The birds of the South Coast
Kookaburras - they’re about as Australian as the kangaroo. Pelicans may not be equally antipodean, but that doesn’t detract from their appeal - they just set off a lot of images of Hemingway in the Florida Keys for me. They’re the hallmark of deep sea fishing and slightly drunken adventures in the tropics. The following bird pictures are from a somewhat less adventurous trip down the south coast of New South Wales, from Sydney to Ulladulla and back.
That’s right: Ulladulla. As far as drunken adventures go, the one where they named Australian towns must have been a pretty good one.
This is from the seafood restaurant at the harbour just after the town centre of the little town of Kiama. Of course, we promptly took this as an invitation to feed these monstrous seabirds even more, the hope being that on our next visit, they will have added the sick and the elderly to the in-risk group.
These pelicans were about one and a half meters tall when they stretched out their necks. They were sitting along the harbour between the seafood restaurant and the landing site for the fishermen, strategically placed to get some treats. I think this provided the birds with such a surplus of food that they had long since given up on any other means of feeding - they appeared quite content with sitting entirely still until a piece of fish would come flying in the direction of their beaks.
There’s always something uncanny with animals who learn to become so ingrained with people. Ideally, I guess, they should be wild, flying undisturbed by humans and hunting down each other instead. However, we never seem to think twice about the dependence upon humans of a cat, dog or other pet. When the animals themselves come to us for food and become dependent upon tourists, it just doesn’t sit right. Maybe it is because it just makes it so obvious how many other people were here before you.
These kookaburras were even more tame. They were staking out a lookout-point in Kangaroo Valley, not too far from the little town of Berry, and were so friendly they would let us walk over to them and pet them. Touching them might not have been the greatest idea, as even the cutest of Australian animals often have the most devastating poison or carry the most devious diseases.
For example the possum-fever, a nerve disease carried by the furry little possums. If they scratch you with their adorable human-like hands, the ensuing untreatable detoriation of the nerves will eventually be fatal, but on the upside it will take up to five years before the damage is completely done.
The little kookaburra with the mandarin was interesting. Konrad Lorenz coined the term Fixed Action Pattern - referring to the tendency of animals (including humans) to have some pre-set, inherited behavioural sequences that are rigid and initiated by specific stimuli in their environment. For example, a newly hatched duckling will attach to the first living creature it sees, and follow it like it is a mother. In humans, yawning is an example.
For the bird, the piece of mandarin it was given seemed to act as a stimuli. It grabbed it and smashed it repeatedly against the fence it was sitting on, apparently ensuring itself that the treat was actually dead. Or to break its shell or skin. The power it managed to put into it was quite impressive, and smashing open the piece was quite unproblematic, as the mess vouches for. However, it was completely meaningless, as the mandarin slice was completely smashed to pieces and at least half the juice and meat was splashed around when he finally ate the thing. Definitively a fixed action pattern.
Also, listen to the clip of a laughing kookaburra at the Honolulu Zoo’s pages.
I don’t know why these birds are so flirtatiously playing with the lens when I’m photographing them, but I’m happy they’re letting a little bit of personality through. Good work.
Nothing to see here. Move along..
