I've been to the Cape three times, twice when I was a kid
and once when I behaved like a child. Relationships are funny things, somehow
with much kicking a screaming, I agreed to being dragged half way across the
world for a 'weekend'. Off I went on a trans-continental flight to a country I
hated, under the auspices of attending the most ridiculous religious wedding of
people I didn't even know. I reverted to form not long after arriving and
headed off to Kirstenbosch Gardens, never setting foot anywhere near said bunch
of happy clappers until way after the extremist stuff had been puked out. The
point, however, is that my world and southern African bird list had long
suffered the ignominy of this birding black hole.
With some level of wisdom, I had been appointed to guide
paying clients around the Cape in a few months time, so a scouting mission was
in demand. While I only needed to cover a small section of Cape for scouting
purpose, I was intent of covering as much of it as possible, the rest of the
trip would be for me to hammer away at the new lifers and bring some
respectability to my Southern African list.
Land, customs, bags, rental, drive. Cape Town (indeed all of
the Western and Northern Cape as I would discover) may as well have been
another country by comparison to the rest of the South Africa shithole. The
climate is different, the people are different, the scenery is different. I
could wax lyrical for pages on the pros and cons of the Cape versus the rest of
the bell end, but perhaps another time.
My first morning dawned with heavy rain and wind - a test
for my personal 'Happy Month'. I had some shopping to do, i.e. buy a new lens.
Orms Direct had the mid-range Nikon 400mm f/4.0 that I felt I could carry on my
little frame. Despite the crappy weather, I was taking a strong liking this
place already - been a while since I was able to use the word 'competent' in
these parts. Despite the weather, I felt I needed to be outside at least trying
to do something. Rooi Els it would be - a tiny upmarket seaside village that
has taken to protecting a section of the lower slopes of the Capes Hottentots Holland Mountains. The
prime focus of my attention here was the Cape Rockjumper. I've seen many of its
allopatric brother, the Drakensberg Rockjumper in both the Lesotho and KwaZulu
Natal highlands - but completing the company set was my main intention. A patch
of cleared at at an opportune time, but I was easily distracted by overly
confiding Southern Double-collared and Orange-breasted Sunbirds. I had no idea
as to what my new lens was actually capable of doing, so I just shot everything
in much the same way as the locals handle their AK's.
Pissing rain came sweeping in almost catching me unawares,
but rain stopped within seconds of me reaching the car. The sun came out and it
looked as though clear skies would last the rest of the afternoon. I didn't
need it fortunately, a pair of Cape Rockjumper conveniently worked over a
nearby boulder even allowing me to sneak up for some more 'spray and prey' shots. Most chuffed with myself, I
withdrew from the scene to drink beer with Shawn Wedd, my partner in amongst
other crimes, the art of fish tank building.
Day two in Cape Town started rather pleasantly with
breakfast at the Victoria and Alfred waterfront. Another spot of shopping for
some 'stuff' before heading off to find a warbler. It's worth noting at this
juncture, what a spectacular place Cape Town actually is. To walk out of a
major shopping mall, the bright sunny glare clears suddenly revealing the most incredible
mountainous vista stretching from one horizon to the next. I haven't come
across a city of such size and incomparable beauty anywhere else in the world.
[PS: the view across the V&A waterfront towards Table Mountain would have
been even better had the city planners not allowed the building of that
absolutely atrocious piece of kitsch rubbish of an FNB building to forever
blight the mountain.]
Having made a relatively late start, I headed off to
Constantia to find the very dull but very endangered Knysna Warbler. A rather
dingy individual showed, and not too soon either - twitching for boring birds
has never been a personal highlight. I had one last stop to make at the rather
beautiful little beach town of Kommetjie for a Cormorant before driving through
and beyond Cape Town to spend a night with Shawn, Lauren and young Cooper.
Awake at a reasonable hour for the drive towards Ceres and
the beginning of the Karoo! Things were about to get much more exciting than
they had been up to this point. I arrived at Karoopoort well after breakfast,
to find large stands of Phragmites
reeds. This was perfect habitat for Namaqua Warbler, which turned out not to be
a shy bird when defending territory. The common stuff was all new and some rare
birds were common - I'd take them any way they came of course; White-backed
Mousebirds thawing in the early sunshine, Pale-winged Starlings, Tractrac Chat
and plenty of Black-headed Canary. The local farmer came over to talk birds and
borrow my wheel spanner to help another driver in distress - unfortunately we
were all of little use in removing some very tight wheel lugs. [If you have a
blow out, don't drive on the rim...]
From here onwards it was going to be a 250km dirt road drive
towards Calvinia. I stopped at a pile of rocks named Eierkop. Large-billed Lark
had the distinction of being the very first lark of the trip. A dry riverbed contained
both Pririt Batis and an eclipse plumaged Dusky Sunbird. With the day starting
to heat up, I conspired to get lost on the longest uninterrupted road in South
Africa. A missed turnoff cost me 60km's ultimately (and the fuel consumed was equivalent
to about the same sum in Rand, or US$6.00 in real money).
Entering Skitterykloof, to look for Cinnamon-breasted Warbler at 14:00 in the afternoon is perhaps not desirable, but I had little other choice. Scrambling up a rocky scree slope paid off when one of the heavily taped out individuals showed briefly. I made a small detour to find the frustrating Karoo Eremomela while picking up Spike-heeled and Red-capped Lark at the same time. The last two hours of dirt road driving towards Calvinia were interrupted by a number of Ludwig's Bustard flyovers and a pair of rather confiding Karoo Korhaans.
Entering Skitterykloof, to look for Cinnamon-breasted Warbler at 14:00 in the afternoon is perhaps not desirable, but I had little other choice. Scrambling up a rocky scree slope paid off when one of the heavily taped out individuals showed briefly. I made a small detour to find the frustrating Karoo Eremomela while picking up Spike-heeled and Red-capped Lark at the same time. The last two hours of dirt road driving towards Calvinia were interrupted by a number of Ludwig's Bustard flyovers and a pair of rather confiding Karoo Korhaans.
I spend most of my life in universal summer, and failed to
appreciate that winter was not done in the Cape. Calvinia was bloody cold, so
cold that my windscreen was frozen over and I had to wear almost every piece of
clothing I had available to me. Shivering and shaking over a cup of coffee, I
did my best credit card scrape of the windscreen before heading further north
towards the one horse town of Bradvlei. Twenty kilometres shy of the town I
pulled over for my first major Lark twitch. I started my search amongst a
seemingly barren landscape pitted only by a solitary windmill. Rufous-eared
Warbler was refreshingly common and I needed only a few more minutes to nail
down the object of my desires, a pair of Red Lark. It must be said that this
very late winter / early spring period is fantastic for Larks, most of whom
start displaying an hour or so after sunrise. Karoo Scrub Robin quickly became
lifer number two for the morning.
Struggle to find a place to have breakfast in the town, but
am impressed to find that there is a restaurant called the 'Red Lark' - albeit
closed. Breakfast complete, I'm back into the increasingly warm scrubby desert.
I am now due to play a waiting game, it works like this. Find one of only a
handful of water troughs, place your bets and wait for a lark to pitch up. To
say that I am impatient would be an understatement, for ten minutes later I am
waling the periphery trying to make things happen. Through nothing much more
than pot luck, a Sclater's Lark flushes from nearby, sits on a bush, poses and
disappears while I'm still fiddling with autofocus...
With more time available than expected, I try the same
tactic at other waterholes. Karoo Long-billed Lark gets twitched, while a flock
Namaqua Sandgrouse are in no mood to pose for me. A distant male Black-eared
Sparrow-Lark is somewhat disappointing added to the list - I rather fancied
getting some images of this fellow. With
all targets in the bag, it is back to Calvinia for an afternoon of working on
my forthcoming Colombia checklists and rugby.
I have gotten fully into twitching mode and immediately
start chopping time of my trip with ambitious driving distances. Leaving
Calvinia early, I make quick time to the nearby village of Nieuwoudtville.
After many kilometres of seemingly barren Karoo, it is a staggering surprise to
suddenly find oneself amongst miles of green grass and numerous flowers. I had
barely taken a foot out the car when the distinctive 'wing clapping' of a Cape
Clapper Lark could be heard nearby. Hell it was cold though, upon closer
inspection the road verges were all solidly frozen. With the sun just clearing
the horizon, the larks had positioned themselves in a rather un-photographical
position. I had stopped climbing over fences as of yesterday, I don't doubt
that the Dutchmen up here will shoot before asking questions - and may well be
further motivated to do so upon hearing my English accent in any case. One
target left, which I could hear everywhere but was having rather less luck
finding. Against a small, backlit ridge - I could just about discern the
outline of what had to have been a Southern Black Korhaan. A quick reposition
confirmed to some delight that I was indeed looking at one of the more sexy
bustard beasts.
With great distances still to cover and an abject lack of
traffic cops, I could 'get the hammer down'. The morning was spent driving over
and down the Bokkeveld escarpment to reach the edge of the Nama Karoo at Vanrhynsdorp
before turning north to Springbok. I barely paused for breath in Springbok,
knocking off the remaining 140kms to the coastal town of Port Nolloth in time
for lunch. Five kilometres north of the town, Barlow's Lark was ticked and
photographed. Five kilometres south of town and it was much the same for Cape
Long-billed and Karoo Lark. Back in the car for the 140km's back to Springbok
for the night. In retrospect, I should have stayed the night in Port Nolloth
and worked on my photography for a little longer.
Twitching this had become and twitching it would stay. Depart
Springbok bright and early heading for the town of Pofadder. I had no idea at
this point that I would still be driving some 14hours later, part of a 1000km
day... Anyhow, at the moment dawn was breaking and there were more Larks to
find. From Pofadder I hit the dirt road towards the South African / Namibian
border town of Onseepkans on the Orange River. I was now becoming increasingly
target driven. Stark's Lark - tick, photo, next. Stop, Namaqua Sandgrouse -
photo, next. I took a half hour breather and spent some time trying to get
photos instead of simply chasing ticks. Acacia Pied Barbet and Scaly-feathered
Weaver proved decent adversaries. Then it was off to complete the 50km long
dirt road. Arriving on the border town I was quick to scramble amongst the few
patches of palm tree for Rosy-faced Lovebird. I spent 30minutes dashing around
like a ricochet before focussing properly and finding what I was after. Though
well seen, these parrots had little time for sitting still and waiting while I
tried to get photographs. Swallow-tailed Bee-eaters were much keener to play
ball, and my as yet uninhibited approach to taking plenty of shots resulted in
a few decent action shots. Orange River White-eye responded well to tape,
though it had seemed completely non-existent before that.
Birds in the bag for the day, it was now a case of seeing
just how far I could get. Sociable Weaver increased exponentially just outside
of Pofadder, but I could not find an African Pygmy Falcon to add to my South
Africa list just yet. With the journey going well, I wondered if I might reach
Kimberley by evening. I was already 2-3 days ahead of schedule, reaching
Kimberley tonight would significantly shorten my plans. Then I made a spurious
decision to drive up to Augrabies National Park. Ostensibly this was to twitch
Short-toed Rock Thrush, though it took me a few hours to establish that not
only had I dipped, but that I had no need to look for it in any case - having
ticked it many years ago already. Twat - those two and a half hours had almost
certainly consigned me to spending the night in Upington instead. As it
happens, I went on a mission - through Upington and onwards, foot as flat as I
dared - even passing the police who showed little inclination to follow me. If
I was risking anything, it was driving at night with Kudu feeding on the road
verges. Despite my speed and the lighting, I did have the opportunity to watch
a skittish Kudu get back on 'his' side of the fence. A languid, effortless jump
from a standing start over the 21 strand, three metre high fence. At least if I
was on a collision coarse with one, it would probably only scratch the roof
with its hooves.
Up and going early in the morning, I headed to the 'Big
Hole' in down town Kimberley to find one last lifer - Bradfield's Swift. Having
first mis-identified the large pile of rubble to the left of the parking lots
as being 'the hole', I managed without embarrassment to find the real hole. A
part of me expected it to be simply a large hole in the ground, not one
ensconced, stadium style by walkways and shops. I tried entering at 07:00 to be
confronted by a bevvy of what seemed to me in any case to be local 'guides'. I
tried the avoidance approach, gave them a wide berth and sped up my gait. Turns
out they were security guards and none too happy with me for trying to give
them the slip. The 'hole' only opened at 08:00... Stuff it, I'd simply wait
outside for the swifts to appear and then be off. A flutter of adrenalin was
proven to be a false start - bloody Little Swifts. Ten minutes later the much
larger, dull brown Bradfield's Swift made an appearance clearing the way for me
to get a move on. The rest of the trip was a just an asphalt orientated haze,
broken only by the bevvy of arsehole drivers that indicated I was nearing
Gauteng. It takes a really 'special' kind of cock to drive an M3 or an RS4 with
GP tags.
Trying to find a shortcut through the toll roads (something
else that doesn't exist in the Cape), I found myself driving the increasingly
poor dirt roads of Marikana village - site of a South African
Police Service massacre just two years previously. Perhaps not the greatest
place in the world to be gallivanting about. I exited post haste just in case I
should happen to round a bend and come head to head with one Julius Malema...
And that was that. Just over 5000km of driving and R4800 spent on petrol (US$480) to see 30 lifers, 10 of which were Larks. It was also the dawning of my Love for Larks, a family I am now seriously going to chase... 33 Larks this year alone including the Critically Endangered Beesley's Lark on northern Tanzania. Better yet, I still have options on another two species - both lifers, both endemic to South Africa and both in a lot of trouble. 51 from 97 doesn't sound like much - especially since the easy species have already been taken care of.
And that was that. Just over 5000km of driving and R4800 spent on petrol (US$480) to see 30 lifers, 10 of which were Larks. It was also the dawning of my Love for Larks, a family I am now seriously going to chase... 33 Larks this year alone including the Critically Endangered Beesley's Lark on northern Tanzania. Better yet, I still have options on another two species - both lifers, both endemic to South Africa and both in a lot of trouble. 51 from 97 doesn't sound like much - especially since the easy species have already been taken care of.
A foreigners guide to understanding some place names
mentioned above:
Rooi Els = Red Alder (species of tree)
Kommetjie = small basin (referring to the small bay area)
Karoopoort = Karoo gateway, literally a farm at the start of
the Karoo.
Eierkop = egg head (small rocky outcrop in an otherwise
characterless environment. Probably refers to Ostrich egg fragments found on
top of the rocks, no doubt placed there by the San.
Skitterykloof = restless / skittish gap
Calvinia = named after the French religious 'reformer' Jean
Calvin. You needn't look very far to see what these religious extremists and
brain dead nut cases did to South Africa under the guise of 'god'.
Brandvlei = literally marsh fire, probably best interpreted
as Burnt Marsh
Nieuwoudtville = new forest town, perhaps in relation to the
unexpected forests and green vegetation that is to be found here in relation to
the dry and inhospitable surroundings.
Vanrhynsdorp = I'm guessing slightly, may be named after Rembrandt van Ryn
Pofadder = Puff
Adder, a particularly attractive, but dangerously venomous species of snake.
Onseepkans = an opportunity to wash off soap.
Upington - named after Sir Thomas Upington, who was Attorney
General and then Prime Minister of the Cape Province.
Kimberley = I am going to post a large piece of 'cut and
paste' here from Wikipedia. I urge you to read the entire entry on Kimberley -
for it is quite fascinating. After the discovery of diamonds, the general area
had no name barring the Dutch farm name of Vooruitzigt. The local
prospectors termed the town 'New Rush', but the British were having none of it.
Before the British would proclaim the area for the crown, there was a problem.
[continued from Wiki]
The delay was in London where Secretary of State for the Colonies, Lord
Kimberley, insisted that before electoral divisions could be defined, the
places had to receive "decent and intelligible names. His Lordship
declined to be in any way connected with such a vulgarism as New Rush and as
for the Dutch name, Vooruitzigt …
he could neither spell nor pronounce it." The matter was passed to Southey
who gave it to his Colonial Secretary J.B. Currey. Roberts writes that
"when it came to renaming New Rush, [Currey] proved himself a worthy
diplomat. He made quite sure that Lord Kimberley would be able both to spell
and pronounce the name of the main electoral division by, as he says, calling
it 'after His Lordship'.
And quite rightly so.
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