Plenty of birds in the Bay

After the longest time at the wheel I’ve ever had, my family and I crawled out of our smelly, cramped Ford Fiesta into the glaring Bay of Plenty sunshine. After an early lunch of famous Maketu Pies, we headed to the mouth of Maketu estuary, where I watched stunning White-fronted Terns speed past masses of Red-billed and Kelp Gulls. The piping of Variable Oystercatchers was carried along the wind as my excitement grew, as it had been far too long since I had associated with these beautiful birds. After walking a while with my family, I struck out on my own onto the sandbanks, festooned with binoculars and camera and scope. In the distance, partially obscured by the heat haze, newly arrived Bar-tailed Godwits rested on the sand. Meanwhile, some movement on the sand a few metres in front of me alerted me to several pairs of New Zealand Dotterel running in circles madly. They were absolutely beautiful in breeding plumage, with a lovely orange wash on their breast feathers. While I wasn’t fortunate enough to see any nests or young, no doubt these birds were breeding or would be soon. An irritable White-faced Heron croaked at me and took off, fish in its bill. As I wandered further out onto the wet sand, the shimmer over the sand receded, and I was able to pick out a flock of Royal Spoonbills, forty of them! Two were nearby, again in stunning breeding plumage with a crest of pure white feathers and a pale orange breast. I admired them further for a while, watching their bills move side to side as they sifted through the water. At this point, a group of five titchy Wrybill fearlessly approached me, coming to well within three metres. Watching them, and a fair distance from the main dotterel flock was an odd-looking bird. It seemed a shade smaller than the NZ Dotterel, with dark patches under the eyes and an entirely grey-and-white body. For a few minutes I attempted to get a few closer photos of this bird, thinking it to be perhaps a Greater Sand-Plover, but after running it past some experts they all concluded it to be an immature New Zealand Dotterel. Oh well, one day I’ll find something actually rare! As I turned back, I scanned the godwit flock with my binoculars. Dissatisfied with the view, I tried to open up my tripod, catching my fingers in the process. Eventually, I had the ungainly legs of my tripod in a satisfactory position and examined the hundred-or-so tired-looking birds. Nothing stood out as being particularly odd, though, so I left them alone and returned to the car with nothing to show except a sore finger, sandy feet and a few photos. 

The estuary mouth

The rocky shoreline to the east

A stunning New Zealand Dotterel

A White-faced Heron

Wrybill on the sand

The confusing second-year NZ Dotterel

A regal-looking Royal Spoonbill

All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable excursion, and I hope to return when all the birds are back from the Northern Hemisphere!

Invisible Knot

I awoke at the ungodly hour known to fellow birders, checking that I had my scope, tripod, notebook and some food. Glancing in my wardrobe, I elected not to take my warm puffer jacket, as it seemed like too much weight for a day that was supposed to be warm. I won't be making that mistake again.

Russ C and I took off from Ngaruawahia in the pre-dawn darkness, keeping our eyes peeled for something interesting. For me, who hadn't seen Cattle Egrets in New Zealand before, these were a biggie, as I knew that I didn't have long left to see them before they migrated to Australia. No egrets though, and no Black Kite at the spot on Oram Road, my latest instalment in a number of failed attempts to see this rare raptor. Our spirits undampened, we hurried north to Papakura where we met with a crowd of other birders. Our quest - to locate the rare Great Knot in a flock of common Red Knots. The knot had been seen at Kidd's Shellbanks, one of the best birding locations in New Zealand, and so we set forth to 'twitch' this bird.

As we crossed through the paddock en route to the shellbank, Paradise Shelducks mingled with Pied Stilts to our left, while South Island Pied Oystercatchers flew overhead. The grey skies and cold southerlies made me regret my lack of suitable clothing, but I shrugged it off and we pressed on. Upon arriving at the shore, we were greeted by a few New Zealand Dotterels and Banded Dotterels. As we made our way east, we saw Ruddy Turnstones, Wrybill, and of course, Red Knot. No Great Knot yet, and as we arrived at the end of the spit we hunkered down and waited for the tide to push the birds closer.

To my delight, a tiny Red-necked Stint ran around on the soft mud only a few metres away, pursued by a few Wrybills. A Whimbrel was spotted at the end of the spit, and a Black-tailed Godwit hung around with the main godwit flock. We began to head back, vigilant for a glimpse of the seemingly fabled Great Knot. As the tide reached its peak of around 4m, we had to wade through freezing mud, aided no doubt by the freezing wind, and my hands were shaking so much I couldn't hold my scope steady! Nevertheless, we soldiered on, and I was reduced to using my binoculars to try and catch a glimpse of a bird with a slightly longer bill than the others. At this point it was almost needless to say that we saw nothing of interest, and slunk back to our warm vehicles.

A hot pie and drink later, and I was almost warmed up. Russ and I wound back to Ngaruawahia, with some unsuccessful attempts to get close to the Tuakau Wastewater Treatment Plant (birders are weird) and a quick check of Lake Whangape - almost nothing there. All in all, I'm glad to have gone and very grateful to have been invited on this trip. I got to see some places that I have never seen before and also saw a few birds that I hadn't seen this year - Whimbrel, Turnstone, Black-tailed Godwit and, most embarrassingly, New Zealand Dotterel. While the knot remained elusive, birding remained an excellent way to enjoy a Sunday morning, racking up a great total of 44 species.

Second time lucky!

On the 19th of May this year, a single drake Northern Shoveler was spotted on the Stilt Pools at Miranda. This bird was the precursor to a whole spate of sightings, all drakes, from anywhere from Christchurch to Nelson, to Hawkes Bay. In total, at its peak, the Northern Shoveler incursion had peaked at six birds. Incredibly, this was almost half of the total number of accepted sightings ever!

The day after the Miranda bird was spotted, I managed to score a lift from my girlfriend's parents to go and try to see the bird. Despite my fast response, all I got were comments of "You should have been there this morning", and the prestigious title of Bird of the Trip had to go to the Kotuku (White Heron) in the mangroves. No shoveler for me.

The sightings continued to roll in, and it seemed that every birder I knew had seen that bird. My inbox filled up with rare bird alerts, all pertaining to the multitude of shovelers. A few weeks and I was convinced that I was being taunted by this bird. With typical bad timing, my mid-year examinations started straight after I dipped, cutting my days down to school, study and sleep. With slothlike sluggishness, that horrendous time passed, and so I again turned my thoughts to that miscreant bird. Every day could be its last in the country. But miraculously, instead of flying over the horizon, another shoveler turned up! My hopes soared, and I fought for a chance to twitch once more. Of course, my parents were baffled, as to them a duck is a duck. But I must have done something right, and so one Sunday morning, on the first of July, my wonderful mother let me drive us up to the stilt pools once more. After some pretty non-committal comments from Keith Woodley, I ventured out with a scope on my shoulder. No stone was left unturned, no Australian Shoveler unchecked. At ten I hunkered down in the hide, straining my eyes and holding my breath as I surveyed the far-off ducks on the shellbank. This was the spot that had been the most reliable in the past six weeks, and as you can imagine I was almost shaking. While the Royal Spoonbills were nice enough, the duck remained elusive as others came and went. It had been sighted only two days prior, and so it seemed to be just my luck that this was a seemingly invisible bird.

The heat haze shimmered in front of two shovelers, one obscuring the other, as I tracked them at 60x magnification. The front bird was an Australian Shoveler, the back bird... I would find out in the next few seconds. As one slowly overtook the other, I began to see the all green head and white body of a Northern Shoveler! At first, I had to blink a few times to confirm that it wasn't a hallucination conjured up by my racing mind. After pinching myself, it was still there in all its glory! Tick! I had a good look for about half a minute, then took my eye away from the scope to record the bird. When I searched for the bird again, it was gone. Ephemeral, almost dreamlike, a needle in a stack of haystacks. Mine was the second-to-last sighting, and the bird has not been seen since. No photos for me, no field sketches. Just a mark in a book and a second-rate blog post. Birding in its arguably purest form. As I wandered back to the Shorebird Centre, the Kotuku put its head up from its position amongst the mangroves and watched me go.

Migrating South!

It's a long one this time! I initially tried to split this up by days but it was taking too long. Hope you don't mind!

My journey began, as all good birding trips seem to, at 3am Monday morning. I threw on my warmest clothes, jumped in Dad’s tiny Ford Fiesta, and we were off. At 5 I arrived at Auckland airport, a balmy 12 degrees, and had a full hour to master the intricacies of the self-check-in kiosk, wheeling my optics-filled suitcase through the terminal. At 6 I was sitting on the runway, counting off the first birds of the trip. Spur-winged Plover. Check. Welcome Swallow. Check.

After a short delay, we left the tarmac in the predawn darkness. The dark clouds above me were foreboding, but I pushed such thoughts to the back of my mind and watched the watery sun break over the horizon. At 7:30 we landed safely in the labyrinthine Christchurch airport, and I had a solid 4 hours to puzzle over the complexities of the pelagic birds we were likely to see and expand my Canterbury list out to 5 species. Thankfully, the security guards didn’t seem to mind my airport birdwatching, and at 11:30 I was back in the air, marvelling at the braided rivers below me and the Southern Alps to my right. After 45 minutes or so, I was welcomed to Dunedin by Lloyd Esler, the head honcho as far as this camp was concerned, and settled down to wait for the other young birders to arrive. Once we had assembled, ornamented by all manner of binoculars and cameras, we piled into the vehicles and headed south.

We pulled in to Invercargill that afternoon and caught up with the other half of our birding squad, who described the Brown Creeper and Sooty Shearwaters they had seen that morning, to our obvious jealousy. As this was my first time birding in the South Island there was renewed magic in every bird, and the black phase New Zealand Fantails were especially special. We assembled at Lloyd’s house after dinner, admiring the veritable treasure trove of avian paraphernalia among the seal bones, space junk, and (oddly enough) the “Museum of prickly objects”. He gave us the rundown on how the trip was going to roll and handed out some bird booklets with a whole bunch of other freebies (Cheers Southland Tourism!). We climbed into our creaky bunk beds scarce able to sleep, dreaming of the birds we would see in the morning.

A small part of Lloyd's collection!

The next day was brisk (absolutely glacial) and breezy (think gale force winds), but our spirits weren’t dampened as these proved to be excellent conditions for the morning’s seawatch. At the Bluff ferry terminal, Buller’s, Salvin’s, and White-capped Mollymawks were nice and close in, my first look at such birds. Untold numbers of Sooty Shearwaters zipped past further offshore, while the odd Black-fronted Tern ‘bounced’ past. A welcome Foveaux Shag stayed for a while, before moving off, another new bird! At 9, we boarded the ferry, eyeing the churning sea, but we were reassured by the calm-looking staff. This turned out to be a poor way of predicting the conditions, however, as once we had powered out to sea the waves rose to five-metre swells, tossing our ferry around like a bit of driftwood. My only distractions were the magnificent mollymawks almost within arms reach, and a small pod of dolphins seemingly undeterred by the weather. It began to hail, and once I lost feeling in my fingers I paid devout attention to the horizon, and little else.

“WHITE-HEADED PETREL!” Someone called over the howling winds, and I staggered across the deck awash with seawater, throwing myself against the railing desperately trying to catch a glimpse of this bird. It was to no avail, however, and my failure to lock eyes onto this Pterodroma would haunt me for the rest of the trip (I’m still recovering!). Resigned to my bird-blindness, I returned to my seat and clung onto nearby objects in a futile attempt to remain upright, or at least stable. After an eternity we pulled into Oban, and I lurched onto the pier. The hail hadn’t relented, and as we dragged our belongings to our new lodgings we were predictably soaked. However, despite the less-than-ideal weather, once our stomachs had settled we brightened up again (except for those who didn’t get seasick - they were cheerful the entire time, lucky sods!), and it was easy to quickly fall in love with the idyllic town. Kaka screamed and whistled from the mighty pine trees, and more Foveaux and Spotted Shags perched on the offshore rocks. A gorgeous Buller’s Mollymawk was taking shelter below the pier, unshaken by our presence.

By far the most stunning of the mollymawks! This one was sitting just below the pier!

Once we had stored our luggage safely away in our very comfortable lodgings, we met up at the Lions International Pavilion (or, more simply, The Pavilion) where we would be based while we were on the island. After a quick conference and lunch, we all went out, either walking or driving, to Mamakau Reserve, where a predator-proof fence kept rats, mice and deer out of the point. No mustelids here though, and this success meant that we were accompanied by an array of fantastic bush birds, including Red-crowned Parakeet, New Zealand Bellbird and Kereru. Our guide for the afternoon educated us on the plethora of traps, poisons, and other defensive measures used to keep the reserve’s endemic wildlife safe, and told us how the reserve once had the highest Tokoeka density on the island (and therefore, in the world!). This got our hopes up, but it turned out that we were clearly too noisy a party to attract any Tokoeka. However it was a thoroughly enjoyable walk around, and we were taught about the dazzling array of flora and fauna in the area. Sadly, I was foolish enough to wear shorts as my jeans (bad move again!) got soaked during the pelagic, and so I was forced back to the pavilion to warm up.

Hail on the bowling green!

The rest of the crew made it back alive just before dinner, and after hot showers and dry clothes we all trooped out to Acker’s Point on a quest for Sooty Shearwaters and penguins. A single Little Penguin was shuffling up the beach when we went past, our first for the trip, as well as a sole Sooty Shearwater moaning from its burrow. Tired but enthusiastic, some of us plopped into bed while the more adventurous ones went kiwi-spotting. At this point, I was not one of those.

Wednesday was the biggest day as far as birding was concerned, and the weather was actually looking pretty mild. Excitedly, we boarded the Aurora suitably early and chugged out to Ulva Island where we divided into groups. As expected, Ulva was spectacular, with a multitude of rather special bush birds. Weka was my first, running along the golden sand at the pier. Another new bird! As we got into the bush, Brown Creeper were fairly numerous, as were (to my delight!) Mohua/Yellowhead. Parakeets were abundant, chattering excitedly in the canopy, however to my frustration, only Red-crowns could be successfully identified, and unlike other groups, we dipped out on Yellow-crowns. This defeat, however, was offset by our extraordinary number of victories, and we bagged South Island Robin and Saddleback pretty early on. The robins were amazingly friendly, coming so close my camera couldn’t focus! Weka were bold and fearless, one even picking the crumbs off my sleeve when I crouched down to take a photo! We all found great joy in feeding the weka by turning over rocks on the beach, and the weka were intelligent enough to rush over like hungry chickens and scoff the crabs trying to get away. Rifleman were unexpectedly rare, as my previous experience with them on Pirongia had led me to believe they were always abundant. We did get good views of a few, although they were moving far too fast for a clear photo. As we ambled down the track we reflected on the species seen so far and came to the conclusion that the only ones we had missed were YC Parakeet and Tokoeka. A rustling right by my feet led me to jest that it was the very kiwi we were after, and I naturally dismissed it as yet another weka. Something prompted me to check though, and when I crouched down I saw not the beady eye of a weka, but the striped grey behind of an enormous Tokoeka! That wasn’t all though, and for reasons unknown, the bird decided to lumber out in front of us and run down the gravel track for a good sixty seconds! I nabbed a few blurry photos and it was gone, never to be seen by us or any other group again. Magical.

Sunny Ulva Island

One of the inquisitive Weka

A South Island Saddleback

One of the charismatic South Island Robins

The Tokoeka! At last!

A Tomtit on the beach

One of the Mohua

Once we had finished up on Ulva, we all boarded the Aurora again and headed into the open ocean. With Matt Jones from Wrybill Tours as our knowledgeable guide, we had high hopes for this trip. Almost immediately we were surrounded by almost a hundred mollymawks, as well as the comically ugly Northern Giant Petrel. Graceful, delicate Cape Petrels begun to land near our boat, my first look at these birds. As we neared another small island, someone’s sharp eyes spied a black-and-white crested penguin - either Fiordland or Snares Crested! Photos confirmed it as a Snares Crested-Penguin to our excitement, and we ticked off the first UBR-able bird of the trip! A few Prions flew past, tantalisingly close, but we were unable to identify them and they remained mysterious. The odd Common Diving-Petrel whizzed past, looking like a “flying block of butter”, as David described them. Some breathtaking Southern Royal Albatrosses made a nice comparison to the smaller mollymawks and proved to be every bit as awe-inspiring as I had heard. Once we were almost out of sight of land, we started chumming, and the birds were very obliging. The mollymawks soon left us in stitches with their cacophony of honks and shrieks, and it seemed very hard to reconcile their graceful looks with their barbaric and frantic squabbling. Much like some people I suppose!

Up until now, the sea had been oddly calm, a far cry from yesterday’s churning and rolling. Of course, our luck couldn’t hold out for long, and soon the landlubbers among us (myself included) were hanging onto anything that didn’t move. We didn’t stop our quest for birds though, and our persistence was rewarded by a Procellaria flying right in close. Initially, it was declared to be a White-chinned Petrel, but closer examination revealed a rare Westland Petrel, the second record for an Aurora pelagic! We neared some of the famous (infamous!) Muttonbird Islands and added yet another penguin for the list…. Yellow-eyed Penguins were present around the islands, two prominent on the rocks. A new bird for me and many others, and absolutely stunning to look at! At this point, we turned back, to people’s disappointment or delight. Seasickness was now rife amongst us, and the islands were soon behind us as we powered back to Oban. However this didn’t keep us from looking for a few extra birds, and a surprise Hutton’s Shearwater or two kept things exciting. Some of us decided that we were done for the day, but I and a few others went kiwi-spotting yet again, without success. I wasn’t too bothered given my earlier sighting, but a few others were and went out again, seeing one very close up at the park.

Thursday was a chill day in multiple ways. The wild weather kept us layered up, while we refrained from any particularly crazy birding antics. In the morning we wandered out to Golden Bay, seeing nothing incredibly exciting bird-wise, but had a nice look at the seaweed and mollusc diversity, while in the afternoon myself and the other newbie birders were taught the intricacies of identification in the field, as well as note-taking. Michael then educated some of us on the art of lawn bowls, which to my surprise I actually enjoyed, and after dinner, we went to the gymnasium for a bit of running around. A group of us learnt how to play Squash off of Wikipedia, and we swiftly became adept (just kidding, I can’t play sports!). Ability aside, we had a lot of fun and climbed into bed exhausted and praying for some half-decent weather for the crossing tomorrow morning.

All of the blue skies from Wednesday had vanished without a trace, but to our delight (and apprehension) the ferry was still running. For some reason, a Cook’s Petrel was sheltering in a stack of pallets, and Ian carefully extracted the bird and sent it on its way. Once it was time, we nervously boarded the ferry and set off. Thankfully the swells weren’t as bad as I had been fearing, but throughout the crossing, I remained nauseous and fixed my eyes on the horizon to avoid an 'incident'. At one point a dark tern flew past, and to our agony was not properly identified, but it was likely to be an Antarctic or Arctic Tern. A few storm-petrels were strung off the back, and the candidates I managed to see magically turned into diving-petrels...oddly enough. Needless to say, I missed out on those ones.

After an only slightly traumatic trip I had my feet on dry land again, and our first stop was the Pak’n’Save in Invercargill where we loaded up on junk food and drink. We moved on to the currently miserable Pleasure Bay where the rarities that had been at the lagoon earlier that year (Whiskered Tern, Northern Shoveler, Chestnut-breasted Shelduck) had mysteriously evaporated, but we did see some nice Royal Spoonbills among the ducks.

Next, we journeyed to Borland Lodge near Fiordland National Park. We stopped off at a few spots on the way, turning up nothing out of the ordinary until we arrived in Blackmount. When we got out of the car, we listened to the briefing by one of the staff, before George frantically herded us into the vans again to see the Chestnut-breasted Shelduck he had seen just 200 metres down the road! I was one of the first to be shuttled to the bird, and got a few photos before… it flew. Another UBR-able rarity! It boggles the mind to think of the infinitesimal chance we had of seeing this one, yet we were fortunate enough to see one! The shelduck kept popping up in nearby fields, and everyone got a great look at it over the few days we were there. That night we went out down the road hunting for Little Owl. Despite some fairly convincing noises we could only lock in Morepork for the night which was a little disappointing, but only strengthened our resolve to return one day.

My blurry shelduck photo

The next morning we arose horrendously early, and the clouds had receded enough for the snow-clad mountains nearby to be visible. First stop was Te Anau, where we had a look for some Crested Grebes, but they remained elusive. Lots of Scaup and Canada Geese were present though, and the views were so stunning that we left Te Anau as happy as clams. We slowly gained altitude, stopping off at Mirror Lakes to look for Marsh Crake and reflect on our progress so far… Nothing much there though, so we moved on to Lake Gunn where my first Yellow-crowned Parakeet of the trip made its presence known (finally!) along with lots of Riflemen and robins. This was the trip where South Island Robin was cemented as my all-time favourite bird, as they were amazingly confiding and while trying to get a shot for Fruzio (one of our sponsors) one perched on the box of frozen berries! So photogenic! Anyway, once we had wrapped up our walk around the famous beech forest, we moved on to Monkey Creek, where the charismatic Kea strutted boldly around the carpark. These were a bird I had wanted to see for a long long time, and to have them so close was an incredible experience. At this point, Ian had gone over to a bridge and was searching the rushing water for Whio. He spotted a pair, followed by a third, and called us over. Eventually, I saw them too, and Blue Duck was added to the list! Then, to add to our excitement, the pair flew right upstream, and we managed to get to within a few metres of these rare birds.

One of the inquisitive Kea getting too close

Whio braving the rapids

Tension built as we neared the Homer Tunnel. Some would argue that this was the target bird for the entire trip, living in often inaccessible alpine areas and declining in number rapidly. Rock Wren were the big ones for today, despite their diminutive size, and we were all nervous and excited as we clambered up the rocks. We were briefed on what we were looking for and spread out among the scattered boulders. Dunnocks and squeaky boots added to the confusion, as we were listening for the slightest ‘pip’ from one of the wrens, and these elements made it a hundred times more difficult. For around half an hour we searched, but to no avail, and it was a disgruntled bunch of birders that got back into the vans. Rock Wren was a new bird for almost every young birder on the trip, and we were all pretty hopeful to start with. Oh well, all the more reason to come back!

After a few short stops, we arrived at the Milford Sound foreshore, where the first bird to greet our eyes was the regal White Heron… perched on top of a campervan! The obliging driver let us get some photos before he left, and the sight of the beautiful heron trying to keep its balance while he drove off was absolutely hilarious. The kotuku then flew onto yet another vehicle and contrasted nicely with the black Audi it was perched on. Again, we got to within a few metres leaving the heron amazingly calm and dignified right in front of us. Eventually, it was time to go and we headed back to Borland Lodge for dinner and sleep, our last night of the trip.

Trying to look majestic on a car roof!

Ok, ok, I couldn't stop taking photos!

Finally, a crisp, clear day… just as we left! A New Zealand Falcon saw us off, and we hit the long road to Rakatu Wetlands. The wetlands were really quite stunning, and some Grey Duck surprised us, hidden amongst the other more common waterfowl. After a little persuasion, three Fernbird showed themselves, but only allowed us fleeting glances as they hid in the bushes. No crakes though. We left Rakatu for dreary Lumsden, then Gore (my least favourite town in the whole world!), and we said our goodbyes as me and a few others had to go and catch an earlier flight. We weren’t quite done yet, though, and a quick visit to Kaka Point added my last ‘lifer’ of the trip - Otago Shag. I left Dunedin on an incredible 20 lifers, and all up it was a fantastic trip.

The stunning Raketu Wetlands

Can you spot the fernbird!?

My favourite bird of the trip has to be the obliging Tokoeka on Ulva, while there were also some nice surprises such as Snares Crested-Penguin, Westland Petrel, Hutton’s Shearwater and Chestnut-breasted Shelduck. Big dips were Rock Wren, Crested Grebe and, for me, White-headed Petrel. Huge thanks must go to the trip organisers, the adults who put up with us for a week, and of course Lloyd Esler. I should also thank the other keen young birders who helped make the trip so enjoyable, and Fruzio and Waikato OSNZ for sponsoring me! I definitely couldn’t have made it without the financial help they gave, and I am very grateful to them for that.

The next 10 days...

It's been an action- and bird-packed few days, as I try and bump my year list up. I'll try and keep it short.

January 11th - Walking up Mt Te Aroha, followed by a visit to the slightly creepy Howarth Memorial Wetlands. Few bush birds around, however, there were some baby Dabchicks and a few Grey Teal in the wetlands. No sign of any crakes though.

January 12th - Fairly uneventful, although I managed to catch up with the resident New Zealand Pipit hanging around the back of our road, as well as a few Lesser Redpolls. Late that night I boarded the bus to Wellington.

January 13th - I arrived at Wellington the next morning, snatching four hours sleep on the bus. I met with George Hobson - a fellow birder - and his dad. We began driving up the coast to Otaki Wastewater Treatment Plant, where we picked up Michael Burton-Smith and Huia Wesling-Macgregor. Thanks to George's sharp eyes I got my first lifer of the year - Black-fronted Dotterel and we kept going up the Kapiti coast. Bar-tailed Godwit and Red Knot at Ohau Estuary as well as a Barbary Dove, followed by some Banded Dotterels at Foxton Beach and Black-billed Gulls at Lake Horowhenua - all new for my year list! We made it to Whanganui, where we dipped on New Zealand's only known population of Nankeen Night-Herons, but picked up Mute Swan at Virginia Lake and New Zealand Falcon and North Island Robin at Kemp's Pole, among others. A big day indeed!

January 14th - Straight on to a bach in Pungarehu, Taranaki Region, with my family. An afternoon seawatch at Cape Egmont yielded a whole swag of lifers - Sooty, Flesh-footed, Buller's Shearwaters, and Common Diving-Petrel. Buller's Shearwater was number 120 on my NZ list... No mollymawks or albatrosses though.

January 15th - 18th - Our Taranaki holiday continued, with much beach birding but nothing extra-special. A bit of bush birding too, with Rifleman being the highlight.

January 19th - Heading home, we stopped at Mapara Scenic Reserve to look for kokako. No luck though, however Long-tailed Cuckoo and New Zealand Falcon were nice consolation prizes.

January 20th - Sat at home. Wrote blog post.

First 10 days of the year - wrap up.

As I am a lazy and apathetic teenager, I thought that instead of documenting each of my birding adventures (if you can call them that!) this month, I would instead summarize each day in a few sentences as I begin my year-long quest to see as many birds as I possibly can in a calendar year. 90% of you will probably be fairly relieved to have a break from my clumsy pseudo-journalism, and the other person won't mind too much either. So, here we go:

1st January - After New Years celebrations, I escaped the house and sat in the garden for a few minutes until a Morepork called. The next morning, I ticked the common garden birds including Shining Cuckoo and Ring-necked Pheasant. In the afternoon I made it out to Hamilton Lake, where I got both geese, Spotted Dove, all the black-footed shags (Black, Pied, Little, Little Black), any easy birds I had missed that morning, and all the regular lake birds (Mallard, Coot, Pukeko, Feral Pigeon etc).

2nd January - Went to Kauaeranga Valley in Coromandel Forest Park with the family, getting NZ Pigeon (Kereru), Tomtit and Yellowhammer, as well as Kelp Gull in Thames.

From the 3rd to the 7th I had the awesome privilege of leading at a holiday camp in Ngaruawahia, so needless to say that nothing interesting birdwise went on.

8th January - Popped over to Pukemokemoke Bush Reserve, where California Quail was the only new one for the year.

9th January - Got up at an ungodly hour to go to Mt Pirongia, where many many Riflemen flitted around me, along with a Kaka, Whiteheads, and a Bellbird. Sadly I dipped on Falcon, Yellow-crowned Parakeet, Long-tailed Cuckoo and Kokako, but hey, that's the name of the blog.

10th January - Taitua Arboretum in the morning yielded exactly zero Guineafowl, however afternoon birding at Ngaruawahia Wastewater Treatment Plant got me Black Swan, Paradise Shelduck, Australian Shoveler, Grey Teal, Dabchick, Caspian Tern,  and finally, finally, FINALLY Spur-winged Plover.

In 10 days time hopefully I will get off my butt and write some more, and until then, enjoy your holidays!