5:45 am Sunday morning, Feb 3rd 2008, and the three of us, and our neighbour Sheila set off on our quest to see how many types of birds we would see through the day. We had signed up as the Bubo Bubo team, to take part in the first ever Chennai Bird Race.
Rules were simple - we had to stick together, tick off the birds we spotted in a checklist, and return by 6-30 in the evening. Lateness would invite disqualification, we were told.
So off we went, with my husband being driver for the day, and with my son providing comic relief, and with Sheila and me the supposed birders of the team. (More like the blind leading the blind it was!)
Chembarambakkam lake was our first halt. This huge lake provides the city of Madras with our water, and though I have it seen it from the highway on our several roadtrips to Bangalore, I have not actually stopped and had a dekko. Sheila having been there last month gave us directions. "Turn in at Enterprising Enterprises". So, if any of you want to go the bund, that's the directions for you!
The lake bund road is really enjoyable and a good picnic spot. There were a bunch of morning walkers, some fisherfolk, washerwomen and some curious bystanders wondering what this odd bunch of green-capped (we had caps courtesy HSBC, which announced "Chennai Bird Race" on them) and binocular-toting people were up to!
The sun was just rising and the light was poor, but the
Eurasian Wigeon ducks were identified. I had not seen these ducks before, and was fascinated with the little yellow "namam" of the males.
Then of course was frustrating moment #1 - what was that duck with the white beak? And that one with the red patch? All of us scoured through the duck pages of Salim Ali and Inskipp, but no there was no such bird. Back and forth we went to the book and to our binoculars. But identify it we could not. Out of sheer disgust we gave up, decided to have our sandwiches, and thought gloomily how our identification was starting off on a bad note.
Then was Eureka moment #1! No, its not a duck, but its on the Rails and Sandgrouses page - the white-beaked fellow is a common coot,
and the red-patched one is the
common moorhen! We all felt rather sheepish, but also elated that we could add some more ticks!
Further up the bund, and after many roller birds, kingfishers, beeeaters, drongoes and treepies and mynahs, we reached a road that forked, with the left fork leading away from the bund. OK, lets try the short-cut back through Kunrathur we decided. The well-topped surface flattered to deceive as we were soon in a mud road that had these huge craters and menacing looking jagged stones all over. The only saving grace was there was no traffic and we could wind our way at will.
Thankfully, this did not last long, and we reached the narrow concreted lanes of Kunrathur, where a gent in a tea shop gave us helpful directions. "Sir, ange rightu ponga (pointing with his left hand), konju doora pona, left cutting varum (now pointing right), adidha main road pallavaram. Now do we follow his hand directions or his verbal?! As we wended our way past cattle and goat and the occasional cyclist having a chat in the middle of the road, we came across Tulakan Street, and if we were in any doubt as to what that meant, it was translated as Muslim Street as well!
Two monstrous L&T cement mixers swerved in from a side road, and then we thankfully stuck to their tail as they cleared the way for us all the way to the Grand Southern Trunk Road near Pallavaram. Past Chrompet, and we see see this huge spaghetti loop-like overbridge. I wonder that people use it, it all looked rather confusing!
Left at the Tambaram station, and on to the Tambaram-Velachery road. We see a family of four on the right-hand side of a median, attempting to ride their two-wheeler across it, to the left-side. I was wonderstruck - they actually managed it!
: 10 am, on the second stop of our day long bird-spotting race. We stopped off on the Medavakkam high road - its closer to the quarry and its famous resident.
Who is its famous resident you ask? No, no, not Rajni or Aishwarya or Stalin. If you are still in the dark, it means you have not read my earlier entry, Rendezvous with Bubo Bubo. it may be good to do so before reading this!
"Are we having breakfast here?", asked my son hopefully. You see he had come armed with some juice and chocolate milk and sandwiches, but we were not stopping anywhere long enough for him to have it! So, yes the quarry was chosen as the picnic spot for breakfast.
No “landmines” this time, but instead, as soon as we entered this time, we found these mounds of burnt feathers and hair – it was pretty creepy, like some mass murderer had been at work. And a rather unpleasant smell as well. We hurried along, to get away from there as quickly as we could.
First you have a few hundred metres of sparse vegetation, close to a maidan, where you will always find a cricket match in progress. As you walk a bit further, you reach a eaucalyptus grove, which is a noisy zone – filled with bird chatter. On this visit however, a huge flock of mynahs seems to have chased every other bird away, much to our despair, until we heard the lovely call of the red-vented bulbul, and then saw the proud crest of its red-whiskered cousin. Another unidentifiable bird on a tree top, and we proceeded to the quarry.
As we rounded a corner, familiar voices approached and some more green caps led by Chitra appeared. They had finished and were on their way to the next spot. “Two Bubo bubo chicks, as well’” Chitra announced, and then we zipped along, not stopping to look for any other birds. Just as we reached the quarry, there was huge shadow that flitted across in front of us, and as we looked up it was (Mrs?) Bubo bubo herself, flying in the air, and landing on a nearby tree to watch us. What a magnificent sight, and a handsome bird! A hint of cruelty perhaps, in those yellow eyes?
Where were her chicks? We scanned the face of the quarry, and some slight movement caught my eye, and there they were – 2 brown faces, huddled against each other, precariously balanced on a ledge. Did they know to fly? What if they slipped off that edge? Or even fought with each other, like most siblings do?! They were not tiny, like other chicks, at least fifteen inches, from what I could see, but they still looked small compared to their mother. The two exhibited different personalities, and reminded me of my niece and nephew. While one was ever alert, (the one on the left) suspicious and keen to the least sound, the other one had an "oh whatever" attitude and continued to sleep through all the noise we made! See for yourselves.
The quarry itself was full of water, and the green reeds provided camouflage for one little bird/duck, which kept appearing and disappearing. What was it? Try as hard as we could we could not get a good sighting. A red neck, I think, muttered my husband as he caught a fleeting glance through his binoculars, and in a flash it was gone. Not very good are we? Anyway, at the end of the day we were kindly informed by our fellow birders that that was a Little Grebe, or dabchick. Now of course, to confuse beginners like us, this fellow has to show up with the cormorants and darters, and not with the ducks!
My son by now had opened up his goody bag and was busy chowing away, when another team of bird racers came by, and we showed them (very proudly), the juvenile owls on the ledge.
There were sunbirds a plenty, with their purple plumage catching the sunlight, as they streaked across, from bush to bush. As we returned, we saw a shikra above us, but when we looked through our binoculars, we saw that it was being bothered by a group of flying insects – bees probably? – buzzing around its face!
Back past the feather mounds and into the car, to stopover at Pallikaranai.
Pallikaranai - 1:00 pm, - going back home for lunch. (This in itself would cause all the seasoned birders to raise their eyebrows - you mean you actually took a break?) En route, we keep our eyes open as the Pallikaranai marsh is on our right. Huge mounds of mud block our view, then in a gap, we see literally thousands of birds! Stop the car!
Out we scramble, my husband and son decide to sit in the car, and so I dont have a camera to catch
my bird of the day. Something I was seeing for the first time - a
Purple Heron. I stood fascinated watching it move in its slow, deliberate fashion as it trod across the marsh, and posed so that I could see its "kudmi" and aquiline profile!
As Sheila tried to decipher whether some of the other birds were sandpipers or a pipits, this heron kept me rather distracted! Swifts swooped in hundreds over the water's surface, egrets - small, medium and large stared meditatively into the water and hundreds of black-winged stilts hopped around. Every time they pulled their red legs out of the marsh, they appeared black with mud, and at one point I was wondering whether these black-legged birds was another species!
On the electric pylons in the distance, were these large birds- pelicans and storks.
Despite the garbage being dumped and burned in the marsh, despite the land reclamation and high level of construction activity, despite the heavy traffic on the road, these birds continue to consider Pallikaranai their home. But for how long? Will the government declaration of the marsh as a protected land, make a positive difference from now on? Hats off to all the dedicated naturalists, citizens and environmentalists who worked doggedly, to make this happen.
Though I was elated with my purple heron, we were also very depressed at the state of the marsh. Further depression was to follow in the evening, but that's another story.
The mouth of the Adyar, 4:00pm,: After a snooze and a refreshing cup of tea, we set out again, though not far - to the mouth of the Adyar river, next to the TS(Theosophical Society). I had hoped that during our break in Thiruvanmyur, I would spot the hoopoe or the barbet or the tailorbird, which unfailingly comes to the tree outside our window. Ofcourse it didnt. Murphy's Law. Even the rock pigeons were strangely silent!
We walked through the Urur Olcott Kuppam, where residents were relaxing on the streets on a Sunday afternoon. One group of women eyed us with curiosity, and one called out to me in Tamil, asking for the time. When I answered her in Tamil, she was most disappointed, and muttered to her friends, "ivingu thamizh pesurangu"! Maybe we looked like some exotic species of humans from far north - migratory birds - as far as they were concerned.
Anyway, it was a longish walk to the rivermouth, as we skirted the walls of the TS, past the turtle hatchery enclosure, past groups of cricket playing youth, until we reached the old, broken down remnants of the original bridge. Empty bottles, garbage, plastic bags and other such urban waste greeted our eyes, but couldn't take away from the beauty of the river meeting the sea, the cool breeze, vast expanse and the birds.
But they - the birds I mean - were so far away! How in the world were we beginners to identify them? They all looked feathered, and brown and small! The ones we could identify were the large egrets, and the jungle crow! After a while we gave up. They could have been plovers or godwits, or sandpipers, we could not make out.
We started on our return, deciding to stop by at Madras Club and Adyar Poonga if time permits. Once again as we trooped through the village, the ladies' group ha d alot to say among themselves. Maybe they had gone to see turtles, anyway they know tamil, from here only, what a big camera that man has, were some of the comments that we invited!
The club is a sure shot for rose-ringed parakeets, but that day they outdid themseves, they were all over, screeching and swooping, and looking down at us from the trees. I have seen woodpeckers and a spotted owlet in the trees, but no luck that day. Neither were the stints or godwits in the water. Grumbling about our poor luck, we got into the car, and realised it was too late to go to the Poonga. (As it turned out, I believe it was full of birds!)
6:15 pm - Reached the hotel. Last minute filling in of our names and tallying the birds we saw. A grand total of 43. We were rather pleased with ourselves, until we realised that the average a team saw was around 80! And to put it further in perspective, the winning team saw 120!!
After waiting endlessly (or so it seemed) for our chief guest to appear, the formalities were got through, and we all had a sumptous dinner, exchanged our stories, and vowed to do better next year!
The other MNS members had seen two birds rarely spotted - the Peregrine Falcon, and the Indian courser.
And so ended our bird race. Hopefully, next time around, our combined spotting and identifying skills have improved!
Brain-fever bird
