May 5, 2014 by Badri

Trip report: BRT TR & Bandipur NP, May 2014

Trip Report: BRT Tiger Reserve

Bandipur National Park

Dates: 1-3 May 2014

Camp: JLR’s K. Gudi Wilderness Camp & Bandipur Safari Lodge

All the photographs used in this post were shot by S. Balajee.

I was supposed to do KMTR this weekend with GK. Unfortunately he fell ill and we abandoned the plan at the last moment. I was however able to tag along with my sister’s family on this trip. We did one night and two safaris each at BR Hills and Bandipur. The two-destination idea turned out to be quite productive, adding variety without being inconvenient as Bandipur is a short 70 kms from K Gudi.

BRT TR/K. Gudi

Reaching the camp by 11:30 AM gave us opportunity for some pre-lunch birding, in the camp and around the little lake by it. We saw Cinereous tit, Magpie robin, Common myna, unidentified warbler, Asian brown flycatcher, Orange minivet, White-browed wagtail, Red-rumped swallow, Red-whiskered bulbul, Gold-fronted leaf bird, White-cheeked barbet, Jungle babbler, Brahminy kite, Oriental white-eye, Black hooded oriole, unidentified flameback and Spotted dove. And the Black eagle.

On my wish-list for this visit were four stars – Black eagle, Red spurfowl (don’t ask why), Rufous babbler (with a photo-op) and Southern tree shrew – and possibly an elephant mock charge as icing on the cup-cake. The first of these – the Black eagle – was knocked off the list within an hour of reaching camp. And this is not the first time I’ve seen this raptor over the K. Gudi camp.

Gold-fronted leaf bird:

Orange minivet, male:

Cinereous tit:

Incidentally, we stayed in the Biligiri and Nilgiri log huts, farthest down the line and abutting the jungle. I had referred to the Biligiri log hut in my previous K. Gudi trip report post.

The first safari was naturally the evening one. The weather was surprisingly cool and cloudy, a welcome change from the dry, sweltering furnace that was Bangalore. On my last visit, we had an extremely productive time with birds thanks to us being driven on safari by Rajesh. We asked for him this time too and Prasad, the new manager was kind enough to oblige. Rajesh has razor-sharp eyesight, spotting skills like you wouldn’t believe, and is a mustard-keen birder. A worthy successor to Thapa, the legendary driver/spotter of K. Gudi, now retired. With Rajesh, his bins and his copy of Grimmett & Inskipp along, there was not a dull moment on safari. And the forest was fairly throbbing with birdlife despite the time of year.

Barking deer, fawn:

The evening was therefore pleasant enough, with some involved birding. Early into the safari we found a pair of Racket-tailed drongos mobbing a Jungle owlet. These drongos were ubiquitous.

Racket-tailed drongo:

Fairly common also was Magpie robin, Indian blackbird, Jungle myna, Jungle babbler, Bronzed drongo, Indian treepie, Grey junglefowl, Common hawk cuckoo, White-bellied drongo and bulbul (both Red-vented and Red-whiskered).

Rajesh had marked a burrow in the earth tenanted by a Blue-bearded bee-eater and we spent some time watching the bird flit in and out. Both Rajesh and BIL B were keen on getting a picture of the event, but this posed a challenge as getting close enough for a clear line of sight was deterring the bird – although the nest was just off the road and barely a foot off the ground.

Blue-bearded bee-eater:

Other notables were Indian pitta (two separate sightings), Malabar whistling thrush, Green imperial pigeon, Orange-headed thrush, Oriental honey buzzard, Crested serpent eagle, Brown fish owl and Rufous babbler (second item off the wishlist). The much-awaited mock charge didn’t materialize, but we did see a trio of elephants in high grass.

Brown fish owl:

Waking up in camp the next morning to the calls of Jungle owlet, Indian Nightjar, Common hawk cuckoo, Black-hooded oriole, Magpie robin, Hoopoe, and Tufted langur, we set off on what turned out to be a sparkling safari.

Black-hooded oriole:

Common hawk-cuckoo:

We found a quartet of Nilgiri wood pigeons fluttering about a salt lick and spent some time there. We then ran into a Mountain imperial pigeon and the day was starting to look better and better. Red spurfowl went off the wishlist next, although the sighting was a tad too fleeting for comfort. That left just one worthy on the list – the Southern tree shrew.

And as luck would have it, we found a pair of these rodents gamboling on the grass and on a fallen tree, in the open, not very far away, and in perfect light. Of such moments is paradise made. BIL B got a bunch of very decent pictures, and I got a good clear look at Anathana ellioti. Suum cuique!

Southern tree shrew:

Bandipur

The evening safari started off with a spot of rain but this quickly subsided, leaving the jungle cool and glistening. This was a typical Bandipur safari, with plenty of flamebacks and intrepid Stripe-necked mongooses. If BRT is the place for Barking deer that aren’t human-shy, Bandipur is the place for Stripe-necked and Ruddy mongooses.

Stripe-necked mongoose:

Passing by the Anekatte waterhole, Kiran the driver thought he spotted a ‘brown shape’ disappearing into some shrubs, and we stopped there waiting. In a while, someone at the back of the jeep realized that there was an elephant standing just off the road and about seventy meters behind us. It turned out to be a magnificent makhna, and we rolled the jeep back a short way to watch this distraction. The elephant was not too happy with the situation, and showed signs of restless agitation. But he wasn’t sure what do to about it either. Turn tail and flee, or get all belligerent and nasty. And so he kicked his feet, threw dust over himself, stamped around, swayed and did a bunch of things to express his annoyance.

After a while, we decided to leave him to his devices and started up again, stopping briefly by the pool to confirm that the brown shape hadn’t materialized while we weren’t looking. It had not, and off we went. Later on in the safari, we saw another herd of four elephants at some distance.

Sambar hind:

The next morning was better. We entered the forest not by the usual gate right across the road from the reception center, but from the turn-off further down the road, towards the congregation of resorts. A couple of oncoming vehicles reported the presence of dhole further up the road. Passing by a massive herd of chital some hundred strong, we heard alarm calls and stopped. A lone, unseen sambar stag to our right responded with his own belling honk. Scan as we might with binoculars, nothing was visible and the calls presently subsided. This herd was within the perimeter of the camp, with buildings not very far away. Concluding that a snake was the probable cause of all the commotion, we moved on to look for Cuon Alpinus.

The pack came into view in a short while, with the remnants of a chital kill by the road. The dogs had demolished the carcass and were lying around worrying the larger bones when we appeared on the scene. One by one they took themselves off, pausing to stare at us before pattering into the thickets without showing undue haste. We counted six dogs in the pack. The morning light was fine and mellow, and BIL B got some impressive pictures.

Indian wild dog or dhole:

Much later in the safari, we passed by an anti-poaching camp (APC) and a while later, ran into a JLR safari van driver who had news of a tigress kill near this APC. K-turning back, we found what was left of the kill (a sambar hind) hidden just by the road. A lone jungle crow that was making the most of the opportunity and a waiting safari van pointed us to the spot. We waited for a short while before concluding that the tigress had possibly decamped after consuming the kill.

Streak-throated woodpecker:

I made a start with jungle trees during this safari. Six trees were most commonly seen on this route and I learned to ID the ones I earlier couldn’t. Flame of the forest (Butea monosperma), the Crocodile bark tree or kari mathi (Terminalia tomentosa), Axlewood tree (Anogeissus latifolia) with its pale, guava-like bark and clustered, drooping leaves, Indian gooseberry (Phyllanthus emblica) with its fern-like foliage, and teak (Tectona grandis). The sixth I haven’t been able to relate to; Kiran used the local term Jaaldar for it. This is a small-to-medium sized tree, vaguely reminiscent of Tabebuia aurea/argentea. I have photographs and should be able to take someone’s help to ID it in a day or two.

Not having paid more attention to trees in BRT TR too was a pity, and I should spend some effort on trees in upcoming trips.

Grey junglefowl, cock:

Black-naped hare:

The List:

BRT TR

Avifauna:

Asian brown flycatcher
Asian fairy bluebird
Black-hooded oriole
Black kite
Blue-bearded bee-eater
Brahminy kite
Bronzed drongo
Brown fish owl
Cinereous tit
Common hawk cuckoo
Common myna
Coucal
Crested serpent eagle
Flameback (?)
Flowerpecker (?)
Gold-fronted leaf bird
Green imperial pigeon
Grey junglefowl
Hill myna
Hoopoe
Indian blackbird
Indian cuckoo (calls)
Indian nightjar (calls)
Indian pitta
Jungle babbler
Jungle myna
Jungle owlet
Large cuckoo shrike
Magpie robin
Malabar whistling thrush
Mountain imperial pigeon
Nilgiri wood pigeon
Orange-headed thrush
Orange minivet
Oriental honey buzzard
Oriental white-eye
Pigmy woodpecker
Plum-headed parakeet
Racket-tailed drongo
Red-rumped swallow
Red spurfowl
Red-vented bulbul
Red-whiskered bulbul
Rufous babbler
Spotted dove
Warbler (?)
White-bellied drongo
White-browed wagtail
White-cheeked barbet
White-throated kingfisher

Mammals:

Barking deer
Elephant
Gaur
Malabar giant squirrel
Southern tree shrew
Spotted deer
Tufted langur
Wild boar

Others:

Terrapin

Bandipur

Avifauna:

Asian paradise flycatcher
Bay-backed shrike
Brahminy starling
Bushlark (?)
Common hawk cuckoo
Coucal
Flameback
Grey junglefowl
Hoopoe
Indian cuckoo (calls)
Jungle babbler
Jungle myna
Magpie robin
Peafowl
Pied bushchat
Plum-headed parakeet
Red-wattled lapwing
Shikra
Spotted dove
Streak-throated woodpecker
White-bellied drongo
White-breasted waterhen
White-browed fantail
White-throated kingfisher

Mammals:

1. Barking deer

2. Dhole

3. Elephant

4. Gaur

5. Sambar

6. Stripe-necked mongoose

7. Tufted langur

8. Black-naped hare

April 14, 2014 by Badri

Meghamalai Reprised, Apr 2014

Trip Report: Meghamalai Willife Sanctuary

Dates: 11-13 Apr 2014

Camp: Vellimalai FRH

Companions: GK, GiK, SS

Revisits to any place tend to be let-downs, primarily because a large part of the pleasure the first time around is in all likelihood, derived from the sheer unexpectedness of it. This trip was an exception. GK and I visited Meghamalai in January this year (blog post here), were unable to get permission to occupy the picturesque Vellimalai FRH, and swore we’d come back to stay there someday. We made good on our promise this time.

This FRH nestles in a spot of great beauty deep inside the forest, is dwarfed by towering riverine forests, and has a stream running by it. Armed with the requisite permission, we were eagerly looking forward to the experience of camping at this beautiful spot. And the experience did not disappoint, despite the heightened expectations.

In terms of the itinerary, we did pretty much the same things we did the last time around – driving up through the Pandian estate to the Vellimalai Murugan temple, and having Thangaraj jeep us up to the Anaikullipallam estate (these are separate outings). In addition to these, we spent the mornings and evenings absorbed in some very pleasant birding in the vicinity of the FRH. This last was probably the most fulfilling part of the trip, given the pleasant surroundings and richness of birdlife around.

We expected sunrise and sunset hours to be especially spectacular around the FRH, and they were. We woke up to the calls of Malabar whistling thrushes, Asian fairy bluebirds (plenty of them around), Hill mynas, Malabar grey hornbills and Grey jungle fowl. On a single tree in the camp, we counted four species of bulbul all at once – Red whiskered, Flame throated, White-browed and Yellow-browed. There were quite a few Black bulbuls around, but they regrettably did not join in the record attempt or else we’d have seen five species of bulbul all on one tree. And this was in addition to a Malabar giant squirrel, a Malabar grey hornbill and a couple of Green barbets that were foraging on the same tree. Elsewhere around the camp we saw Hill myna, Racket-tailed drongo (plenty of both), Malabar whistling thrush, Asian fairy bluebird (dozens of them), Golden oriole, Puff throated babbler, Brown-cheeked fulvetta, Orange minivet, Cinereous tit, Nilgiri flycatcher, Crimson-backed sunbird (plenty of these too), Pond heron, Common kingfisher (both by the stream), Lesser flameback and Nilgiri langur (there were plenty of Bonnet macaque in the camp).

On Saturday evening around sunset, GiK and I took a walk down the road towards a little culvert a short way from the FRH. Incidentally Muniswamy, the forest watcher who accompanied us on our drives had told us of having sighted a tiger on a kill (a cow) beside this culvert a while back. The road runs parallel to the stream that abuts the FRH, and we had gone some distance when we heard splashing and snorting noises from the water below. We were looking forward to (and dreading, at the same time) meeting elephants and naturally assumed we’d hit paydirt. GiK moved around to find a gap in the intervening shrubbery and three sambar went crashing through the water in alarm, splashing up a tremendous din in the silence of the forest.

We resumed our walk and went a little further ahead when sambar alarm calls erupted in the jungle across the stream to our right, and some distance ahead of us. The calls persisted and a Nilgiri langur presently took alarm too. This animal was just off the road to our left, and both calls some hundred meters ahead of us. (We could see neither sambar nor langur). Stealing ahead noiselessly on rubber-soled feet, we reached the culvert. I was desperately hoping for a tiger sighting on foot – an item on my bucket-list that has so far refused to fructify. We planted ourselves on the culvert and waited in silence, but were disappointed when the calls eventually died out. Incidentally, sambar alarm calls also erupted around the FRH a couple of times after sunset, when we were sitting on chairs outside our room.

The eight-kilometer drive through Pandian estate to the Vellimalai Murugan temple was pleasant as ever and very productive as far as birding was concerned. We entered the estate in the evening after the labour-force had departed and had the route to ourselves. Our luck was on a roll this time around. We had searched for but failed to find Lion-tailed macaque the last time around and here they were, a whole troop just off the road. I had mentioned a flashing tree shrew sighting which only GK got a clear look at in January and now I got a clear sighting of Anathana ellioti – the Southern tree shrew. We also saw the White-bellied treepie in the upper reaches. We saw this bird multiple times on this trip – once here and thrice on the Anaikullipallam track. SS was unwell and had elected to stay back, and he got the privilege of sighting Draco dussumieri – the Southern flying lizard – at the FRH.

Anaikullipallam if you recall is eight kilometers or so from the Vellimalai FRH. The road to get there passes through some very rough, lantana-choked, boulder-strewn terrain. The track is far too rough for the Scorp, and hence the need to have Thangaraj jeep us up. Having learnt our lesson from the last trip, we had requested Thangaraj to organize a cooked meal for us at Anaikullipallam.

En route are some three or four estates in various states of disrepair, all of them having been abandoned presumably due to labour shortage. Living quarters built for the hands are empty and dilapidated, having been visited by the occasional marauding elephant. There was an injured or ill gaur – bull or cow we couldn’t tell – just off the road that the men with us said had been sighted around the same spot for a couple of days now. The creature sat in the lantana by the roadside and made some effort to rise and move away at the sight of us.

We got off the jeep a kilometer or so before the Anaikullipallam estate house, and walked the rest of the way looking for birds. The upper reaches are cool and pleasant, with evergreen vegetation interspersed with plantation – coffee and cardamom. We saw what Muniswamy identified as sloth bear scat during the jeep drive, and Dhole scat in the last stretch (we had seen this the last time too). After a modest scratch meal at the estate house, we walked back the same distance and en route ran into a truly exhilarating encounter. GK who has eyes sharp as they come suddenly called out that there was a cobra just off the track. Since some people seem to equate all snakes with cobras, I rather uncharitably assumed he’d spotted a rat snake. Peeping over, I was astonished to find that we were in fact looking at Ophiophagus hannah himself – the King cobra – at a distance of less than six feet. Strikingly dual-toned in yellow and black, the snake had his hood raised two and a half feet off the ground and stood completely motionless. GiK and I were alternating between staring in fascination and fumbling with the wretched camera, which had chosen this of all moments to misbehave. The snake stood there for a full minute, and then lowering its hood, went slithering down the slope at great speed. Regrettably, we found the inadvertent setting change on the camera that had ruined our chance of a picture just after the snake departed.

Two quick points before I end this narration. One, I had been fretting over being unable to identify a call that is common in all our forests at night – it is a ping with a plop-like echo. On this trip, we traced the source to a tree and a torch beam revealed the culprit to be an Indian nightjar. I rechecked Xeno-canto and can only find the chuck-chuck-chuckrrrr calls that are typical of the nightjar.

Second, I had wrongly mentioned the named of the entry checkpost as Manjur in my last post. Turns out it is Manjoothu.

Here are some pictures GiK took – I seem to have completely abandoned my camera for binoculars.

Macaca silenus – the Lion-tailed macaque:

The Vellimalai Murugan temple:

The Vellimalai Murugan temple commands a spectacular view of the surrounding forests:

Malabar giant squirrel:

Indian nightjar, there is some camera shake as the picture was shot under trying conditions, by headlight:

Flameback around the FRH:

Malabar grey hornbill:

Here is a full list of sightings:

Avifauna

Ashy woodswallow
Asian fairy bluebird
Black bulbul
Black-hooded oriole
Brown-cheeked fulvetta
Cinereous tit
Common babbler
Common hawk cuckoo
Common kingfisher
Coucal (call)
Crested serpent eagle
Crimson-backed sunbird
Flame-throated bulbul
Green barbet
Golden oriole
Grey junglefowl
Hill myna
Hoopoe (call)
Indian nightjar
Indian robin
Magpie robin
Malabar grey hornbill
Malabar whistling thrush
Nilgiri flycatcher
Orange minivet
Pond heron
Puff-throated babbler
Purple-rumped sunbird
Racket-tailed drongo
Red-vented bulbul
Red-whiskered bulbul
Spotted dove
Yellow-browed bulbul
Warbler
White-browed bulbul
White-bellied treepie
White-headed babbler
White-throated kingfisher

Mammals
Barking deer (Ganesh only)
Black-naped hare
Bonnet macaque
Gaur
Lion-tailed macaque
Malabar giant squirrel
Nilgiri langur
Palm squirrel
Sambar
Southern tree shrew

Others
King cobra
Southern flying lizard (SS only)

April 7, 2014 by Badri

Book Review: The Secret Life of Tigers, by Valmik Thapar

Book review: The Secret Life of Tigers, by Valmik Thapar

Second edition

Oxford University Press, published 2008

This slim volume was first published in 1989, by Elm Tree Books in Great Britain, and by OUP in India in 1999. It is tiny as books go, but was a seminal work in terms of the insights it revealed.

Valmik Thapar is probably the most well-known tiger conservationist there is. He is not a trained scientist or field biologist, but in this book Thapar traced the development of the litters of three tigresses in Ranthambore – Laxmi, Noon and Nalghati – along with his mentor, the legendary Fateh Singh Rathore.

In the March of ’86, the tigress Laxmi was sighted with a pair of month-old cubs, fathered by a tiger called the Bakaula male. Shortly after, Rathore observed the Nalghati tigress with a pair of cubs a month older than Laxmi’s, these fathered by a male called Kublai. A month or so later in May, another tigress Noon was seen with a newly born litter, this too fathered by Kublai. Sensing the unique opportunity offered by having on hand three tigresses with cubs, Thapar and Rathore closely followed the triumphs and travails of the three litters over the next couple of years, until the cubs reached adulthood. This book is the fruit of those efforts.

A good part of the book deals with the question of the tiger’s family ties. It was traditionally believed that male tigers indulge in routine infanticide, killing off any cubs they encountered. In the April of ‘86, Thapar was stunned to find Kublai with the Nalghati tigress’ cubs, together soaking the summer heat away in a pool. This behavior was presently confirmed with the other litters. Thapar then postulated that the resident male interacts and develops bonds with the litters of the tigresses in his range. He also speculated that infanticide may occur when a male takes over the territory of another and proceeds to eliminate any litters sired by his predecessor to bring the tigress into oestrus. This is behavior observed in monkeys and lions, and Thapar surmised that it was probably applicable to tigers too.

A male tiger’s beat may encompass the beat of more than one female and being essentially solitary, the male roves over his range ceaselessly. On occasion, this brings him in contact with the resident females and their litters, and he consorts with the family until it is time to move on again. Further, Thapar found that the male partook of kills made by the tigress, along with the cubs, and allowed the latter to partake of kills made by him whilst in contact. This brought up the remarkable sight of familial feeding in tigers, and Thapar observed upto eight tigers feeding off a single kill. Also, he found (as in the case of Kublai) that the male may consort with more than one tigress and associate with their respective litters.

The bonds between the tigress and her litter is strong, and the task of keeping the cubs alive into adulthood while passing on essential life skills was a huge order, as Thapar discovered. He recollected watching the tigress Padmini in ’77, maiming a tethered bait buffalo and leaving the cubs to attempt bringing it down. He also discovered her regulating the feeding to ensure all the cubs got to eat. As the three tigress’ cubs got older, they began to actively help with the hunt, taking up positions to drive prey towards the tigress. And thus you have the phenomenon of co-ordinated group hunting for at least a brief period in the tiger’s life. In Thapar’s words, “if undisturbed and well managed, tigers can, as families, form temporary groupings in order to hunt and share food”.

At about sixteen months of age the process of detachment started, though Thapar surmised that the family retained kinship ties for life, recognizing individuals when one of them occasionally happened to run into another.

Thapar also made observations around the variation of hunting styles across individuals. In the mid-eighties, a tiger named Genghis Khan pioneered and perfected the hitherto untried technique of charging at sambar across open water in the Gilai Sagar lake,adjacent to the Jogi Mahal guest house. The tigress Noon evidently picked this technique up from him, and preferred bursts of speed over open land while in contrast, Laxmi preferred stalking from thick cover and with shorter bursts.

Thapar dramatically describes an incident that occurred in the February of 1987, terming it his “most exciting time ever with tigers”. The narration fills three pages of tiny italicized text. Noon attacked a massive sambar stag that valiantly resisted until the tigress gave up, exhausted. The stag died of its wounds a few weeks later. Thapar describes this and other dramatic first-person encounters in italicized interludes with usage of the present tense. And the ploy works rather well, making taut what might otherwise have been a bland account.

There is quite a bit of discussion around the threats tigers and their habitats face, from poaching or other human incursions, and Thapar outlines some prescriptive points to address the menace.

I should add that twenty colour photographs buttress some of the points made about tiger behavior.

In summation, while this may not be a masterpiece you’ll remember forever, it is certainly a quick, insightful, absorbing (and inexpensive) read for anyone who is a tiger lover. I’ll probably do a review of Karanth’s tiger book next and some comparison will be inevitable.

April 5, 2014 by Badri

Trip Report: Bandipur National Park, March 2014

Trip Report: Bandipur National Park

Dates: 29-31 Mar 2014

Camp: JLR’s Bandipur Safari Lodge

This trip was organized by a bunch of us from the Nov ’13 NTP batch. It was open to the batch, but just four of us ultimately signed up. With the temperature rising, we were hopeful of productive mammal sightings; the forest fire which broke out a little before the middle of March threatened to put paid to our plans, but the safaris resumed after 4-5 days of disruption. We drove through some of these charred forests on one of the safaris, and the affected swathes can also be seen by the Ooty highway a little beyond the Bandipur reception area. A thousand acres were impacted by the fire, although this is perhaps not necessarily the tragedy it is made out to be. If you want to know why I say so, this is a very insightful piece to read.

We did four safaris and I wouldn’t exactly say that the outings were brimming over with sightings, in terms of birds or mammals. Certainly not a patch on my last trip to Bandipur just before the south-west monsoon, when the safaris were vibrant with encounters every few minutes. That was in fact one of the best trips I have ever done (three tiger sightings, ten minutes spent backing up right besides a magnificent and very tolerant tusker, a Black naped hare, Ruddy and Stripe-necked mongooses that permitted prolonged and close observation, and plenty of birdlife).

This time in stark contrast, most of the time was spent in driving through a silent forest shorn of leaves (and completely infested with lantana), the jeep throwing up a pall of fine dust which settled on and fouled everything. Despite the subdued productivity, it was nevertheless time well-spent for us, with some intense birding and an interesting tigress sighting.

There was a tree spreading over our rooms, and weighed down with hundreds of golden-orange figs. Naturally, this was a magnet for frugivores of all hues and we spent a considerable amount of time between safaris under this tree and around the camp. Red-vented bulbuls, Plum-headed parakeets, Asian koels, Coppersmith barbets and palm squirrels were probably the most common gourmands – we found these on the tree with near-certainty at any point. Red-vented bulbuls were in force and aggressively so, and given to relentlessly harassing their more timorous red-whiskered cousins. Indian grey hornbills appeared fairly frequently.

Elsewhere in the camp, there were plenty of Purple-rumped sunbirds, Cinereous tits, Blyth’s reed warblers, Asian brown flycatchers, Common ioras, Oriental white-eyes and White-bellied drongos. A coucal was a constant (and constantly calling) fixture right outside our door, where we also spend an enthralling few minutes watching a flock (murder is the correct albeit awkward term) of crows mob a Shikra which had settled down to partake of something dead and delicious clutched in its claws. Unfazed, the Shikra decamped only after consuming its meal entirely, leaving nothing for the crows.

On the safaris, the first and last threw up elephant sightings, something that I was looking forward to. A small herd of three each time. In terms of birds, most common were hoopoes, Grey junglefowl, Brahminy starlings, Red-vented bulbuls, Magpie-robins, Flamebacks, Streak-throated woodpeckers, Jungle mynas and babblers (both Jungle and White-headed).

The tiger sighting happened in the third safari (evening). Our driver got a call and headed to a waterhole called Kadamatur Katte, where a couple of vehicles waited by the bank. Alarm calls were strangely absent though a langur foraged nearby. Deer were missing in the vicinity. A lapwing was calling hysterically though, punctuated by peacock calls. A few minutes later, a tigress walked out of a game trail on the opposite bank, and descended to the water to drink. However she seemed uneasy with the presence of the jeeps and wandered away to the right, disappearing into the undergrowth. Our jeep cranked up and moved in the same direction hoping for another interception when the van behind us, still parked at the same spot, signaled frantically. Backing up, we found that the tigress had returned to the water hole, slid into the shallows, and was lying with her haunches submerged. We spent some time watching her until she hauled herself out of the water and stalked away into a game trail in the shrubbery, to our left this time. Turning around, we drove some distance and parked near a spot where the drivers judged her likely to emerge. Five or six vehicles had congregated by this time, and we all waited in expectant silence.

The keyed-up tension settled in a few minutes, and we were trying to determine whether a flock of babblers we could see on a forking track ahead was common or white-headed when the tigress abruptly emerged and cantered across the track a short way ahead, much in the manner of a startled cow. We turned into another road in the same direction and some distance ahead, again found a likely spot where she might emerge. A few more vehicles had added on by this time and a long line waited in patient silence.

Eventually our patience ran out and concluding that we’d lost her, we started on our way and had hardly gone fifty meters ahead when she was spotted sitting amidst the lantana, a short way off the road. Our screeching to a halt however alarmed her and rising, she finally turned around and disappeared into the lantana.

Dr. R had stayed on to do an additional safari after we left, and an interesting sidelight is that he returned to the same waterhole the next evening and noticed that in our excitement, we had probably missed spotting a carcass floating in the water. There was evidently some flutter at the human-like appearance of the carcass, but the forest department staff were informed and presently fished out a dead langur.

(Pic by Dr. R).

Here are a few more pictures.

Grey junglefowl, Mr. and Mrs.

White-browed fantail:

Grey francolin:

Paddyfield pipit:

Sambar, note the hairless patch on the neck – this is found in adult males and in pregnant or lactating females, sometimes oozes liquid, and is postulated to be glandular in nature:

Peek-a-boo:

Common mongoose on the main road:

Stripe-necked mongoose, this is the largest species of mongoose in India:

Elephant herd in the grass:

Unnerved by the presence of the jeep, this nervous matriarch turns to flee:

Tiger tiger burning bright, pic by Dr. R:

Here is the complete list of sightings.

Avifauna

1. Asian brown flycatcher

2. Asian koel

3. Ashy drongo

4. Ashy prinia

5. Asian paradise flycatcher

6. Bay-backed shrike

7. Blue-faced malkoha

8. Blyth’s starling

9. Blyth’s reed warbler

10. Brahminy starling

11. Brown fish owl

12. Brown shrike

13. Chestnut shouldered petronias

14. Cinereous tit

15. Common hawk cuckoo

16. Common iora

17. Common kestrel

18. Common myna

19. Coppersmith barbet

20. Coucal

21. Crested serpent eagle

22. Eurasian collared dove

23. Greater flameback

24. Green barbet

25. Grey francolin

26. Grey heron

27. Grey junglefowl

28. Grey wagtail

29. Hoopoe

30. Indian grey hornbill

31. Indian robin

32. Indian treepie

33. Jungle babbler

34. Jungle myna

35. Large cuckooshrike

36. Lesser flameback

37. Little brown dove

38. Little egret

39. Long-tailed shrike

40. Magpie robin

41. Oriental white-eye

42. Paddyfield pipit

43. Pied bushchat

44. Pigmy woodpecker

45. Plum-headed parakeet

46. Purple-rumped sunbird

47. Racket-tailed drongo

48. Red spurfowl

49. Red-vented bulbul

50. Red-wattled lapwing

51. Red-whiskered bulbul

52. Rose-ringed parakeet

53. Shikra

54. Sirkeer malkoha

55. Small green bee-eater

56. Spotted dove

57. Streakthroated woodpecker

58. White-bellied drongo

59. White-browed fantail

60. White-browed wagtail

61. White-headed babbler

62. White-throated kingfisher

63. Yellow-footed green pigeon

Mammals

64. Barking deer

65. Chital

66. Common mongoose

67. Elephant

68. Gaur

69. Malabar giant squirrel

70. Ruddy mongoose

71. Sambar

72. Stripe-necked mongoose

73. Tufted langur

74. Wild boar

75. Tiger

Others

76. Terrapin

March 18, 2014 by Badri

Trip report: BRT Tiger Reserve, March 2014

Trip Report: BRT Tiger Reserve/K Gudi

Dates: 15-17 Mar 2014

Camp: K. Gudi Wilderness Camp

This was the first of a series of summer trips planned months in advance. I did this trip with a friend VV, and my six year old son. We were perhaps a month too early, as the summer mammal sightings had not yet begun in earnest. However we were compensated by abundant avian winter migrant sightings.

The Biligiri Ranganathaswamy Temple (BRT) Tiger Reserve spreads over 590 sq kms of a mosaic of habitats, ranging from scrub to Shola-evergreen forests. The reserve comprises five ranges – the eponymous BR temple is in the Yelandur range while the K. Gudi camp falls under the Chamarajanagar range. It lies at the southern border of Karnataka, and is contiguous with the Kollegal FD to its east (which in turn connects with the Cauvery Wildlife Sanctuary further east). The Sathyamangalam Tiger Reserve lies to its south (which in turn is contiguous with the Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve/Mudumalai to its west). The BRT reserve therefore forms a part of the ecological bridge running east-west between the Western and Eastern Ghats.

We stayed two nights at the K. Gudi camp and did four safaris in all. Summer was just beginning to set in and the days were hot and dry, while the temperature plummeted sharply at sun-down leaving the nights mildly chill. Most trees had shed heavily leaving the forest bare. Visibility was nevertheless poor due to lantana thickets crowding in ubiquitous profusion. Common trees were Terminalia elliptica (crocodile bark), Radermachera xylocarpa (maan kombu maram in Tamil), teak on some slopes and plantation areas, and a tree which our driver Rajesh knew the Kannada name of, which we could not identify.

The camp itself was alive with birdlife. Most common were Cinereous tits and Asian brown flycatchers. These two species were pretty much on every other twig. Followed by Orange minivets, Velvet fronted nuthatches, Malabar parakeets, Asian paradise flycatchers, Bronzed drongos, Ashy drongos, Little brown doves and Jungle babblers. The Jacaranda trees in riotous bloom around the reception area had a constant supply of Vernal hanging parrots on them. Black hooded orioles called frequently though we sighted just one individual. We also sighted a Gold fronted leaf bird, a Pigmy woodpecker, a Large cuckooshrike, Grey wagtails, Magpie robins and Indian treepies, apart from Sambar. I’m not counting the chital and wild pigs which are always to be found in the camp. Nor the semi-domesticated blackbuck doe with the Dr. Jekyll-and-Mr. Hyde personality; it toggled between begging for food and belligerent head-butting.

K. Gudi was the first JLR property I visited (over ten years back). Around the turn of the millennium, we were in the habit of visiting K. Gudi almost once every quarter for a couple of years. Memories of being driven out on safari by Thapa – one of the best spotters you can ever find – and numerous exciting incidents are fresh in my memory. I find I can still recognize the spots where some of those incidents happened.

The four safaris were largely centred around birding, considering that not too much showed up by way of megafauna, charismatic or otherwise. I was especially disappointed not to see any elephants. For me, elephant sightings carry the same thrill as sighting large carnivora.

Most abundant in the forest were three types of drongos (Bronzed, Ashy and White-bellied), Magpie robins, Malabar parakeets, Lesser flamebacks, Indian blackbirds, Bulbuls (both Red-whiskered and Red-vented), Jungle mynas, Hill mynas, Asian paradise flycatchers, Blue capped rock thrushes, Hoopoes, Jungle babblers and Indian treepies. Fairly common also were Common hawk cuckoos, Orange headed thrushes, Indian pittas, Ashy woodswallows and Grey junglefowl.

We had multiple sightings of a Brown fish owl by the same kere. On the way to the safari and a short way from the camp, an Indian scops owl roosted in a burrow high up – we looked for it each time we passed and sighted it twice. And on the way back to camp, a Racket tailed drongo consistently showed up at one spot. For that matter, the pitta turned up in the same place for multiple sightings, as did one particular Asian paradise flycatcher individual. Incidentally, VV and I had some discussion around differentiating juvenile and female Asian paradise flycatchers in the field. Both are rufous and broadly similar looking, but the juvenile male has a jet black throat, and a blue eye-ring. The female has a paler throat and lacks the eye-ring.

Two encounters with atypical individuals happened in the first safari. The first one concerned a sambar stag. We sighted it beside the track and halted. The stag was frozen immobile and alert, watching us. We inched forward in spurts getting closer and closer, and it didn’t move a muscle. Finally when we were practically beside it, its nerve gave way and stamping its foreleg as sambar are wont to do when spooked, it honked in alarm, the sudden loud calls resonating in the quiet of the jungle. Another unseen individual in lantana thickets just beyond was unnerved by these calls and gave alarm too. The herd of three finally disappeared, crashing through the undergrowth.

The second concerned a Grey junglefowl cock that effectively blocked the road, showing little sign of fear at the sight of the jeep. We were forced to tail it slowly for a distance before it stepped off the road and made way.

On day two post breakfast, we drove down the highway towards the south, turning back shortly before the Navodaya checkpost. Chital were calling in alarm at a waterhole a little before this checkpost. We waited for a while, but nothing emerged and the calls presently subsided. Incidentally, a male tiger was sighted on this stretch at 8:30 AM the previous morning by a batch of pilgrims. Elephant encounters are also apparently a daily occurrence here and a little beyond the K Gudi camp, a pack of dhole had been sighted the previous day. However our luck was limited to Malabar parakeets, a Yellow-capped woodpecker, a pair of Orange minivets, a Jungle owlet, Bay-backed shrikes and Tufted langurs,

We then drove back and past the camp, all the way north, turning back a little before the eponymous BR temple. This section of the forest is heavily disturbed, with plenty of traffic, grazing cattle and settlements and is not particularly pleasurable to drive through for this reason.

Here is a full list of the sightings:

Avifauna

Ashy drongo
Ashy woodswallow
Asian blue fairybird
Asian brown flycatcher
Asian paradise flycatcher
Bay backed shrike
Black hooded oriole
Blue bearded bee eater
Blue capped rock thrush
Bronzed drongo
Brown fish owl
Cinereous tit
Common hawk cuckoo
Common rosefinch
Coppersmith barbet (calls only)
Coucal
Gold fronted leaf bird
Greater flameback
Greater racket tailed drongo
Green barbet
Grey junglefowl
Grey wagtail
Hill myna
Hoopoe
Indian blackbird
Indian Pitta
Indian Scops owl
Indian treepie
Jungle babbler
Jungle myna
Jungle owlet
Large cuckooshrike
Lesser flameback
Little brown dove
Magpie robin
Malabar parakeet
Malabar whistling thrush
Orange headed thrush
Orange minivet
Painted bush quail
Pigmy woodpecker
Pipit (species not recognized)
Red spurfowl
Red vented bulbul
Red whiskered bulbul
Rufous babbler
Spotted dove
Streak throated woodpecker
Tickell’s blue flycatcher
Tricoloured munia
Velvet fronted nuthatch
Vernal hanging parrot
White-bellied drongo
White-throated kingfisher
Yellow capped woodpecker

Mammals

Barking deer
Bonnet macaque
Chital
Gaur
Malabar giant squirrel
Sambar
Stripe-necked mongoose
Three-striped palm squirrel
Tufted langur

Here are some random pictures:

Magpie robin:

Painted bush quail:

Jungle myna:

Sambar:

Indian pitta:

Blue bearded bee eater

Gaur:

Barking deer:

White-bellied Drongo:

Indian Scops owl:

Stripe-necked mongoose:

Giant crab spider, a pair of these graced the loo:

“Biligiri”, the last log hut in its row, abuts the jungle and is reputed to offer tiger and leopard sightings if you are lucky:

March 14, 2014 by Badri

Thattekad Reprised – Feb ’14

Trip Report: Dr. Salim Ali Bird Sanctuary, Thattekad

Dates: 21-22 Feb 2014

Camp: Periyar River Lodge

My experience in Thattekad in January enthused BIL B enough to want to do a repeat trip over a quick weekend. Accordingly we bussed in from Bangalore and pretty much replicated the itinerary from the prior trip. With one difference, but we’ll talk about that in a while.

Bhothathankettu was a disappointment and devoid of birdlife. Unlike the last time when I visited on a week day (Friday), we ended up visiting on a Saturday and the place was as lively with squawking tourists this time around as it was with avifauna the last time. The Flame-throated bulbuls were there though, along with the Racket-tailed drongos and Chestnut headed bee-eaters. I checked for the record-breaking teak tree mentioned in my previous post and not unexpectedly, it lay across the river somewhere, out of bounds without permission.

Mr. Luigi and the staff at PRL were hospitable as ever and we settled in with great hopes for the evening. We linked up with Gireesh Chandran at the place where I had sighted the Dollar birds the last time around (they were there this time too). Now Gireesh was accompanied by a couple of his house guests, and these two men had gawked their way through their wish-list over the past couple of days, barring three candidates – Mottled wood owl, Black baza and Drongo cuckoo. And therein lay the rub. Gireesh assumed BIL and I would fall in with their plans to devote our energies to just these three species.

Anyway, we went into the reserve forest area adjacent to the sanctuary and saw a pair of Sri Lanka frogmouths, Yellow-browed bulbul, Brown-breasted flycatcher, White-bellied treepie and the much-sought-after Drongo cuckoo. Not counting the ubiquitous Malabar hornbills, Indian treepies and Racket-tailed drongos. At this point, the rain played spoilsport and we scurried back to town, ending the day’s work with a precious hour’s daylight wasted.

The next morning, Gireesh announced that he planned to take us all to Bhoothathankettu in search of the Black baza, and I was not pleased with this. We had just these two outings on our itinerary and it didn’t make sense (to me) to take BIL all the way to Thattekad and back without ever having set foot inside the sanctuary. At any rate, Gireesh wasn’t going to alter his house guests’ plans, and off he went to Bhoothathankettu looking for the baza. I wanted BIL to experience the rocky area inside the sanctuary that was so productive last time, and got Gireesh to call another guide. Some sort of tenuous arrangement was patched up hurriedly over the phone. BIL and I then drove back to the spot where there was a gap in the sanctuary’s fence and crossed in. Gireesh had some hesitation in sending us in on our own as a herd of elephants was sighted the previous evening in the area, but the fellow on the phone cleared that concern.

Anyway we found our way to the rocky area and joined Vinod, and he did a very decent job of guiding the morning’s outing. We saw Ashy drongo, Hill myna, Rufous woodpecker, Blyth’s starling (excellent and multiple sightings), Green imperial pigeon, Common Iora, Malabar hornbill, Gold fronted leaf bird, Orange minivet, Small minivet and Jungle nightjar. Apologies for the patricians and plebeians all merrily mixed up in that list. Or perhaps not. The highlight of the outing was a frogmouth and chick sighting.

The boat ride around PRL was spectacular as ever. Mr. Luigi himself joined us this time. Ironically, we saw the bird that was partly responsible for the morning’s hullabaloo – the Black baza – right off the boat, a short distance from PRL. And a truly spectacular bird it is. We also saw Black naped oriole, Asian fairy blue-bird, Vernal hanging parrot, Orange minivet and a Crested serpent eagle that thumped onto some small creature in the grass not fifteen feet from us and covered it’s trophy with outspread wings, glowering at us.

Post boat ride, we spent a glorious hour swimming in the river in front of the lodge, and I regret not having done this in the previous trip. Few experiences can beat lazing in a cool, slow-running river flanked by verdant greenery in hot weather.

I should also mention here that the staff and management of PRL showed an admirable degree of concern over the guiding issue, and took pains to follow up and apologize after we had returned to Bangalore. Another reason to return to PRL yet again, next winter.

Here are a few pictures:

Bhoothathankettu:

Batrachostomus moniliger, female on the right:

Frogmouth with chick:

CSE:

“What you lookin’ at?”

Continue reading →

February 2, 2014 by Badri

Trip Report: Thattekad Bird Sanctuary, Jan-Feb 2014

Trip report: Thattekad Bird Sanctuary

Dates: 31-Jan/1-Feb 2014

Camp: Periyar River Lodge

Written: 2-Feb 2014

I’ve wanted to get to Thattekad for a while. This trip materialized unexpectedly though. Work took me to Kochi for a couple of days and I took advantage of this to spend an additional two days at Thattekad.

Thattekad

The Thattekad bird sanctuary, more precisely called the Dr. Salim Ali Bird Sanctuary lies about 80 kilometers north-east of Kochi. It comprises twenty five square kilometers of muggy, lowland evergreen forests and an astonishing number of avian species – over 280 in fact. There are also portions of riverine, scrub and dry deciduous habitats. The Periyar river and its tributaries flow through the area. The recommended window for visiting is Oct-Apr, though the season for winter migrants ends with February.

Bhoothathankettu

We’d left Kochi early in the morning and as check-in time at the Periyar River Lodge (PRL) was at noon, we had time to kill. We stopped off en route at Bhoothathankettu, 64 kilometers from Kochi, for a spot of birding. This forest falls under the Thundathil range of the Malayattoor Forest Division. In 2012, forest staff had discovered what is believed to be the largest teak tree in Asia in this range. Forty meters tall, 500 years old and 765 cms in girth, the giant remained undiscovered until then. Unfortunately I discovered this fact today, after the trip was done.

There is a trail leading off towards Old Bhoothathankettu just before the entrance to the Idamalayar Hydroelectric Project. This trail runs through some very pleasant evergreen forests for a kilometer or two until it reaches the Idamalayar, a tributary of the Periyar. Our driver Vijay was familiar with the area, blessed with superb eyesight, and was developing a fascination for learning the identities of hitherto unknown birds he’d been seeing for most of his life. This plus the time we had on our hands meant we could spend a very pleasant couple of hours on that trail, walking at the pace forests deserve to be walked through. We saw Malabar giant squirrel, Greater racket-tailed drongo, Malabar parakeet, Vernal hanging parrot, Nilgiri flycatcher, Grey headed fish eagle, Malabar whistling thrush and Orange headed thrush. Once we were done, Thattekad was but a short half hour drive from here.

Periyar River Lodge (PRL)

I hadn’t checked out the Hornbill camp, but I did see a couple of other places in Thattekad and nothing is a patch on the PRL in terms of the ambience (from what I saw). The lodge is small and cosy – just two rooms – and is built largely of teak. It is tastefully sited on the Periyar’s banks, in the midst of a rubber plantation. You could spend all day here, sitting by the river bank or reading on the porch.

Lunch done, N disappeared to nap off the fatigue of his journey leaving me to my own devices. I sat with the binos watching a pair of Red whiskered bulbuls gleaning off a tree facing the porch. Something skittered onto a slender bole fifteen feet away. It didn’t seem to be a bird or butterfly and sure enough, it was Draco dussumieri – the Southern flying lizard. I spent an engrossed ten minutes watching it skim from tree to tree. The little creature had a yellow gular sac that it folded and unfolded in a steady deliberate manner.

Once the lizard disappeared, I climbed down to the riverbank and settled down on an exposed root. A Grey junglefowl cock that had been persistently calling during lunch was now soundlessly foraging at the water’s edge on the far side. Nearer at hand, two rocky outcrops midstream held three interesting couples – a pair of Whiskered terns that occasionally took to the air on fishing forays, a much larger pair of River terns that was all squawk and little action, and an odd pair of sleeping cormorants – greater and little. The terns appeared to have a commendable strike rate, tracing large circles above the water together and steeply descending occasionally to scoop prey off the surface before returning to their place on the rock. None of the birds appeared to be bothered by the sun that blazed onto the exposed rock. And all three pairs seemed to be permanent habitués of the rock considering that I saw them on it all the time in the two days I was there.

I also had occasion to speed-read the visitors’ book in the little atrium. PRL is visited mainly by European and American tourists and unsurprisingly, they all wax eloquently about the beauty of the place and the graciousness of the hospitality.

Before I move on, I should make a mention of the open-to-air bathrooms at PRL. There is something singularly delightful about showering with a canopy of green peeping from high overhead.

While I was waiting at the Kochi airport, a friend asked me what the highlights of the trip were. After some thought, I concluded that the PRL experience was definitely one of them (the other being basking in the close presence of the frogmouth).

Gireesh

When I checked around prior to traveling, almost everyone I spoke to pointed me to Gireesh Chandran for guiding. Gireesh is a practicing lawyer aside from his near-legendary guiding credentials. He lives at the periphery of the sanctuary just off the main entrance and has eight rooms to accommodate guests who also wish to stay with him. Gireesh is a man of remarkable energy, with that equally remarkable ability to converse comfortably with you like he knew you forever. And since remarkable things come in triples, Gireesh also has a remarkable story around how he came to be a birding guide. But you should hear that from him first hand…

Being guided by Gireesh Chandran in Thattekad involves keeping up with his blistering pace of walk. Gireesh is a connoisseur of avian super-celebrities, and his single-minded purpose is to make sure you get to cover as much of the A-list as possible in the limited time you have with him. So if you’re expecting to soak in the sights and smells of the forest at leisure, stopping by every bird or other interesting sight, be forewarned that these outings aren’t going to allow you that privilege. Gireesh puts an enormous amount of effort into getting you to meet the A-listers and he expects you to do your bit by sticking with the program. He is often on the phone connecting with fellow guides and others, ceaselessly keeping track of what is sighted where.

The A-list

A quick pre-trip check revealed that the A-list for Thattekad roughly comprises: Sri Lanka frogmouth, Indian pitta, Nilgiri wood pigeon, White-bellied treepie, Nilgiri flycatcher, Grey headed bulbul, Wayanad laughing thrush, Rufous babbler, Malabar lark, Crimson backed sunbird, White-bellied blue flycatcher, Malabar parakeet, Mottled wood owl, Oriental bay owl, Oriental Scops owl, Black throated munia, Black baza, Dollar bird, Drongo cuckoo, Banded bay cuckoo and two needletails. We sighted roughly half this list.

Day 1

We did two outings, one in the evening and another the following morning. For the first one, we linked up with Gireesh in the late afternoon a few kilometers ahead of the sanctuary gate (whilst approaching from PRL). The plan was to cross into the sanctuary at a point a few kilometers north of the main gate. We were admiring a Brown breasted flycatcher prior to plunging under the fence-wire when Gireesh got a message on his “phone tree” about an Oriental bay owl having been located at another location. It was then a scramble back to the cars. This worthy had been sighted in the reserve forest adjacent to the sanctuary proper, and we veered off the dirt road (on foot) into game trails in the thick underbrush. And there in the dim understorey was our quarry – Phodilus badius – the Oriental bay owl.

Three Hungarian birdwatchers whom Gireesh was also guiding settled down to spend some time with the owl, while he took me aside to locate the Sri Lanka frogmouth. I had given Gireesh my wishlist comprising seven species – Sri Lanka frogmouth, Crimson-backed sunbird, Mottled wood owl, Oriental bay owl, Black baza, Vernal hanging parrot and Dollar bird – he was looking to get cracking right away; (Gireesh delivered five of these in two sessions plus many more bonus sightings – the elusive exceptions being the baza and the Mottled wood owl).

Sighting the Sri Lanka frogmouth – Batrachostomus moniliger – is a fairly unique experience. The bird roosts unmoving in thick undergrowth, often in the same spot for months, and at a low height. Due to its reliance on crypsis, you can creep to within a couple of meters provided you keep silent and refrain from making contact with any part of the shrubbery the bird is perched on. And once you are in position, you can spend as much time as you want staring away (or clicking); the bird continues its somnolent trance quite unmindful of you.

Owl and frogmouth done, it was back to the cars. (We had briefly stopped en route to the frogmouth for a Drongo cuckoo sighting). I had asked to be shown the quaintly named Dollar bird, and Gireesh stopped off at a point by the roadside and walked me to a pair high up on a tree.

The Hungarian trio was in quest of an obscure munia I haven’t heard of, and Gireesh led us to a still pool by the river to look for it.

While the Hungarians went about their business, N and I settled down to contemplate a circling Whiskered tern, a lone Asian openbilled stork and a number of Pond herons. Gireesh however doesn’t favour one set of his wards to the detriment of others, and it wouldn’t do to keep me hanging around waiting for a munia I’d never heard of. He therefore asked me if I’d like to meet the Stork-billed kingfisher. He then spent some considerable effort in looking for this bird, including with the lure of playback. But our luck was out and not wanting us to end the day with failure, Gireesh led us into the sanctuary via the main gate to look for the Indian pitta, leaving the Hungarians to their munia.

A few steps into the gate, he managed to spot the pitta and we spent a few minutes admiring the bird in the fading light.

The light was now gone and after stopping by his place for a quick cuppa, we headed back to the PRL in the dark, feeling that glow that accrues from a day that unfolds well.

Day 2

We met for the morning outing at the same point as the previous day, and crossed over into the sanctuary via a small gap in the (unpowered) electric fencing. Dark fronted babblers buzzed a chorus in the background. Gireesh led us up the rocky area ASK had mentioned to me earlier, to a small and lively clearing. We stood around there for a half hour. We spent another half hour on the edge of a rocky promontory nearby with a grand view of the forest below. A succession of species turned up around us in both spots.

Most numerous were Gold fronted leaf birds and Flame throated bulbuls. Malabar grey hornbills were everywhere, and their weird cackling constantly in the background on the trails as well as in the PRL. Other species sighted were the Malabar trogon, a flock of Malabar starlings, Asian fairy bluebird, Bronzed drongo, Ashy drongo, Vernal hanging parrot, Malabar parakeet, Green barbet, Golden oriole, Black headed oriole, Lesser flameback, Greater flameback, Heart spotted woodpecker, White-bellied woodpecker, Green imperial pigeon, Hill myna, Small minivet, Orange minivet, White rumped needletail, Loten’s sunbird, Crimson backed sunbird, Asian brown flycatcher, Grey tit, Grey fronted green pigeon, Crested goshawk and Banded grey cuckoo. A lone Malabar giant squirrel was also seen foraging in the forest below.

We were elated with the morning’s work, but there was more to come. We trooped to yet another spot to look at a solitary Jungle nightjar – Caprimulgus indicus – roosting on a branch high up on a tree, (the only species of nightjar that doesn’t roost on the ground).

The others in the group hadn’t seen the frogmouth, so Gireesh took us to another solitary female deep inside the underbrush. And then we were done and eager to get our breakfasts.

The canoe ride

Mr. Luige, the manager of PRL had organized a post-breakfast canoe ride up the river. Several mentions in the visitors’ book of the canoe ride’s virtues triggered our request. The “canoe” turned out to be a rather large, well-crafted wooden boat manned by two people (Eldhos of PRL and his brother). The ride was through some breathtakingly beautiful scenery. Rank vegetation and dark forests on both sides of the shallow verdant waterway. The only problem was the sun. The ride should have been done earlier in the morning, or late in the evening. As it was, a blazing sun burned down, tanning us all three shades darker. Doing this ride in the early morning or late evening would take you as close to paradise as is possible on earth.

At one spot we noticed a Malabar grey hornbill sitting on the bank. It took flight at our approach, but landed right back at the same spot. Suspecting that it was caught in a snare, we docked the boat and Vijay and I climbed up the sandy bank. The bird allowed us to approach very close, and then took flight a short distance up a tree. There was no snare and the bird was not tethered. Perhaps it was a juvenile, not fully fledged although it appeared to be adult-sized.

A fair bit of birdlife was visible on the ride. Numerous Chestnut headed bee-eaters hawked everywhere. On the trees were Asian fairy bluebird, Racket tailed drongo, a solitary Grey headed fish eagle, Malabar parakeet, Hill myna and a Little heron. In the river were cormorant, darter, River tern and the ubiquitous Whiskered terns. We spotted a solitary terrapin basking on the bank. Just before docking at the lodge, we sighted a pair of Dollar birds and a solitary White browed wagtail.

The list

Here is the full list of avian species sighted.

1/ Asian fairy bluebird

2/ Chestnut headed bee-eater

3/ Dollar bird

4/ Flame throated bulbul

5/ Red whiskered bulbul

6/ Greater cormorant

7/ Little cormorant

8/ Banded bay cuckoo

9/ Drongo cuckoo

10/ Black headed cuckoo shrike?

11/ Ashy drongo

12/ Bronzed drongo

13/ Greater racket-tailed drongo

14/ Grey headed fish eagle

15/ Lesser flameback

16/ Greater flameback

17/ Asian brown flycatcher

18/ Brown breasted flycatcher

19/ Nilgiri flycatcher

20/ Sri Lanka frogmouth

21/ Crested goshawk

22/ Malabar grey hornbill

23/ Little heron

24/ Pond heron

25/ Grey junglefowl

26/ Pied kingfisher

27/ White throated kingfisher

28/ Brahminy kite

29/ Gold fronted leaf bird

30/ Blue faced malkoha

31/ Orange minivet

32/ Small minivet

33/ Black throated munia

34/ Hill myna

35/ White-rumped needletail

36/ Jungle nightjar

37/ Asian openbilled stork

38/ Black headed oriole

39/ Golden oriole

40/ Brown hawk owl

41/ Oriental bay owl

42/ Malabar parakeet

43/ Vernal hanging parrot

44/ Green imperial pigeon

45/ Grey fronted green pigeon

46/ Indian pitta

47/ Malabar starling

48/ Crimson backed sunbird

49/ Loten’s sunbird

50/ Purple sunbird

51/ Indian swiftlet

52/ River tern

53/ Whiskered tern

54/ Malabar whistling thrush

55/ Orange headed thrush

56/ Grey tit

57/ Malabar trogon

58/ Heart spotted woodpecker

59/ White bellied woodpecker

60/ Green barbet

January 6, 2014 by Badri

Trip Report: Megamalai Wildlife Sanctuary, Jan 2014

Trip Report: Megamalai Wildlife Sanctuary

Dates: 3-5 Jan 2014

Companions: GK and VR

(Almost all the photographs here were clicked by GK)

Megamalai Wildlife Sanctuary is a 600 sq km stretch of forest in the Western Ghats, in Theni district of Tamilnadu. It is contiguous with and lies along the north-eastern border of the Periyar Tiger Reserve. The sanctuary was declared in 2012, and harbours two highly endangered endemics – Salim Ali’s fruit bat (Latidens salimali) and Hutton’s pit viper (Tropidolaemus huttoni). More common are elephants, leopards, Sloth bears, Nilgiri langurs, Lion tailed macaques, sambar, chital, dhole and Barking deer. Nilgai are also evidently found here. A tigress with cubs was enumerated in a 2013 survey and we heard claims of over eight cats having been enumerated in the December tiger census. Large tracts of pristine evergreen forests occur at altitude, interspersed with plantations – coffee and cardamom mainly – in the ranges we explored. Our exploration was limited to two of the sanctuary’s six ranges – Vellimalai and Kudalur.

This was another 500+ km drive from Bangalore. We peeled off from the NH7 near Dindigul, towards Theni. The route from here was: Sembatti-Batlagundu-Devathanapatti-Jayamangalam-Vaigai Dam-K. Vilakku-Kandamannur-Kadamalaikundu-Vellimalai

Vellimalai Range

We had sought prior permission to enter the sanctuary at the Manjur checkpost. A twenty five kilometer drive through forested country got us to the gate of the 3,000 acre Pandyan estate. En route is an FRH in a truly delightful spot by a stream, with massive trees towering all around and plenty of birdlife in the vicinity. We tried but couldn’t get permission to stay in this FRH this time around, but that is a place to bookmark and go back to. Around this FRH, we heard loud repeated calls that sounded like shrill, manic laughter. After much searching, the culprits turned out to be a pair of grey hornbills. Malabar or Indian, we couldn’t discern. I later checked Xeno-canto, but could only find the prolongued calls I’m familiar with, for both species.

We did this stretch four times over two days, and saw quite a bit of birdlife, elephant and Black-naped hare. On a large tree that I cannot identify (but which GK thought was Ailanthus triphysa), we saw the largest congregation of Golden orioles any of us had ever seen.

A climb of another eight kilometers from the estate gate brought us to the Vellimalai Murugan temple, from where one gets a panoramic view of the mountain range. This second stretch is at a higher elevation and meanders through plantation and evergreen forest. Several troops of Nilgiri langur can be seen on this stretch.

The lion-tailed macaque proved to be more elusive, though it is reputed to be regularly sighted in the upper reaches. We also saw plenty of Hill mynas, a pair of Malabar trogons, a pair of Asian fairy bluebirds, sambar, Malabar giant squirrels, a Spot-bellied eagle owl, a Green imperial pigeon, gaur and a muntjac (that barked repeatedly, the very first time I’ve heard this – sounded like the bark of a medium sized dog, a spitz or spaniel perhaps). Apart from other assorted birdlife. We also got a fleeting glimpse of a small creature disappearing into the undergrowth. GK was the only one who got a clear look and from his description, it was probably the Indian tree shrew.

The landscape is very sparsely populated, but this was evidently not always so. Not very long back, an estimated ten thousand people lived in these hills, working the estates. With MGNREGS providing a less strenuous option, labour is now hard to find for estates like these. A hundred and fifty families from West Bengal are principally keeping the estate functioning.

On day two, we took a detour from the FRH to get to another estate at Anaikulipallam. This road is utterly dismal, and we did the eight or so kilometers in an MM540, on constant 4WD. The Scorp didn’t stand a prayer of a chance to negotiate some of the boulders or slopes on that track, so we left her parked at the FRH. There are some three stream crossings on that route and Thangaraj, the chap who drove us up told us about the jeep having been washed away downstream from the crossing nearest to the FRH not once, but thrice. It snagged on rocks some distance downstream each time and was hauled back using a tractor. Anyway, we spent some time with a most remarkable individual at the estate settlement (see next section) and were bounced and bumped down again in the late afternoon.

Since we were unable to get accommodation either at Pandyan estate or in the FRH, we were forced to drive down to the plains on both days – to Kadamalaikundu – some eighteen kilometers from the forest checkpost, this being the nearest village with accommodation of sorts on offer.

Dr. P. Ramesh

We met this extremely interesting man en route. Dr. P. Ramesh, PhD, is in his early thirties, works in the police department, and has a passion for wildlife, especially snakes. He runs an NGO called NEST – Netaji Snake Trust – and is involved with animal rescue, awareness dessemination, census operations and a wide variety of research work. When we ran into him, he was jeeping a group of around ten college students on a wilderness field trip to Anaikulipallam. This remarkable young man had spent his own money and effort to cook and carry a packed meal for the entire group, and which he generously invited us to share as well. He had also arranged for some provisions to be jeeped up for the evening meal (which again he’d cook himself). In a kit bag looped around his waist, he carried a snake venom extractor kit and some homeopathic versions of anti-venom. Ramesh does this often – getting different groups of students who are interested to go on field trips with him, to experience and understand snakes at first hand.

We got off the jeeps and walked the last stretch to Anaikulipallam and on the way, Ramesh showed us likely spots for finding Large scaled vipers, Green pit vipers and other snakes. He also talked about an attempt he is involved with to regenerate or cultivate coral reefs along the Tamilnadu coast in a bid to tsunami-proof the coastline. If you are interested in becoming a member of NEST, or in helping this young man with his work in any way, you can reach him at ramesnest@gmail.com.

While walking this stretch, GK and I heard repeated alarm calls reverberating from the valley below. I initially thought they were sambar calls, but these had a distinctly bovine quality to them. That was when Ramesh pointed out that nilgai occured here. I’m guessing that what we heard were nilgai alarm calls, though I’m unable to find any recordings online to verify this. I should also note that we frequently came across dhole scat on the path here.

Kudalur Range

On day three, we did a quick drive through the Kudalur range, around the Suruliyar Power House area. We saw fresh elephant dung and a very strong elephant odour at one spot, but the pachyderms didn’t show. This was in the morning and birds were up and about. This particular stretch had a remarkable number of Blue faced malkohas and Grey junglefowl, and on a silk cotton tree, we saw the largest congregation of Gold fronted leaf birds that we’d ever seen.

Poaching is a constant menace in all these forests, as is cattle grazing. We came across instances of locals poaching deer in Sathyamangalam TR, and now in Megamalai WS. The proliferation of lantana is another menace. Megamalai is fairly choking with lantana at most altitudes, and with a fair bit of parthenium as well.

On the way back to Bangalore, we stopped for a short while at Uttamapalayam to watch thousands of Indian flying foxes roosting on massive Arjuna trees by the banks of the Mullaiperiyar. We made a quick estimate of around a thousand bats in the three trees under which we stood, and there were more such trees along the far side of the river with still more colonies on them.

The List

Here is a full list of sightings from these three days (or at least the ones we could recognize).

Avifauna

Grey bellied cuckoo
Grey junglefowl
Peafowl
Blue jay
Asian koel
Spotted dove
Pond heron
Jungle babbler
White headed babbler
Black drongo
Purple sunbird
Purple rumped sunbird
Plain prinia
Pied bush chat
Indian robin
Bay backed shrike
White browed bulbul
Blue faced malkoha
White bellied drongo
Golden oriole
White throated kingfisher
Changeable hawk eagle
Brown shrike
Common iora
Coucal
Gold fronted leaf bird
Green barbet
Coppersmith barbet
Ashy woodswallow
Red rumped swallow
Common hawk cuckoo
Indian treepie
Velvet fronted nuthatch
Black bulbul
Grey hornbill
Lesser flameback
Racket tailed drongo
Spot bellied eagle owl
Hoopoe
Magpie robin
Chestnut headed bee eater
Malabar parakeet
Rose ringed parakeet
Green bee eater
Indian robin
Common quail
Hill myna
Common myna
Grey wagtail
White-browed wagtail
Asian fairy bluebird
Red vented bulbul
Red whiskered bulbul
Crested bunting? (uncertain ID)
Green imperial pigeon
Malabar trogon
Large grey babbler (thanks to Deepa Mohan for helping ID this and the next one)
Common rosefinch, female? (ID not fully certain)
Malabar whistling thrush (calls)

Fauna

Malabar giant squirrel
Sambar
Barking deer
Gaur
Elephant
Black-naped hare
Nilgiri langur
Indian flying fox
Chital
Indian tree shrew (GK alone got the privilege of this sighting)

December 28, 2013 by Badri

Book Review: Of Birds and Birdsong, by M. Krishnan

Book review: Of Birds and Birdsong, by M. Krishnan

Edited by Shanthi and Ashish Chandola

Aleph Book Company, published 2012

I have alluded to this exceptional book in a previous post, and have been wanting to publish this review for many weeks now.

Once in a rare while, we come across a book that has rich topical value, but which can also be read simply for the elegance of its language. Of Birds and Birdsong is one such book (M.R. James’ Ghost Stories is another that readily comes to mind). If you possess a love for the English language, you’ll enjoy this book immensely even if the immediate topic – birds – is not of any great interest.

Madhavaiah Krishnan (1912-1996) was not just an ornithologist. He was a naturalist and photographer par excellence. For a man with so brilliant a mind he was a failure academically, and tried his hand at an astonishing variety of vocations (including implausibly, goat grazing). But he was a prolific writer and wrote a column for The Statesman which ran for an astounding forty six years, the last piece being published on the day of his death. He was also an artful photographer, producing masterful black and white images from the natural world using equipment he had rigged together himself and dubbed the Super Ponderosa. Krishnan served on the advisory committee of the BNHS, on the steering committee for Project Tiger, and on the Indian Board of Wildlife. He was awarded the Padma Shri in 1970.

This book brings together various pieces Krishnan wrote about birds, over the years. Some of the pieces are quaint given their vintage, like the ones on partridge and gamecock rearing, and pigeon post. Many others are short, straightforward profiles of certain species – the ones on the sarus crane, painted stork, grey junglefowl and changeable hawk eagle for instance. The more delightful ones are infused with personalized observations and anecdotes. There is an essay on the dangers of putting up nest-side hides, and on the precautions to be taken to prevent nest abandonment. There is another very short piece on the significance of the siesta in the animal and bird world. There are two entire sections devoted to pieces that deal with bird calls, and bird flight respectively.

As I have mentioned before, one cannot but help feel that Krishnan’s keen sense of observation was in a word, staggering. Wondering about the allusion to the sweet voice of the parakeet in Indian poetry while the call itself is a harsh screech in reality, Krishnan observed that the rose ringed parakeet has a “low, long, tremulous, ineffably sweet call” when summoning its young to the mouth of the nest-hole. Elsewhere, he painstakingly counted the number of times a hoopoe folded and unfolded its crest in the duration of a minute, and observed how the flicking of the crest expressed “the entire emotional range of the bird”. On yet another occasion he writes about trying to time the rapping beat of a woodpecker with a stopwatch.

The writing is often laced with a subtly wicked sense of humour. In the chapter on birds that can be seen on the “interminable perches” of telegraph wires by the railway tracks, he says what can be principally seen are birds that like to perch high and pounce. “However, it is wiser not to be to exact on such matters. I once saw an undoubted quail planted squarely on a passing telegraph wire. What business can any quail possibly have atop this unnatural perch? I do not know, but I am almost sure the quail did not either.”

In surmising why the white-browed wagtail is not as accomplished a singer as the magpie robin, Krishnan has a clever explanation. “It is all a matter of tails. If it could jerk its tail right over its head, and fan it out as the Magpie Robin does, no doubt it would sing as wildly and wonderfully, but being only a wagtail, it is content with its modest, sweet little song.”

I cannot look at white headed babblers now without this scintillating description coming to mind. “They go hopping along to some corner, and one bird turns a dead leaf over while its fellows look on with a critical slant of their white heads – then, suddenly, the party dissolves in hysterical squeaks, and whirrs across on weak wings to another corner of the compound, where they proceed at once to turn over dead leaves again. Clearly, the birds are daft, but they are a feature of Madras gardens (however nominal the garden) and will always be. By sheer esprit de corps and an inability to take life too seriously, they have prevailed where their betters have given up.”

Once every few pages, you are guaranteed to come across a word you’ve never heard of. Krishnan’s vocabulary was immense, and his love for finding the right word was deep. Whoever thought the grey wagtail’s belly was gamboge in colour? I was piqued by use of the word volplaning on multiple occasions and looked it up. Perhaps I’ve seen it used before, but I cannot recollect it.

Like any exceptionally good writer, Krishnan could be brilliantly evocative when he needed to. Sample this. “I remember spending a delightful hour beside the lake at Siruvani. The great, verdant trees and feathery clumps of bamboos on the shores mirrored in the still water to endow it with a dark, viridian calm. It was almost a scene of idyllic quiet, except that it was all too wildly beautiful to be idyllic, too like something out of a barbarian dream of paradise, and a barbarian that I am, it held me fascinated. Then an egret came flying round the corner, flying low over the water, dazzlingly white and clear against the profound umbers and greens of the reflected forest, each slow, rhythmic stroke of the wings duplicated in the mirror below. Halfway across, the bird stalled and hung in the air, the pinions of the forwardly directed wings splayed out with the braking action, the horn-black, yellow-footed legs dangling and almost touching their twin image on the lake’s surface, the head and neck stretched sinuously forward as it scrutinized something in the water below. For a moment then the stillness was perfect, and for that moment it was no dream but paradise in fact.”

Krishnan was a voracious reader and there are umpteen literary references and allusions scattered all through the book – Lockwood Kipling, William Blake, Richard Lovelace, et al. Moreover there are plenty of references from nature writers of his and earlier generations – men like Konrad Lorenz, Douglas Dewar, ‘Eha’, G.M. Henry, G.P. Sanderson and David Cunningham.

Literary aesthete aside, the book has a wealth of information on over a hundred species of birds from the subcontinent. Much of this is derived from painstaking personal observation over the years. And the anecdotal narrative makes it good fun to read, for most part.

In summation, I found this book breathtaking. If you are reading this blog, you probably have some sort of interest in the natural world and if you do, this book definitely belongs on your bookshelf.

There is a useful ‘notes’ section at the back of the book which among other things, gives the current names of many of the birds. I however felt that these alone could have been footnoted along with the text, for more convenient referencing rather than being placed separately and at the end. But this is admittedly a minor inconvenience.

December 27, 2013 by Badri

Trip Report: JLR Kali Adventure Camp/Ganesh Gudi, Dec 2013

Trip Report: JLR Kali Adventure Camp/Ganesh Gudi

Dates: 24-26 Dec 2013

Written: 26 Dec 2013

Kali Adventure Camp

This trip started off with some misgivings, but found ample recompense eventually. I’ve long wanted to visit JLR’s famed Ganesh Gudi camp, but it was booked out for the Christmas holidays even twenty days in advance. I was therefore constrained to book myself (with my six year old son) into the Kali Adventure Camp, twenty one kilometers from Ganesh Gudi, and a little under 500 kms from home. Incidentally the 500 klicks were doable in six hours excluding a half hour breakfast break and a half hour haircut break at Dharwad (this last being sheer whimsy, I desperately needed one and my GPS took me into Dharwad’s suburbs in any case).

The Kali Adventure Camp does not lend itself to the most favourable of first impressions. For one, it is sited right at the edge of Dandeli town. For another, it is hardly prepossessing in terms of ambience and general upkeep. To put it rather uncharitably but possibly accurately, it reeks of KSTDC rather than JLR. Moreover the place was a chaotic mess when I reached, with groups of people waiting around and the harried staff busy co-ordinating rafting rides for them. Day trippers mostly, from other resorts or homestays. JLR has a monopoly on the Kali river rafting and the crowds therefore head here. Amidst all this confusion, I had a tough time trying to figure out what I was going to be doing for the rest of the day. More than once, I was tempted to simply leave forfeiting the payment made.

Anyway, the evening was spent in a short coracle ride in the vicinity of the camp (the camp being sited along the Kali river). Wooly necked stork, river tern, common sandpiper, white browed wagtail and green bee eater later, we drew up by a tree I cannot identify, with small berries fruiting on it. An assortment of species were clustered on its branches, and we spent the next half hour anchored to the spot. There were a number of green pigeons – these birds tend to roost gregariously – and an astonishing number of coppersmith barbets. Dandeli is most famous for its hornbills – all four species can be seen here – the great Indian hornbill, the pied hornbill, the Indian grey hornbill and its casque-less cousin the Malabar grey hornbill. Of these, there were a few pied hornbills on the tree, as well as around in general. There were also a number of common and jungle mynas. Among the solitaries was an Asian koel, a female gold fronted leaf bird, an ashy drongo and a Malabar grey hornbill. A very satisfying half hour in a quiet, pleasant spot.

Karthik, Jungle Lodges’ chief naturalist had very sensibly suggested that I spend the whole of the second day at the Old Magazine House (OMH) in Ganesh Gudi, getting there early in the morning. A suggestion that completely changed the complexion of the trip. There’s been a lot written about the OMH. Dr. Huilgol did an admirable feature on it somewhere. Suchi Govindarajan has written a guest piece on Jlrexplore.com. Karthik and Poornima did a photostory on Ganesh Gudi’s butterflies. And Rana and Sugandhi have created a brilliant film, featuring vignettes of preening and shaking birds against a ghatam background score timed to perfection. The OMH apparently leaves everyone it touches spellbound, but the experience is much more than you can experience vicariously. I was certainly caught by surprise.

So there were the expected bird baths, and the expected line of seats and the expectant, watchful audience. And the expected long lenses on their tripods. The morning’s experience was relatively muted. Some birds did turn up at intervals. Lakshman, the guide who had accompanied me from the Kali Camp promised much more in the evening.

Kanshirda

We came back to the Kali camp to grab lunch, and then drove another six kilometers to a lovely little lake with the lovelier name of Kanshirda (actually the lake inherits the name of the nearby village). I settled myself on the gnarled roots of a tree on the bank binoculars in hand, and spent a very pleasant hour there. The experience was inviting enough to lure me there for a repeat visit this morning.

Flocks of lesser whistling ducks and little grebes foraged among the lilies. Three couples were visible further afield – bronze winged jacana, common sandpiper and river tern – and a lone wood sandpiper. Numerous barn swallows hawked insects on the wing. Lakshman pointed out multiple flocks of cotton teals in the distance, but I couldn’t get a clean look at duck or drake even with the 10X50s owing to the luxuriant vegetation on the water. The usual suspects were also present in numbers – red wattled lapwing, pond heron, egret, white throated kingfisher, common kingfisher, little cormorant and brahminy kite. On the trees by the water, a flock of white-rumped munias advertised their presence noisily. And a solitary baybacked shrike sat on a fence post watching the proceedings with disdain, flanked by a trio of spotted doves. The highlight of this sitting was watching a pair of white bellied woodpeckers merrily rapping away on separate trees. These are spectacular birds, large and jet black with startling red crests, all this nicely offset by the pure white of the belly. I watched them until my arms ached from holding the binos up.

The Old Magazine House

Coming back to the OMH, the evening session was simply spectacular. And this despite the heightened expectation and all the hype. Reaching there at a little before five in the evening, the next hour and a quarter was spent standing, binocs in hand, with very little “downtime”. Those bird baths were kept very very busy, one lot finishing and another waiting impatiently for their turn. The larger ones didn’t bother with waiting, they just waded in and displaced whoever was at his ablutions willy nilly.

I sighted twenty three species in all, in that single session of a little over an hour: Asian brown flycatcher, blue capped rock thrush, black throated munia, orange minivet, velvet fronted nuthatch, black lored tit, Tickell’s blue flycatcher, white rumped shama, spider hunter, Asian paradise flycatcher, forest wagtail, verditer flycatcher, bronze winged drongo, leaf warbler, purple rumped sunbird, white bellied blue flycatcher, yellow browed bulbul, emerald dove, oriental white eye, orange headed thrush, brown fulvetta, ruby throated bulbul and puff throated babbler.

I’m not sure there is any other place to compare with the OMH for sheer diversity of bird sightings all in a single spot.

My luck wasn’t good enough to get the Malabar trogan to visit. Malabar giant squirrels called constantly from nearby, but I couldn’t spot the little machine-gunners. I also missed seeing or hearing the Malabar whistling thrush, a bird that Ganesh Gudi is justifiably proud of dubbing the resident morning wake-up caller. And I missed the Big H – the great Indian hornbill. But no matter for regret, that. I was sated with the rest.

The wonder of the baths aside, the Old Magazine House is an extremely pleasant place to stay in. Small and cosy, it is tucked away in a densely wooded spot well off the road. It’s just a row of a few log huts on stilts, the gol ghar, and the bird baths with their cordoned watching area. Interestingly there is a dorm with bunk beds and a warren of shared loos attached.

Lakshman encouraged me to come back in the summer once for the birds, and again a little later, as soon as the first couple of pre-monsoon showers arrived, to look for snakes – Russel’s viper, saw-scaled viper, vine snake, Malabar pit viper, green pit viper and more. These can evidently be found on the rough trail between the camp and the road. He did warn me though that the place would be teeming with leeches. I hate leeches. Everyone does, but I hate leeches with an especially vicious intensity. But perhaps I’ll hazard a trip when the rains start to try my luck with the snakes.

I’m now dreaming of managing a trip to the OMH off the vacation season and in mid-week sometime, when the place will be empty of its gawking audience. Just the birds and me, if that is ever possible. Vinayak, the amiable and very knowledgeable naturalist at the OMH has promised to sit with me and help identify bird calls if I ever get there on a quiet day.

There’s a government saw mill and timber depot near the Kali camp, and this has a couple of trees which evidently harbor some lively birdlife when in fruit. Lakshman took me there this morning, but my luck was out. There were no figs on offer and the place was quiet as owls’ wings.

Incidentally, I should point out that I skipped the safaris into the Dandeli Anshi Tiger Reserve (DATR) as the forest is overcrowded with too many vehicles in it, and suffers from a poor reputation as far as sightings go. The DATR is reputed to harbour melanistic (black) leopards among other fauna, but the daytime jeep safari was not going to help me sight them.

Before I end this post, I should also point out that Kali’s faults aside, the staff have the same thoughtful courtesy that is the hallmark of JLR everywhere. Shashi, the activity organizer and naturalist at Kali went out of his way to keep me happily engaged. Anand did a masterful job of the coracle ride. And Lakshman was with me for pretty much the rest of the time, working tirelessly to spot birds, birds and more birds for me to gawk at. These guys are very good at what they do.

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Trip report: BRT TR & Bandipur NP, May 2014

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Book Review: The Secret Life of Tigers, by Valmik Thapar

Trip Report: Bandipur National Park, March 2014

Trip report: BRT Tiger Reserve, March 2014

Thattekad Reprised – Feb ’14

Trip Report: Thattekad Bird Sanctuary, Jan-Feb 2014

Trip Report: Megamalai Wildlife Sanctuary, Jan 2014

Book Review: Of Birds and Birdsong, by M. Krishnan

Trip Report: JLR Kali Adventure Camp/Ganesh Gudi, Dec 2013