The Great Trek
Not wanting to miss the bird to indecision or a lack of commitment, I parked in the soft sand around the lagoon and set off on the trip. I set off on my natural speed-walking pace, much to the dismay of my shorter-legged partner, who needs two to three steps for each one of mine.
Within minutes my sunglasses were completely wet – the wind was blowing, the mist was only allowing us to see 50 feet ahead of us and the rain wasn’t helping matters either. The sunglasses were mostly redundant in the low light, but being prescription, taking them off would have reduced my visibility from 50 feet to 50 cm.
Not far from the car we already had a cool sighting of a group of Pied Kingfishers that were moving between a moored boat and an old dead tree sticking out from the water.
We walked for quite some time and eventually ran into a group of birders. “Yes, it’s got to be close”, I thought to myself. But it wasn’t long before they started to express empathy about the remaining distance. “Look, it’s still quite a walk that way. You’ve got to go past that old pier, then over the dunes – the bird is about 1.5 kilometers down the beach still.”
“It was at this point, he knew he fucked up…”
Clearly my parking spot was not the right one, and so we continued through the rough weather and our lack of physical fitness, soon reaching the dunes and shortly after, having conquered them.
I got a short burst of energy at this point, we were finally on the right beach and surely it couldn’t be that far, right?
In terms of pure distance, it wasn’t that bad – but the sand would swallow each foot step, which when moving at rapid pace, seems to put a lot of stress on the ol’ calf and Achilles. We continued, thick mist continuing to obscure the horizon, as the sound of crashing waves immersed us.
“Almost there, just keep pushing” – I would occassionally shout back at Milli, who was doing her best to keep up, while looking quite fragile, to be honest.
About a kilometer down the beach we finally ran into more birders, and this time we were offered a bit of relief. “Another 600 meters or so” – the end was in sight (except it wasn’t, as we could still barely see ahead of us).
“Follow the footsteps, the bird is where they stop”
A Silhouette In The Mist
Eventually – a silhouette in the mist.
I quickly reached in my bag and pulled out the bins, I just wanted to get eyes on the bird for now. It turns out Milli had visuals of it for a while, and I was mainly being nerfed by my saturated glasses. Stoked with the sighting, we had to get close – after all, at this point we were still quite some way away.
As we approached, we expected to see silhouettes of people too – but we didn’t. It seems we arrived at a point where no one else was around. Making sure to stay far enough away from the bird, I laid in the sand and started grabbing some photographs.
The bird was frequently preening itself, noticeably in moult, and it seemed very relaxed. Though at one point a large wave crashed in as the tide was pushing and swept the poor bird off its feet. In a scene reminiscent of a cartoon, the water knocked the seabird onto its belly where it spent several seconds flapping and kicking about as though it had never been in water before.
Without throwing shade, it wasn’t the most poised bird display I’ve ever seen – but it sure had personality. I just wish I hadn’t been clearing space on my SD card when it happened. I can highly recommend keeping a clean SD card on hand at all times, and I hope if I repeat that enough I’ll eventually listen to it myself.
While watching the bird, more people started arriving – some being dedicated twitchers and others just locals who had seen word of the bird on their local WhatsApp. Thankfully, everyone I spoke to seemed to want to keep a good distance from the bird and understood the stakes.
Photography was really challenging, as I had to push the ISO up, and the mist even made autofocus difficult, as even from 20 to 30 feet, the bird wasn’t too easy to see the details on. Digging myself into the sand on my stomach may not have been a wise move either, as I’d occasionally feel the distinct pinches and scuffles of the Sand Fleas that were crawling over me.
The Long Walk Back
With our mission having clearly been worthwhile, it was time to start heading back – a walk that took around 50 minutes. This time we could take it easy, walk slower and enjoy the rest of the environment. We came across some pretty cool shells along the beach, and with beach combing being another mild interest of ours, we followed the tide line, encountering a few dead Pufferfish in the mix too.
The sun, now close to setting and the weather clearing just a bit, the environment took on a new mood. Everything was becoming tranquil as the wind subsided, the lagoon, which had been choppy and mostly vacant, now had a large number of waders feeding along the sides.
We tried to spot the Yellow Wagtail, which Milli still needs for her provincial list – but didn’t have any luck. Still, we got the Macaroni Penguin and survived the walk. Both wins in our book.
