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Chile, Land of Condors and King Penguins (1 Viewer)
- Thread starter Jos Stratford
- Start date
Jon Turner
Well-known member
A great read thanks Jos. Looking forward to the rest of the journey.
The name of Bahía Inútil (Useless Bay in Spanish) caught my attention while reading your fascinating trip report. I supposed it was given by one of the earlier Spanish expeditions on that coasts, probably due to being useless against the prevailing bad weather. It sounded interesting! The reason proved to be right. But I was wrong about the namer. It was originally named in English, during the first voyage of HMS Beagle (Darwin's one was the second)
"As it affords neither anchorage nor shelter, nor any other advantage for the navigator, we have named it Useless Bay" King, P. P. 1839. Narrative of the surveying voyages of His Majesty's Ships Adventure and Beagle between the years 1826 and 1836, describing their examination of the southern shores of South America, and the Beagle's circumnavigation of the globe. Proceedings of the first expedition, 1826-30, under the command of Captain P. Parker King, R.N., F.R.S. London: Henry Colburn.
"As it affords neither anchorage nor shelter, nor any other advantage for the navigator, we have named it Useless Bay" King, P. P. 1839. Narrative of the surveying voyages of His Majesty's Ships Adventure and Beagle between the years 1826 and 1836, describing their examination of the southern shores of South America, and the Beagle's circumnavigation of the globe. Proceedings of the first expedition, 1826-30, under the command of Captain P. Parker King, R.N., F.R.S. London: Henry Colburn.
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This was part of why I loved being down there, was like travelling through history - almost mystical place names at every turn. Didn't know the above story though, thanks for posting - I had wondered if it was perhaps because it is a dead-end and maybe early ships trying to find their way through the Strait of Magellan were accidentally sailing up there, thereby possibly wasting days (70 km to the head of the bay).
26 December. Chiloe Island.
Last Black-browed Albatrosses and Southern Giant Petrels on the Strait of Magellan, then onto a midday flight for the two-hour hop to Puerto Montt. A different world up here, green and lush, a real temperate feel. Picked up another hire car and set off to the west, destination Chiloe Island.
Three dozen Sooty Shearwaters and seven Peruvian Pelicans from the ferry, then a moderately short drive around to Calun Bay, a mighty impressive bay of intertidal mudflats backed by steep wooded slopes. Less than 24 hours earlier, not only was it raining, but the area had also been hit by a large earthquake measuring 7.7 on the Richter scale, one of the largest in the region for many years and triggering a tsunami alert. Felt like groundhog day – I had been on Sri Lanka when the Christmas 2009 tsunami had brought its devastation.
Today however, all was calm, skies were blue, damage remarkably absent and Calun Bay absolutely teeming with birds. One of the world's most important areas for wintering Hudsonian Godwits in particular, the bay was teeming with birds, not only a minimum of 1800 Hudsonian Godwits, but hundreds of other waders mingling with them, including 180 or so Hudsonian Whimbrels, several hundred Baird's Sandpipers, a few dozen Red Knot, similar numbers of Sanderling and lesser numbers of American Oystercatchers, Southern Lapwings and both Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs. Equally impressive, 414 Black-necked Swans, at least 350 Black Skimmers and scattered other bits and bobs including a lone Flightless Steamer-Duck, seven fly-over Chilean Pigeons and rather good numbers of Chimango Caracaras.
One bird I was keen to see at this locality however was Snowy-crowned Tern, a localised species that apparently favours this bay. Loads of Kelp Gulls and Brown-hooded Gulls to sift through, a few Franklin's Gulls too. South American Terns milling around, but after about half an hour, suddenly I spotted my quarry - sat on adjacent fishing buoys, two Snowy-crowed Terns, smart birds indeed with their highway man masks. Maybe the birds had been on the buoys all along, but either way when I looked again a little later, they had gone and I never saw them again, nor the next day at this same bay.
Accommodation was beachside cabanas some kilometres west of Ancud, the route there via a moderately rough backroad from Calun to Ancud. Served its purpose though, a pair of the Chilean endemic Slender-billed Parakeets flying over midway. That aside, the track was actually fairly birdless, the odd Fire-eyed Diucon here and there, a few Long-tailed Meadowlarks also.
A bit of compulsory R&R at the cabin, then a meander further west to the wonderful beach at Punihuel. Here I finished the day, Blackish Oystercatchers trotting along the beach to the backdrop of Punihuel Island and its associated rocky islets. Only mere metres across the surf, a parade of Magellanic Penguins clambered up the rocky slopes of the island, other standing at entrances to burrows. Amongst them, at the very south of their range, a couple of Humboldt Penguins, plus a good mix of other seabirds, Kelp Geese and Flightless Steamer-Ducks included, plus at least 50 Red-legged Cormorants, six Rock Cormorants, four Neotropic Cormorants and 25 Imperial Cormorants.
Last Black-browed Albatrosses and Southern Giant Petrels on the Strait of Magellan, then onto a midday flight for the two-hour hop to Puerto Montt. A different world up here, green and lush, a real temperate feel. Picked up another hire car and set off to the west, destination Chiloe Island.
Three dozen Sooty Shearwaters and seven Peruvian Pelicans from the ferry, then a moderately short drive around to Calun Bay, a mighty impressive bay of intertidal mudflats backed by steep wooded slopes. Less than 24 hours earlier, not only was it raining, but the area had also been hit by a large earthquake measuring 7.7 on the Richter scale, one of the largest in the region for many years and triggering a tsunami alert. Felt like groundhog day – I had been on Sri Lanka when the Christmas 2009 tsunami had brought its devastation.
Today however, all was calm, skies were blue, damage remarkably absent and Calun Bay absolutely teeming with birds. One of the world's most important areas for wintering Hudsonian Godwits in particular, the bay was teeming with birds, not only a minimum of 1800 Hudsonian Godwits, but hundreds of other waders mingling with them, including 180 or so Hudsonian Whimbrels, several hundred Baird's Sandpipers, a few dozen Red Knot, similar numbers of Sanderling and lesser numbers of American Oystercatchers, Southern Lapwings and both Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs. Equally impressive, 414 Black-necked Swans, at least 350 Black Skimmers and scattered other bits and bobs including a lone Flightless Steamer-Duck, seven fly-over Chilean Pigeons and rather good numbers of Chimango Caracaras.
One bird I was keen to see at this locality however was Snowy-crowned Tern, a localised species that apparently favours this bay. Loads of Kelp Gulls and Brown-hooded Gulls to sift through, a few Franklin's Gulls too. South American Terns milling around, but after about half an hour, suddenly I spotted my quarry - sat on adjacent fishing buoys, two Snowy-crowed Terns, smart birds indeed with their highway man masks. Maybe the birds had been on the buoys all along, but either way when I looked again a little later, they had gone and I never saw them again, nor the next day at this same bay.
Accommodation was beachside cabanas some kilometres west of Ancud, the route there via a moderately rough backroad from Calun to Ancud. Served its purpose though, a pair of the Chilean endemic Slender-billed Parakeets flying over midway. That aside, the track was actually fairly birdless, the odd Fire-eyed Diucon here and there, a few Long-tailed Meadowlarks also.
A bit of compulsory R&R at the cabin, then a meander further west to the wonderful beach at Punihuel. Here I finished the day, Blackish Oystercatchers trotting along the beach to the backdrop of Punihuel Island and its associated rocky islets. Only mere metres across the surf, a parade of Magellanic Penguins clambered up the rocky slopes of the island, other standing at entrances to burrows. Amongst them, at the very south of their range, a couple of Humboldt Penguins, plus a good mix of other seabirds, Kelp Geese and Flightless Steamer-Ducks included, plus at least 50 Red-legged Cormorants, six Rock Cormorants, four Neotropic Cormorants and 25 Imperial Cormorants.
27 December. Chiloe Island.
In the green lush lands of Chiloe interior, a biological station now stands to mark the former haunts of Charles Darwin, a reserve that protects a thick mass of riverine and bamboo forest. And so it was, dawn at the Estacion Biologica Senda Darwin, calls of Chucao Tapaculo rising from streamside tangles, raucous squawks of three Slender-billed Parakeets flying over. My targets here were all elusive birds of weird and wonderful names, birds that favoured the forest depths and, even if found, would be a challenge to see. Top of this list of desired species was Black-throated Huet-huet, not far behind were Chucao Tapaculo, Magellanic Tapaculo and, a dream bird if ever there was one, Des Muirs' Wiretail.
A little beyond the actual station, a short circular trail leads through some prime habitat – initially mature forest with a moderately open understorey, then through dense bamboo growths along a stream. I walked a full circuit of the trail, I did see Thorn-tailed Rayadito, White-crested Elaenia and Tufted Tit-Tyrants, I did not see any of the desired birds (but did hear Chucao Tapaculo again). Hmmph, I decided I would walk it again. It was now a good hour after dawn and the forest did appear to be waking up – it had been eerily quiet in the dark depths of the forest, but certainly now a lot more things were actively calling. I could hear yet another Chucao Tapaculo and as I reentered the area dominated by mature trees, an unmistakable call of a Black-throated Huet-huet began to echo out. My description of it being an open area was perhaps overly optimistic – the reality was tangles of creepers, fallen branches and understorey plants, patches of open leaf litter separating them. And it was exactly in one of these jumbles of branches and green stuff, only a few metres from the trail, that the huet-huet was lurking. Relocating a little, I decided to just sit myself on the ground and wait. Rustling of leaves, shudderingly loud call, it was still there ...and then the first glimpses. Fat dumpy thing strutting across the leaf litter, jumping up moss-covered boughs blocking its path. Didn't respond to pishing, but it did continue to root about and eventually strutted right across the open path next to me, a Black-throated Huet-huet in all its glory. Maybe because of me, it then did a pretty good sprint across to an adjacent area of good cover, all further views being restricted to brief glimpses. So onward, my strategy was now to walk a few metres and sit a while, listening and watching for movement, then repeat. Didn't see or hear anymore huet-huets, but at the bamboo growths along the stream, I finally got to see a couple of Chucao Tapaculos as they edged up through low vegetation. Better was to come however – stopping at the furthestmost point of the trail, suddenly a little tiny grey thing zipped across the path behind me. Wasn't entirely sure it wasn't a mouse, but there it was again, a diminutive little bird creeping along the ground through hanging vegetation. Back and fro across the path several times, perhaps visiting a nest, the bird was a Magellanic Tapaculo, a super little thing. And then, right while I was watching this, a weak call from thicker vegetation to the one side caught my attention. Stuck my head into the undergrowth and there was a small orangy bird with a tail extraordinaire ...Des Mur's Wiretail!
What a good morning, stayed a while longer, adding three Green-backed Firecrowns to the day's tally, then headed back to Calun Bay (basically the same birds as the day before, minus any Snowy-crowned Terns) and thereafter to the cabin. It was now hot and sunny, so thoughts of adding Chile's last-remaining tapaculo to the haul were cast aside, basically zero chance I thought.
Instead, we decided to head back to Punihuel and take one of the little boat trips around the islets to see the penguins et al. Actually I was harbouring hopes of seeing Marine Otters, but they had reportedly been very scarce of late and we did not encounter one. It was however a very pleasant trip and there was a Humpback Whale doing some tail splashes as quite ample compensation for the lack of Marine Otter. Loads of Magellanic Penguins close to, a single Humboldt Penguin this day, plus Peruvian Pelican and plenty of Red-legged Cormorants in particular.
Back on dry land, so ended another day, this time touring a number of headlands and beaches, watching Peale's Dolphins jumping in the surf, a little group of Elegant Terns off one headland and a good general assortment of other stuff.
In the green lush lands of Chiloe interior, a biological station now stands to mark the former haunts of Charles Darwin, a reserve that protects a thick mass of riverine and bamboo forest. And so it was, dawn at the Estacion Biologica Senda Darwin, calls of Chucao Tapaculo rising from streamside tangles, raucous squawks of three Slender-billed Parakeets flying over. My targets here were all elusive birds of weird and wonderful names, birds that favoured the forest depths and, even if found, would be a challenge to see. Top of this list of desired species was Black-throated Huet-huet, not far behind were Chucao Tapaculo, Magellanic Tapaculo and, a dream bird if ever there was one, Des Muirs' Wiretail.
A little beyond the actual station, a short circular trail leads through some prime habitat – initially mature forest with a moderately open understorey, then through dense bamboo growths along a stream. I walked a full circuit of the trail, I did see Thorn-tailed Rayadito, White-crested Elaenia and Tufted Tit-Tyrants, I did not see any of the desired birds (but did hear Chucao Tapaculo again). Hmmph, I decided I would walk it again. It was now a good hour after dawn and the forest did appear to be waking up – it had been eerily quiet in the dark depths of the forest, but certainly now a lot more things were actively calling. I could hear yet another Chucao Tapaculo and as I reentered the area dominated by mature trees, an unmistakable call of a Black-throated Huet-huet began to echo out. My description of it being an open area was perhaps overly optimistic – the reality was tangles of creepers, fallen branches and understorey plants, patches of open leaf litter separating them. And it was exactly in one of these jumbles of branches and green stuff, only a few metres from the trail, that the huet-huet was lurking. Relocating a little, I decided to just sit myself on the ground and wait. Rustling of leaves, shudderingly loud call, it was still there ...and then the first glimpses. Fat dumpy thing strutting across the leaf litter, jumping up moss-covered boughs blocking its path. Didn't respond to pishing, but it did continue to root about and eventually strutted right across the open path next to me, a Black-throated Huet-huet in all its glory. Maybe because of me, it then did a pretty good sprint across to an adjacent area of good cover, all further views being restricted to brief glimpses. So onward, my strategy was now to walk a few metres and sit a while, listening and watching for movement, then repeat. Didn't see or hear anymore huet-huets, but at the bamboo growths along the stream, I finally got to see a couple of Chucao Tapaculos as they edged up through low vegetation. Better was to come however – stopping at the furthestmost point of the trail, suddenly a little tiny grey thing zipped across the path behind me. Wasn't entirely sure it wasn't a mouse, but there it was again, a diminutive little bird creeping along the ground through hanging vegetation. Back and fro across the path several times, perhaps visiting a nest, the bird was a Magellanic Tapaculo, a super little thing. And then, right while I was watching this, a weak call from thicker vegetation to the one side caught my attention. Stuck my head into the undergrowth and there was a small orangy bird with a tail extraordinaire ...Des Mur's Wiretail!
What a good morning, stayed a while longer, adding three Green-backed Firecrowns to the day's tally, then headed back to Calun Bay (basically the same birds as the day before, minus any Snowy-crowned Terns) and thereafter to the cabin. It was now hot and sunny, so thoughts of adding Chile's last-remaining tapaculo to the haul were cast aside, basically zero chance I thought.
Instead, we decided to head back to Punihuel and take one of the little boat trips around the islets to see the penguins et al. Actually I was harbouring hopes of seeing Marine Otters, but they had reportedly been very scarce of late and we did not encounter one. It was however a very pleasant trip and there was a Humpback Whale doing some tail splashes as quite ample compensation for the lack of Marine Otter. Loads of Magellanic Penguins close to, a single Humboldt Penguin this day, plus Peruvian Pelican and plenty of Red-legged Cormorants in particular.
Back on dry land, so ended another day, this time touring a number of headlands and beaches, watching Peale's Dolphins jumping in the surf, a little group of Elegant Terns off one headland and a good general assortment of other stuff.
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28 December. Chiloe Island.
Final day on Chiloe and final target – Ochre-flanked Tapaculo. Had checked out a few bits of possible habitat the previous afternoon and steep bamboo-clad slopes flanking a small bay just three kilometres from our cabin seemed just perfect. A bit of hazy mist at dawn, already several Chucao Tapaculos in good voice, two actually hopping along at the beachline where think vegetation hung down. Dark-bellied Cinclodes jumping about on the rocks, haunting calls of two Black-throated Huet-huets somewhere on the upper slopes.
Heard an Ochre-rumped Tapaculo after about 15 minutes, but short of waddling through thick squelchy estuarine mud there seemed no real chance of seeing that one. Followed a small track down the side of the bay, nice bamboo clumps growing high either side. No sign of a Ochre-rumped Tapaculo here, but where the track ended, one was calling very nearby, again seeming to be hanging out where thick vegetation actually hung over the mud of the bay. This proved to be a real skulker, it was actively moving between two adjacent patches of thicker vegetation, but generally was perfectly able of getting from one to the other unseen. Sat on a rock for quite a while here, a couple of Black-crowned Night Herons as company, and eventually got an amalgamation of views of the Ochre-rumped Tapaculo – flat head, orangy vent, basic silhouette. Only on one occasion did I get a full view when it briefly paused on an exposed twig before slipping back into thicker cover. Still, with that I had managed the full suite of Chilean huet-huets, tapaculos and allies, I was chuffed with that.
Ringed Kingfisher as a parting gift, then a drive across the island back to the ferry terminal. Very good crossing back to the mainland, the highlights of which were 12 Magellanic Penguins on the water, at least 40 Wilson's Storm Petrels milling mid-channel and 15 or so Sooty Shearwaters passing by. On the mainland side, both Flying and Flightless Steamer-Ducks, plus a mix of gulls, several Peruvian Pelicans and no less than 20 South American Fur Seals.
Realising we were now rather late, it was then a bit of a dash back to Puerto Montt airport where we dropped the car and checked in for our next flight. At 3 p.m., we departed for the two-hour flight to Santiago, connecting later with a slightly longer flight to Arica.
Arrived at 11.30 pm, a mere couple of kilometres south of the Peruvian border. Wonderfully warm, palm trees lining the road as we headed into the city, part four of the trip was about to begin.
Final day on Chiloe and final target – Ochre-flanked Tapaculo. Had checked out a few bits of possible habitat the previous afternoon and steep bamboo-clad slopes flanking a small bay just three kilometres from our cabin seemed just perfect. A bit of hazy mist at dawn, already several Chucao Tapaculos in good voice, two actually hopping along at the beachline where think vegetation hung down. Dark-bellied Cinclodes jumping about on the rocks, haunting calls of two Black-throated Huet-huets somewhere on the upper slopes.
Heard an Ochre-rumped Tapaculo after about 15 minutes, but short of waddling through thick squelchy estuarine mud there seemed no real chance of seeing that one. Followed a small track down the side of the bay, nice bamboo clumps growing high either side. No sign of a Ochre-rumped Tapaculo here, but where the track ended, one was calling very nearby, again seeming to be hanging out where thick vegetation actually hung over the mud of the bay. This proved to be a real skulker, it was actively moving between two adjacent patches of thicker vegetation, but generally was perfectly able of getting from one to the other unseen. Sat on a rock for quite a while here, a couple of Black-crowned Night Herons as company, and eventually got an amalgamation of views of the Ochre-rumped Tapaculo – flat head, orangy vent, basic silhouette. Only on one occasion did I get a full view when it briefly paused on an exposed twig before slipping back into thicker cover. Still, with that I had managed the full suite of Chilean huet-huets, tapaculos and allies, I was chuffed with that.
Ringed Kingfisher as a parting gift, then a drive across the island back to the ferry terminal. Very good crossing back to the mainland, the highlights of which were 12 Magellanic Penguins on the water, at least 40 Wilson's Storm Petrels milling mid-channel and 15 or so Sooty Shearwaters passing by. On the mainland side, both Flying and Flightless Steamer-Ducks, plus a mix of gulls, several Peruvian Pelicans and no less than 20 South American Fur Seals.
Realising we were now rather late, it was then a bit of a dash back to Puerto Montt airport where we dropped the car and checked in for our next flight. At 3 p.m., we departed for the two-hour flight to Santiago, connecting later with a slightly longer flight to Arica.
Arrived at 11.30 pm, a mere couple of kilometres south of the Peruvian border. Wonderfully warm, palm trees lining the road as we headed into the city, part four of the trip was about to begin.
Mystery duck ...
On the little bay (third picture) where the Ochre-rumped Tapaculo had the good grace to show, spotted this duck. Was rather timid and rapidly moved away.
Can't figure this as any obvious duck species that should be in the area, anybody got any idea?
In the absence of a better suggestion, I assumed it is some feral type thing (but against this, I didn't see a single feral type duck anywhere whilst travelling in Chile).
On the little bay (third picture) where the Ochre-rumped Tapaculo had the good grace to show, spotted this duck. Was rather timid and rapidly moved away.
Can't figure this as any obvious duck species that should be in the area, anybody got any idea?
In the absence of a better suggestion, I assumed it is some feral type thing (but against this, I didn't see a single feral type duck anywhere whilst travelling in Chile).
Attachments
James Lowther
Well-known member
Hi Jos, congrats on the tapaculo grand slam, I got 7/8...
Your wilson's petrels from the chiloe ferry are probably pincoya SP. It is basically the type locality.
James
Your wilson's petrels from the chiloe ferry are probably pincoya SP. It is basically the type locality.
James
Didn't know a new species of petrel had been discovered down there ...I was basing on 'Birds of Chile' which naturally lists the species present as Wilson's. Have to go and read those papers now :t:
James Lowther
Well-known member
There's a few missing (very new) splits in that book, patagonian forest earthcreeper and ticking doradito as well
JWN Andrewes
Poor Judge of Pasta.
It would appear you have rediscovered the Mariana Mallard! Well done you.
Seriously though, no idea.
Still enjoying the write up. Where to next one wonders? And how do you decide each time?
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Where to next has just been completed, hence the slight delay in updating this thread
As for how I decide, basically the trip needs some 'spark' - maybe an iconic or much desired species (bird, mammal, etc), maybe a location I have always fancied, maybe it conjures up some some of sense of adventure when thinking about it. Chile ticked all the boxes.
29 December. Azapa Valley & Arica.
Arid deserts rise from the outskirts of Arica, totally devoid of vegetation, a world of sand and rock rising into mountains and stretching for hundreds of kilometres north to south. Cutting through this, two thin slivers of greenery, the Lutra Valley to the north and the Azapa a little further south. Both cutting deep through the deserts, these not only serve as routeways between the coast and high Andes, but also are excellent birding locations, the southern outposts of a whole range of essentially Peruvian species.
No car this day, so took a collective taxi to San Miguel de Azapa, just15 km from Arica. Plan was to visit the gardens of the Museo Arqueológico, then later another site just beyond the town, both hotspots for hummingbirds. We arrived too early for the museum however, so started off by exploring scrub and orchards in the surrounding area – plenty of new birds here, amongst them Croaking Ground-Doves and their weird calls, Cinereous Conebills, Chestnut-throated Seedeaters and Blue-black Grassquits. Also a dozen or so Vermilion Flycatchers, numerous West Peruvian Doves, Peruvian White-crested Elaenia and masses and masses of Turkey Vultures rising from the dune slopes. By 10 a.m. it was already stinking hot – fortunately the doors of the museum were now opening, allowing us access to their shaded garden, a small oasis of watered lawns, towering palms and, critically, an abundance of flowering shrubs. With mummies, skulls and bones beckoning, my younger companion would have been quite happy to head straight into the museum itself, but was patient enough to allow me to linger for a half hour and more at one particularly productive line of shrubs. Hummingbirds zipping in and out with much regularity, Oasis Hummingbird common, the tiny Peruvian Sheartail even more so. A number of years ago, this latter hummingbird was unknown in Chile, but has since colonised the northern valleys and is today probably the most common species present. Unfortunately, pretty much simultaneously a third hummingbird, the Chilean Woodstar, has undergone a massive decline, disappearing from its localities in southern Peru and retreating at an alarming rate in its few Chilean localities.
Sitting here in the museum gardens, the challenge was of course to find a Chilean Woodstar. Adult males are easy enough, but the females and immatures are very similar to female Peruvian Sheartails. And typically, most of the hummingbirds present were indeed females and immatures! Zipping around at speed, many seeming to show a varying degree in underside shade and throat coloration, none seemed to tick the boxes for Chilean Woodstar. Did get a frustrating glimpse though of what appeared to be a male sporting full tail – was perched briefly at the far side of a bush, then zipped away, never to return.
Heat building, took a little break to satisfy the ghoulish desires of the little one to peer at the Chinchorro mummies. With exhibits depicting the early culture of the Chinchorro people, the small collection of mummified bodies and heads did their job, the little one leaving some time later quite content.
Thereafter, the next destination was at a 'hummingbird garden' a couple of kilometres further up the Azapa Valley. This was a smashing site, a dedicated lady turning her relative small plot into a mosaic of shrubs and trees all designed to provide cover and feeding for hummingbirds and others. Winding through the shrubs and an eclectic mix of odd ornaments, armchairs and small gazebos, small paths take you on a journey around the garden. Oasis Hummingbird and Peruvian Sheartail are both abundant, hovering at flowers and in general pursuit of each other, but so is the garden good for other species – more Croaking Ground-Doves, my first Slender-billed Finches, four Hooded Siskins and, in an orchard just beyond the fence, four Groove-billed Ani. After considerable effort with the hummingbirds, I found what I though was a female Chilean Woodstar ...but I am still somewhat doubtful over the identification, maybe just another Peruvian Sheartail.
A pair of Harris Hawks send panic amongst chickens as they tried to grab a free- ranger, two unknown parakeets flew over. Early afternoon, the heat was now really up! Walked back to the museum for another attempt to relocate the presumed male Chilean Woodstar from earlier in the day. Far less activity in the afternoon, but luck was in – after about 20 minutes, perching in exactly the same spot as had been in the morning, the male Chilean Woodstar did indeed appear, tail perhaps not fully grown, but crossing in its distinctive form when perched. And then, as earlier, off it zipped again, briefly pursued by a second hummingbird, both vanishing beyond the museum grounds.
Walked up to the main road and caught a collective taxi back to Arica. Spent the evening on a beach just north of the town – Peruvian Boobies, Band-tailed Gulls, Grey Gulls, Elegant Terns, Blackish Oystercatchers, just some of the birds present. To the north, vast clouds of gulls and terns roosted on distant beaches ...would check them out in coming days. As dusk approached, I made my way back to the airport and picked up a rental car, next morning would see us venturing into the mountains.
Arid deserts rise from the outskirts of Arica, totally devoid of vegetation, a world of sand and rock rising into mountains and stretching for hundreds of kilometres north to south. Cutting through this, two thin slivers of greenery, the Lutra Valley to the north and the Azapa a little further south. Both cutting deep through the deserts, these not only serve as routeways between the coast and high Andes, but also are excellent birding locations, the southern outposts of a whole range of essentially Peruvian species.
No car this day, so took a collective taxi to San Miguel de Azapa, just15 km from Arica. Plan was to visit the gardens of the Museo Arqueológico, then later another site just beyond the town, both hotspots for hummingbirds. We arrived too early for the museum however, so started off by exploring scrub and orchards in the surrounding area – plenty of new birds here, amongst them Croaking Ground-Doves and their weird calls, Cinereous Conebills, Chestnut-throated Seedeaters and Blue-black Grassquits. Also a dozen or so Vermilion Flycatchers, numerous West Peruvian Doves, Peruvian White-crested Elaenia and masses and masses of Turkey Vultures rising from the dune slopes. By 10 a.m. it was already stinking hot – fortunately the doors of the museum were now opening, allowing us access to their shaded garden, a small oasis of watered lawns, towering palms and, critically, an abundance of flowering shrubs. With mummies, skulls and bones beckoning, my younger companion would have been quite happy to head straight into the museum itself, but was patient enough to allow me to linger for a half hour and more at one particularly productive line of shrubs. Hummingbirds zipping in and out with much regularity, Oasis Hummingbird common, the tiny Peruvian Sheartail even more so. A number of years ago, this latter hummingbird was unknown in Chile, but has since colonised the northern valleys and is today probably the most common species present. Unfortunately, pretty much simultaneously a third hummingbird, the Chilean Woodstar, has undergone a massive decline, disappearing from its localities in southern Peru and retreating at an alarming rate in its few Chilean localities.
Sitting here in the museum gardens, the challenge was of course to find a Chilean Woodstar. Adult males are easy enough, but the females and immatures are very similar to female Peruvian Sheartails. And typically, most of the hummingbirds present were indeed females and immatures! Zipping around at speed, many seeming to show a varying degree in underside shade and throat coloration, none seemed to tick the boxes for Chilean Woodstar. Did get a frustrating glimpse though of what appeared to be a male sporting full tail – was perched briefly at the far side of a bush, then zipped away, never to return.
Heat building, took a little break to satisfy the ghoulish desires of the little one to peer at the Chinchorro mummies. With exhibits depicting the early culture of the Chinchorro people, the small collection of mummified bodies and heads did their job, the little one leaving some time later quite content.
Thereafter, the next destination was at a 'hummingbird garden' a couple of kilometres further up the Azapa Valley. This was a smashing site, a dedicated lady turning her relative small plot into a mosaic of shrubs and trees all designed to provide cover and feeding for hummingbirds and others. Winding through the shrubs and an eclectic mix of odd ornaments, armchairs and small gazebos, small paths take you on a journey around the garden. Oasis Hummingbird and Peruvian Sheartail are both abundant, hovering at flowers and in general pursuit of each other, but so is the garden good for other species – more Croaking Ground-Doves, my first Slender-billed Finches, four Hooded Siskins and, in an orchard just beyond the fence, four Groove-billed Ani. After considerable effort with the hummingbirds, I found what I though was a female Chilean Woodstar ...but I am still somewhat doubtful over the identification, maybe just another Peruvian Sheartail.
A pair of Harris Hawks send panic amongst chickens as they tried to grab a free- ranger, two unknown parakeets flew over. Early afternoon, the heat was now really up! Walked back to the museum for another attempt to relocate the presumed male Chilean Woodstar from earlier in the day. Far less activity in the afternoon, but luck was in – after about 20 minutes, perching in exactly the same spot as had been in the morning, the male Chilean Woodstar did indeed appear, tail perhaps not fully grown, but crossing in its distinctive form when perched. And then, as earlier, off it zipped again, briefly pursued by a second hummingbird, both vanishing beyond the museum grounds.
Walked up to the main road and caught a collective taxi back to Arica. Spent the evening on a beach just north of the town – Peruvian Boobies, Band-tailed Gulls, Grey Gulls, Elegant Terns, Blackish Oystercatchers, just some of the birds present. To the north, vast clouds of gulls and terns roosted on distant beaches ...would check them out in coming days. As dusk approached, I made my way back to the airport and picked up a rental car, next morning would see us venturing into the mountains.
30 December. Putre.
Departing at some stupid hour of the morning, crossed the desertscapes and winding roads of the Andean foothills in darkness ...perhaps a good thing in as much as I couldn't see the precipitous drops that are associated with these atrocious roads, more of this later!
With the ultimate aim of heading to Lauca National Park and its 5000 m peaks, altitude was always going to be an issue on this leg of the trip. Hoping to mitigate the worse, the plan was to spend the first day birding and acclimatizing at Putre, the altitude here a moderately low 3500 m. A superb birding area, the best locality is a deep gorge just beyond the village, a small stream flowing intermittently through and higher meadows rising above.
Arrived just after dawn and began down a short track into the gorge – tremendous stuff, I had a half dozen new species before even getting to the bottom of the gorge! In no particular order, several Straight-billed Earthcreepers, a party of four White-throated Earthcreepers, both Canyon Canestero and Dark-winged Canestero, numerous Ash-breasted Sierra-Finches and several Chiguanaco Thrushes. Clambering up the other side of the gorge, more good birds, not least Yellow-billed Tit-Tyrants and, swooping around like bee-eaters, several Giant Hummingbirds. It was tough however – a clear lack of oxygen was leaving us both struggling as we climbed steeply towards the grassy meadows just beyond, frequent stops required. Not too bad to pause though, Variable Hawks soaring above and lots of passerines moving across the slopes, Band-tailed Seed-eaters fairly common, along with Mourning Sierra-Finches, Ash-breasted Sierra-Finches, Hooded Siskins and Rufous-crowned Sparrows. Up at the meadows, little one elected to find a sunny spot and relax, I set off to find Ornate Tinamou. Big flocks of Bare-faced Ground-Doves feeding in the meadow, plus a whirling flock of mixed Greenish Yellow-Finches and Bright-rumped Yellow-Finches. Also my first White-breasted Chat-Tyrant and, at the meadow fringes, quite a few Black-headed Sierra-Finches and a Plain-breasted Earthcreeper. Andean Hillstars went zooming around, certainly sporting more energy than I had!
Gave it a good try, but could not locate any Ornate Tinamou. Retrieved little one and after an hour or so more of excellent birding descended back into the gorge, Andean Swallows hawking the slopes, a flock of Streaked Tit-Spinetails moving though the shrubbery, Cream-winged Cinclodes at the valley's bottom. Was a struggle to get up the other side, compensation was ice-cream in the small square of this attractive village. Spent the next few hours exploring nearby areas that we could access by car – many of the same birds, plus one bird that initially confused me ...a pigeon that was not in the guidebook! Took some photographs and notes, turns out they were Spot-winged Pigeons, a species that has recently colonised the mountainous areas of northern Chile. Cream-winged Cinclodes and Andean Hillstars proved common in a small area where actual water flowed through the gorge, so too Cinereous Conebills at this point and, just a pair, Black-throated Flowerpeckers.
Planning to explore a slightly higher area, I then took the old road towards Lauca for a couple of kilometres, reaching an altitude of 4000 metres. However, both exhausted and suffering mid headaches, a snooze seemed the order of the day - finding a good spot to pull off the road, an expanse of gravel circled by tussocks of bunch-grass, soon the chairs were rolled back and we were both asleep! Early evening when I woke ...and, simply amazing, what was scrubbing around in the bunch-grass beside the car? Ornate Tinamou, a pair of them!!! Having busted my gut in the morning to find them, to say I was impressed is an understatement. As they slowly wandered off an adjacent slope, down to Putre village we went, pizza in the local restaurant. Had already decided we would camp at the tinamou site, so in failing light, we returned and actually drove a little further too, Found another pair of Ornate Tinamou a couple of kilometres further and added a new mammal to the list, North Andean Deer, herds of seven and nineteen seen.
Back at the original tinamou site, to an absolutely stunning sunset, we put the tent up and vanished inside. At 4000 metres, this was going to be a hard night, neither of us slept well, minor headaches gnawing.
Departing at some stupid hour of the morning, crossed the desertscapes and winding roads of the Andean foothills in darkness ...perhaps a good thing in as much as I couldn't see the precipitous drops that are associated with these atrocious roads, more of this later!
With the ultimate aim of heading to Lauca National Park and its 5000 m peaks, altitude was always going to be an issue on this leg of the trip. Hoping to mitigate the worse, the plan was to spend the first day birding and acclimatizing at Putre, the altitude here a moderately low 3500 m. A superb birding area, the best locality is a deep gorge just beyond the village, a small stream flowing intermittently through and higher meadows rising above.
Arrived just after dawn and began down a short track into the gorge – tremendous stuff, I had a half dozen new species before even getting to the bottom of the gorge! In no particular order, several Straight-billed Earthcreepers, a party of four White-throated Earthcreepers, both Canyon Canestero and Dark-winged Canestero, numerous Ash-breasted Sierra-Finches and several Chiguanaco Thrushes. Clambering up the other side of the gorge, more good birds, not least Yellow-billed Tit-Tyrants and, swooping around like bee-eaters, several Giant Hummingbirds. It was tough however – a clear lack of oxygen was leaving us both struggling as we climbed steeply towards the grassy meadows just beyond, frequent stops required. Not too bad to pause though, Variable Hawks soaring above and lots of passerines moving across the slopes, Band-tailed Seed-eaters fairly common, along with Mourning Sierra-Finches, Ash-breasted Sierra-Finches, Hooded Siskins and Rufous-crowned Sparrows. Up at the meadows, little one elected to find a sunny spot and relax, I set off to find Ornate Tinamou. Big flocks of Bare-faced Ground-Doves feeding in the meadow, plus a whirling flock of mixed Greenish Yellow-Finches and Bright-rumped Yellow-Finches. Also my first White-breasted Chat-Tyrant and, at the meadow fringes, quite a few Black-headed Sierra-Finches and a Plain-breasted Earthcreeper. Andean Hillstars went zooming around, certainly sporting more energy than I had!
Gave it a good try, but could not locate any Ornate Tinamou. Retrieved little one and after an hour or so more of excellent birding descended back into the gorge, Andean Swallows hawking the slopes, a flock of Streaked Tit-Spinetails moving though the shrubbery, Cream-winged Cinclodes at the valley's bottom. Was a struggle to get up the other side, compensation was ice-cream in the small square of this attractive village. Spent the next few hours exploring nearby areas that we could access by car – many of the same birds, plus one bird that initially confused me ...a pigeon that was not in the guidebook! Took some photographs and notes, turns out they were Spot-winged Pigeons, a species that has recently colonised the mountainous areas of northern Chile. Cream-winged Cinclodes and Andean Hillstars proved common in a small area where actual water flowed through the gorge, so too Cinereous Conebills at this point and, just a pair, Black-throated Flowerpeckers.
Planning to explore a slightly higher area, I then took the old road towards Lauca for a couple of kilometres, reaching an altitude of 4000 metres. However, both exhausted and suffering mid headaches, a snooze seemed the order of the day - finding a good spot to pull off the road, an expanse of gravel circled by tussocks of bunch-grass, soon the chairs were rolled back and we were both asleep! Early evening when I woke ...and, simply amazing, what was scrubbing around in the bunch-grass beside the car? Ornate Tinamou, a pair of them!!! Having busted my gut in the morning to find them, to say I was impressed is an understatement. As they slowly wandered off an adjacent slope, down to Putre village we went, pizza in the local restaurant. Had already decided we would camp at the tinamou site, so in failing light, we returned and actually drove a little further too, Found another pair of Ornate Tinamou a couple of kilometres further and added a new mammal to the list, North Andean Deer, herds of seven and nineteen seen.
Back at the original tinamou site, to an absolutely stunning sunset, we put the tent up and vanished inside. At 4000 metres, this was going to be a hard night, neither of us slept well, minor headaches gnawing.
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