I've never been a birdwatcher. Impressive and rare mammals are obvious photographic successes. Reptiles offer quirky freeze-frame pictures in gorgeous greens and reds. Fish are supremely challenging to photograph well in their natural habitat and so an evident achievement. Insects and other creepy crawlies are just downright alien and thus fascinating by definition.
Birds are amazing - flying, swooping, brightly coloured and behaviourally captivating. But they had always been the least compelling wildlife to photograph to me - in truth something you snap pictures of whilst looking for mammals. This ridiculous shortsightedness belies the passive cataloguing of thousands of avian species I've incidently done whilst out on other photoshoots.
Fresh from this discovery and a newfound interest and engagement with bird photography, we headed off to Namibia's Central Plateau - vaguely defined as the geographic belt of the country spanning the wilderness regions of Erongo, Khomas, Otjozondjupa and southern Kunene. Much of my camera equipment is geared towards long-range telephoto and low-light photography. This makes it ideal for photographing birds of all kinds, providing they behave.
Southern Africa as a whole is, quite frankly, the VIP club in the penthouse suite of any birdwatcher's party. It is replete with such a dazzling array of amazing species, splattered with every colour of the rainbow and represented by scores of endemic and highly localised species. Antarctic migrants, desert-endemics and jungle specialists are all found in enormous numbers here and one could craft a life well spent simply reading about and cataloguing them.
Namibia obviously caters more to species preferring an arid or sandy environment, but in its unique landscape - as with all types of animal - unique wildlife thrives and many of the country's desert-adapted birds are found nowhere else. This fact alone makes sightings of even the most mundane-seeming species extraordinarily special, particularly for photographers who have never visited this part of the world before; everything they see is brand new to them.
As has been so often the case in my photographic excursions, we were often out in search of other target animals to take pictures of when exciting bird encounters were made purely by chance. I had learnt my lesson to embrace this sideshow in South America, where surprisingly rare birds can present themselves to the photographer while one is poised to photograph pumas or dolphins.
Africa is no different: be it tractrac chats (an endemic species that, on its own, draws birders from all over the world) making an appearance while we were photographing Namaqua chamaeleons, secretarybirds kicking up dust in front of desert gemsbok, or an unexpected cormorant far from the coast taking a break on a waterhole while we were tracking a leopard; photographing one animal so often leads to another and the most unexpected of adventures.
Throughout my time in the central belt I was treated to a cavalcade of birdwatching opportunities, and with camera in hand it is simply impossible not to take advantage of them. An almost complete representation of bird families from across Southern Africa is on display - raptors, shrikes, flamingoes, ostriches, owls...the works essentially.
Almost immediately on arrival in Khomas Region we were introduced to Go Away birds (their "G'way!" is often heard in the mid-morning across much of South Africa and Namibia), a range of cuckoos - so many cuckoos - and the ever present Fork-tailed Drongos and Crimson-breasted Shrikes that populate this part of the world.
Our first real treasure trove was made apparent the first morning we woke at the Erindi Reserve in the far east of Erongo Region. Showers of ground crickets, praying mantisses and thrumming rhinoceros beetles buzzed our camp all night. The second the sun is gone and the fire is lit, armies of bugs hide on the margins of the heat, a surprise to unsuspecting safari first-timers.
As the sun comes up a new army descends - Babblers and the aforementioned Shrikes to be precise - to mop up the feast of insects left wandering around in the light. Moths, glow-worms and dung beetles are favourites and they waste no time snatching them up until the ground and other surfaces are devoid of insect life. We watched in amazement as scores of Southern Pied Babblers struck in force, their singular focus to tidy out camp as best they could.
Shortly after the bug massacre, we saw three giant African favourites in quick succession; first off a Marabou stork. Undeniably one of the continent's ugliest birds, they are also majestic and strike an imposing appearance as they stride along the banks of wetland rivers and waterholes. This particular individual was warily sidling past a herd spooked blue wildebeest, still edgy from the fearsome roars of not-so-distant lions earlier in the morning.
Wading in the red mud at a waterhole behind our camp, the Marabou has one of the widest wingspans of any bird in the world. It is a consummate scavenger and is found in a band across Sub-Saharan Africa down to pretty much the Tropic of Capricorn. Marabou feathers are commonly used in clothing in many African countries, and thankfully the species is not currently considered endangered.
Driving away from the campground, a pair of Common Ostriches appeared, shuffling and shaking as they struggled to get comfortable in the weird juxtaposition of desert summer air and the aftermath of the night's downpour. The silvery grey females perfectly compliment the darker males. Their overly flamboyant plumage and scruffy tail feathers give them a half-finished look.
This pair weren't interested in doing much with their day except picking at one another as an old married couple. A young male interloper appeared behind some scrub thorns and was hastily booted off the stage by the older male. Activity of any kind makes for thirsty work in Namibia, and they slowly moved off to a nearby overflowing dam.
As we pulled away Africa's largest flying bird popped its head out from the tall grasses and strutted like an inverted leather boot through the greenery as if cursing us for our very slight expectation that it might take to the skies. The Kori Bustard is a dense block of a bird but can sustain - albeit grudgingly - low flight over the grasslands. Our resident birdwatcher's thick Oshiwambo accent made me double take when he first sighted what I thought was a Tory Bastard - thankfully not!
Namibia's government-approved wildlife guides are renowned across Africa - their training and knowledge of education, conservation and zoology is truly impressive, all the more so when so many of them also speak at least four languages well. In a place filled with so many unfamiliar and highly specialised species, their presence is always very much appreciated, not least their ability to help photographers achieve their goals.
The Erindi reserve in Erongo Region is also home to substantial population of the otherwise struggling White-backed Vulture. Vultures across Africa and Asia have suffered a grim fate in the last few decades as a result of toxic agro residues and veterinary medicines accumulated in their preferred food source - decaying animals and particularly livestock. Mass die-offs of vultures have been reported and these critical wildlife caretakers are suddenly absent across large swathes of their historic range.
Fortunately the population in Erongo is doing better - their hunched silhouettes obvious from far away as they huddle together in trees and particularly around the dams and waterholes of reserves. Not always the most photogenic species, they are a personal favourite of mine in the context of avian photography as they can make for some delightfully dramatic pictures.
An impressive array of Hornbill species - so beloved of popular animal-themed variants of Hamlet - are found lurking in trees in the midday across the region as well. The Monteiro's Hornbill is a unique variant found predominantly in this portion of Namibia, closely related to the more familiar Southern Yellow-billed Hornbill of greater acclaim. These "flying bananas" are beady-eyed spies, dominating campsites and rarely shying away from approaching photographers.
Another central plateau favourite are the range of Korhaan species. Most evident are the Red-breasted Korhaans, in the late summer rains to be found stalking elegantly through head-height grasses and scrub with their perfectly proportioned miniature offspring. The combination of the two is particularly endearing, and we were lucky enough to see Korhaans in both the relative greenery around Okonjima and out in vicious desert heat at Cha Re deep in the Namib-Naukluft.
In a similar environment, the characteristic Hoopoe was a particular goal of mine and though we saw a couple flitting through the green and black of some healthy thorn acacia trees, they made quick exits and defied a satisfactory picture, both occasions on account of nearby waiting Pale-chanting Southern Goshawks. These unassuming birds of prey dominate the low plains of Namibia and blend perfectly into the landscape. Pleasingly they are quite common, though getting close enough for a decent picture can be a challenge.
Hoopoes saved for another visit, I was fortunate enough to photograph one of my all time goals - the equal-parts ridiculous and spectacular Secretarybird. Across the windy devilthorn-dusted dunes of the Namib Rand, we encountered several of these incredible birds - oversized trousers flailing and mesmerising spiked plumage wobbling in the breeze.
The comedy of such a bird in the late light, surrounded by child-like vistas of zebras and iconic desert trees paints a picture of Africa straight from literature - one of simultaneous fantasy and reality. The lines of such experience are always blurred in such places but it is an extremely fuzzy line in the Namibian desert.
The Namib Rand showed us a few more goshawks and a host of queleas - the most numerous bird in the world by many authorities. Their huge numbers here are testimony to that. Heading away from the rand we ventured into the imposing cliffs of the Nubib Mountains nearby - a feature of the Central Plateau proper - and immediately encountered scores of ubiquitous weaver bird nests.
Sociable weavers are a common sight across Namibia. We had made friends with number of the luminescent yellow Masked Palm Weavers at Palmwag junction in Damaraland, sneakily fashioning a delicate nest at the far end of a branch to deter snakes from poking their noses in during the night. The sociables are less visible against the brown and green camouflage of the mountains but their creaking nests adorning the tops of multiple trees at a time instantly give away their presence.
Here an elsewhere, especially on the edge of the Central Plateau ranges, we were were treated to an almost unlimited supply of Red-eyed Bulbuls - a Southern African favourite. Curious and tolerant of proximity, they make for easy targets on the branches of nearby bushes when one is camping. The juveniles are particularly photogenic with their fluffy bellies and scruffy looking heads
A little further into the mountains and we encountered a number of Verreaux's Eagles - sharply contrasting birds of prey swooping close up against the cliffs. Their preferred prey small mammals and snakes, but even baby baboons and hyraxes should pay close attention to the skies as the eagles aren't fussy. Verreaux's love the canyons of the central mountains, and are often sighted swooping down the spectacular Fish River Canyon further south in !Karas Region, but that was further than we could make on this trip.
Challenging to photograph, even to see in some cases, we caught them circling in the late morning before the rains came in force and we had to depart lest the flooding renewed and stranded us up on the mountain roads. A group of white-backed vultures watched us leave again and we were on our way back to the subdued bustle of the capital region, encountering vicious torrential rains on the roads north of Rehoboth - a ridiculous sight when one recalls the extreme aridity of the tourist perception of Namibia, though essential for the vitality of the lands.
Namibia's birdlife is a panoply of exciting encounters, varied and wonderful each time one steps outdoors. Countless other specimens were encountered, and my knowledge and speed at identifying the individuals we found was tremendously poor compared to that of the locals so I'm sure we missed many opportunities that more rigorous birdwatchers would have covered.
I can barely do coverage of so many different species justice in one short article, and I've tried to cover the more memorable or exciting encounters in other articles. The spread of species and the sheer opportunity to encounter them is a magnetic pull to the region for anyone with even the fainest interest in birdlife. One thing is clear, though, and that is to keep your eyes peeled and your guidebook to hand at all times no matter where you are in this spectacular land.
All photography © Chris Milligan Photo. All views are my own. Seek local recommendations before photographing or approaching any wildlife.
Comments