1st call on the sub-region's Golden Pipit [Ithala Game Reserve - KZN, RSA] coincided with our short trip out of town; far out of town. Our reaction was muted .. This then the 3rd specimen of its tribe to cock-a-snook at us - a two-fingered blocker; a panoply of bad timing & a swift kick to the nutmegs.
Johannesburg is rarely a waypoint for the ave. vagrant; a catch-all for unintended, lost souls on a wonky compass & / or maverick wanderers simply shooting the breeze. Most vagrants prefer somewhere off-the-beaten-track. That means we have to travel, far-afield, almost always.
These wanderers, in turn, are rarely desk-bound & usually offer the briefest of peeps. If life's dice roll the point, a win btw., we join the exodus & catch the bird snake-eyes - caught unawares, dizzy in uncharted woods & rusty on the local dialect. Yes sirree. We're an advanced species, a tag premised on instant porridge; instant coffee & instant soup. Twitching in a can is no less gratifying or instant. Get there a week late, however, and the canned granules are saliva-slippery from the spoons licked before. It's not my cup of tea. We went anyway.
Contrary to the feel-good press birders are a disruptive bunch: - the birds a Distant Tit to the list - a recorded leap of faith pillared on 'I think it was; therefore it must be'. That sentiment is often weak-minded under closer scrutiny; froth & indignation notwithstanding. This escapade proved no different. To end before we start, the bird had flown the keep sometime the day before - an inconvenience really & a calamity of whim, wind or weather. We'll never know.
Initially reported from atop a bush, not much more than a sand-wedge from the Mvunyane (Ntshondwe - wat dat?) Gate & later fairly reliable at the same flag variably throughout the days that followed; we few - we happy, happy few, thought we'd start our pan for gold .. there. We arrived in / under a cloud of mist, a second or two after open, to a confab of banshees, uproarious in volume rather than content. Out-of-the-vehicle shouts of 'the bird's not here', from within the bowels of the very tree still pinking from the bird, the day before, confirmed the loss. The nugget had gone - & wasn't that a helluva shock ... weather notwithstanding? Oblivious to the irony of it all, the travelling circus & its self-appointed ringsmen waxed on about unconfirmed sightings & hearsay post Tuesday, 3 or 4 days earlier. It's a claim the Wed / Thurs mob might find hurtful. The Sunday-morning arrival of Moe & Curly [Larry'd done a duck], in boards & tees, was another breath of hot air but ... I digress.
The bird wasn't there, here or anywhere & so it proved over the next 24 hours for those of us desperate enough to pan the fields. It's not that we didn't try - we did; hand on heart.
Back at the gate the keeper smiled wanly - whacked-out on the 'keep in your vehicle' ashlar. His studied view & I quote - 'they spooked (it) too much. The pipit's gone down - down in (sic) the valley.'
Ithala, a gold mine of riches, grades low, however, on road infrastructure & certainly nothing anywhere near 'into the valley'. As to who 'they' were we'll never know & what does it matter? We'd dipped. Our attempt was flawed, both in theory & out in the field. The grapes had gone sour.
Notwithstanding, we spent the night at Ithala's Ntshondwe Resort; a well-serviced rest-camp nestled high-up against the reserve's southernmost cliffs. The front-deck and the terrace, adjacent the dining area, offer sweeping views over the Ngubhu Basin. Getting to the camp is a pleasant, winding drive, through good habitat, on tarred road. Black & White Rhino are fairly common. We had memorable sightings of both. Other plain's game is equally abundant as are the birds. (We recorded 150+ sp. in our short stay. Specials included Bat Hawk & 2 sp. of crane.) The camp itself is colourful; an artist's palette of forest & montane specials. From the waterhole nearest the front-deck, frogs rise at sundown & chirrup on into the night. Sunset vistas are unsurpassed. Rates include a buffet breakfast & the food's not bad. Dinner is less inspiring but adequate given the locale. Our dinner was supposed to be a self-catered affair. The best-laid plans of mice & men.. Vervet Monkeys gained access to our cottage through a bathroom window no wider than a well-kept secret. The ensuing free-for-all in the kitchen, if the plastered poo & pee is anything to judge these things by, must have been a blast. We were pzzt ...
Anchored by overcooked venison [unforgivable in Africa btw.] & in chairs more comfortable than the situation warranted, we soon got to chewing the fat. Who 'they' were does, in fact, matter & not (only) because we dipped, although, betw. us, it's a bitter pill, but because it's the antithesis of bird-watching as an ethos.
A non-sedentary / migrant / vagrant bird, harassed by birders is mostly free to fly away. The causal loss is limited to an experienced emotion for late-comers to the site. The negative effects on the bird itself are minimal I would guess. A collated sightings report eg: the SARBN, which pinpoints & subsequently concentrates birders at a particular site, has little long-term impact on the effected birds even if the bird is sent packing. The positive spill-over for the participating community, as a whole, outweigh any perceived short-term negative consequences for the bird in question unless, of course, the bird is injured or killed in the melee. I know of no such case. I have, however, seen transgressions that are outrageous, callous, indifferent & often illegal. Trespassing is common. A momentary lapse or an instance of mistaken identity, particularly in low-light conditions, is an accident the community doesn't need. Where birders, responding to a public report, target a resident bird the consequences for the bird are more severe. Well-documented cases of abandonment, stolen eggs etc. are common. I concede the point that people mean well & or are caught-up in the excitement of a sighting but it isn't enough.
Bird-bothering as opposed to birding is an irritation, of course, but not necessarily as severe as the safari hats & boots make it out to be. Amateur photographers, in particular, are targeted as repeat-offenders. Some are more susceptible to acts of bird-bothering. Youth, exuberance, cynicism or the pursuit of a misguided sense-of-belonging are just a few of many social pitfalls.
Looking back at some of the photographs posted on the SARBN, it's fairly obvious the bird-botherers were hanging on its every word. Photographs of flight-shots & those in which the bird was displaying suggest 'they' know who 'they' are. Sure I got there late & the evidence is subjective / circumstantial only but dammit man, have a heart. The bird's supposed to be silent in Southern Africa.
These wanderers, in turn, are rarely desk-bound & usually offer the briefest of peeps. If life's dice roll the point, a win btw., we join the exodus & catch the bird snake-eyes - caught unawares, dizzy in uncharted woods & rusty on the local dialect. Yes sirree. We're an advanced species, a tag premised on instant porridge; instant coffee & instant soup. Twitching in a can is no less gratifying or instant. Get there a week late, however, and the canned granules are saliva-slippery from the spoons licked before. It's not my cup of tea. We went anyway.
Contrary to the feel-good press birders are a disruptive bunch: - the birds a Distant Tit to the list - a recorded leap of faith pillared on 'I think it was; therefore it must be'. That sentiment is often weak-minded under closer scrutiny; froth & indignation notwithstanding. This escapade proved no different. To end before we start, the bird had flown the keep sometime the day before - an inconvenience really & a calamity of whim, wind or weather. We'll never know.
Initially reported from atop a bush, not much more than a sand-wedge from the Mvunyane (Ntshondwe - wat dat?) Gate & later fairly reliable at the same flag variably throughout the days that followed; we few - we happy, happy few, thought we'd start our pan for gold .. there. We arrived in / under a cloud of mist, a second or two after open, to a confab of banshees, uproarious in volume rather than content. Out-of-the-vehicle shouts of 'the bird's not here', from within the bowels of the very tree still pinking from the bird, the day before, confirmed the loss. The nugget had gone - & wasn't that a helluva shock ... weather notwithstanding? Oblivious to the irony of it all, the travelling circus & its self-appointed ringsmen waxed on about unconfirmed sightings & hearsay post Tuesday, 3 or 4 days earlier. It's a claim the Wed / Thurs mob might find hurtful. The Sunday-morning arrival of Moe & Curly [Larry'd done a duck], in boards & tees, was another breath of hot air but ... I digress.
The bird wasn't there, here or anywhere & so it proved over the next 24 hours for those of us desperate enough to pan the fields. It's not that we didn't try - we did; hand on heart.
Back at the gate the keeper smiled wanly - whacked-out on the 'keep in your vehicle' ashlar. His studied view & I quote - 'they spooked (it) too much. The pipit's gone down - down in (sic) the valley.'
Ithala, a gold mine of riches, grades low, however, on road infrastructure & certainly nothing anywhere near 'into the valley'. As to who 'they' were we'll never know & what does it matter? We'd dipped. Our attempt was flawed, both in theory & out in the field. The grapes had gone sour.
Anchored by overcooked venison [unforgivable in Africa btw.] & in chairs more comfortable than the situation warranted, we soon got to chewing the fat. Who 'they' were does, in fact, matter & not (
A non-sedentary / migrant / vagrant bird, harassed by birders is mostly free to fly away. The causal loss is limited to an experienced emotion for late-comers to the site. The negative effects on the bird itself are minimal I would guess. A collated sightings report eg: the SARBN, which pinpoints & subsequently concentrates birders at a particular site, has little long-term impact on the effected birds even if the bird is sent packing. The positive spill-over for the participating community, as a whole, outweigh any perceived short-term negative consequences for the bird in question unless, of course, the bird is injured or killed in the melee. I know of no such case. I have, however, seen transgressions that are outrageous, callous, indifferent & often illegal. Trespassing is common. A momentary lapse or an instance of mistaken identity, particularly in low-light conditions, is an accident the community doesn't need. Where birders, responding to a public report, target a resident bird the consequences for the bird are more severe. Well-documented cases of abandonment, stolen eggs etc. are common. I concede the point that people mean well & or are caught-up in the excitement of a sighting but it isn't enough.
Bird-bothering as opposed to birding is an irritation, of course, but not necessarily as severe as the safari hats & boots make it out to be. Amateur photographers, in particular, are targeted as repeat-offenders. Some are more susceptible to acts of bird-bothering. Youth, exuberance, cynicism or the pursuit of a misguided sense-of-belonging are just a few of many social pitfalls.
Looking back at some of the photographs posted on the SARBN, it's fairly obvious the bird-botherers were hanging on its every word. Photographs of flight-shots & those in which the bird was displaying suggest 'they' know who 'they' are. Sure I got there late & the evidence is subjective / circumstantial only but dammit man, have a heart. The bird's supposed to be silent in Southern Africa.
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