Initially, I missed the Brown Honeyeater on Manfred Ruff’s property in Wirrate that turned up in March, because of personal commitments. So when Manfred found it again and put it on Birdline after a 4-week absence, there was no way I wasn’t twitching this absurd Mega. (4th record for VIC)
Because of my 3rd-party insured car accident in February in Chiltern, which wrote off both vehicles, I’m currently without a car. After the Melbourne-Adelaide fundraiser ride with Jordy, where my bike was stolen in Adelaide, I’m without any wheels at all. Jordy and I spent the day in Langwarrin South looking at an old 2002 Mitsubishi Verada in fairly good condition, going for $500 that I want to buy and fix up.
The logistics of making the whole day work where I’d get to Nagambie to camp were tight because of that- we made the crucial Cardinia Rd station train 1 minute before it left. I got home to every battery bank in the house being flat- but knew there would be charging on the Vline. I had 30 minutes to pack, grabbed my sister’s bike, then sent it from Lilydale-Southern Cross- where I found out in horror that the Seymour service I was on was an older Vline model and had no USB ports- leaving me with a flat battery bank and dangerously low charge to navigate to Wirrate…
The train also terminates at Seymour, not Nagambie, unlike the previous train, which would have saved me ~>20km of riding.
I got to Seymour at around 9:36pm and rode for just under 3 hours and camped at midnight at the Major Creek camping area, with 10% battery remaining. My makeshift setup is a bit diabolical. The milk crate and bike rack setup is gone (thanks to that thief in Adelaide)- so I was just riding with my backpack on my chest and my huge hiking pack on my back while riding an undersized naked bike. On the way, I found a tawny frogmouth, a very unfortunate fresh roadkill red-bellied black snake (which I may or may not have taken as a souvenir for science), a Kreft’s Glider, and heard some shelducks moving through, and a barn owl and plenty of owlet nightjars. Riding past the military base was somewhat eerie. The tall electric fences and signs of death are pretty good deterrents. Bush-stone curlews are known to breed in there, thanks to the intensive predator control and high-security fences- probably their most secure location in VIC. Looking for them would mean getting shot or stepping on bombs though.
I got up at 5am in the dark the next morning and rode the remaining 19kms to Manfred’s place. The chain got stuck in the gear, which I fought very hard for half an hour to fix and eventually did.
When I rocked up, the place was covered in birds. Even the previous night, I could see the profusely flowering ironbark and some box trees, but now in the daylight, you can really see how good of a season this year’s box ironbark autumn-winter will be.
Meeting Manfred you are immediately aware of his warm kindness and intimate knowledge of his property, which he has owned for nearly 30 years. He keeps all invasives on his property in check with an iron fist, and the wildlife has thanked him for it. In his garden, Diamond Firetails breed and have become so accustomed to their human friends- without ever being fed, might I add- that this year’s young are so tame one even landed on someone’s shoulder recently!
Manfred and his wife run a camping ground on their property, too, which anyone can pay to stay at, and birders regularly visit with permission and a small upkeep fee. Though there have been so many twitchers lately, he’s had trouble keeping up and remembering all the names! He’s met my friends Mitch Drysdale, Chanith Wijeratne, Josh Gatchalian and Leo Norman, who went and saw the bird in March.
The bird in question was last seen on Saturday morning in the apricot tree and adjacent ironbark near the house. I met Stuart Bell, who was staking out these trees without any luck. I went for a wander around the property and incredibly refound the bird at the top of the driveway, in an ironbark, about 250 meters from the apricot tree. It was mimicking the other honeyeaters’ calls, which I thought was pretty interesting and potentially unusual. I ran up as fast as I could and got Manfred and Stuart. We all got great views and Stuart got photos.
The other birders were more interested when I radioed in to Manfred and said I’d found a Swift Parrot, the colourful, critically endangered Tasmanian autumn/winter migrant to box-ironbark- another bird attracted to the flowering ironbarks. It unfortunately left the new Brown Honeyeater spot as swiftly as it had arrived. There were a few other birders who had just left before I found the BH- the other photographers who were here for their Swift Parrot lifer instead came home with a glimpse of this incredibly locally rare but otherwise fairly dull-looking bird, so they weren’t nearly as excited. This is also the longest- staying record for Vic, it’s been around for at least 6 weeks, probably thanks to the abundance of food in the ironbarks this season. The other 3 times, the bird was barely a one-day wonder.
Manfred was very interested in my stabilised spotting scope, and is also considering buying one!
He’s also got two dogs, Wombat and Polar Bear- they’re really good with all the birds, except the welcome Swallows. Why just the swallows, you ask? Funny story, Manfred told me. Well, one day, after a few years of allowing the swallows to nest under the eaves, Manfred decided that the mess was too much, and to discourage the swallows from nesting there, using a broom to clear up the chunks of mud early in the season before the swallows could start building there- to discourage them. Doggo 1 saw this and picked up from the master that swallows build nests- Manfred clear nest- Manfred no like swallow nest- swallows=bad- even though Manfred never did anything to the swallows themselves and does really like them still, of course. But now the dog chases the swallows. One of the dogs is also terrified, fully scared to death of king parrots for no reason (and will literally hide in the house when it hears them call, they have no idea why), and the same one was recently dive-bombed by a friarbird. Gosh I love dogs. Especially the funny ones.
I spent the rest of the day wandering the property, looking for some of the other local gems, like Chestnut-rumped Thornbill and Heathwren, White-fronted and Tawny-crowned Honeyeater, late-staying Black Honeyeater, Hooded Robin, Gilbert’s Whistler, Little and Purple-crowned Lorikeets, and Crested Bellbird- the latter three I did connect with. A bonus bird was the female-type Rose Robin I found, a bird Manfred hasn’t seen on his property in a few years. Some other nice birds on his property are more of the typical box-ironbark suspects, Brown Treecreeper, ludicrous numbers of various species of Honeyeater, including Black-chinned, White-browed Babblers, Scarlet Robins and Emus. Barking Owls are also on the property, but I had to leave before having a chance to spotlight- after a really nice lunch with Manfred and his wife, I had to gun it to Nagambie to catch the last train before it left. Manfred and I are very similar in a lot of ways, one being the similar father-son birding team relationship he had with his Dad, where we’re the knowledgeable younger-eyed spotter, and he’s the keen, talented photographer. I said goodbye but had to turn back for my charging bank, which I had left on Manfred’s desk to charge. It now had plenty of charge, but that one single mistake would cost me. My ETA was now 4:57- 2 minutes after the last train was leaving…
I rode as fast as I could, but somehow only shaved off one minute- and as I arrived, gasping for breath, I watched in despair as the last train for the entire day left.
I was stranded in Nagambie. I went to the IGA to buy some water as I was parched after non-stop full power riding with a hiking pack- and met a lovely old lady named Mol, who asked me how my day was. I explained it all, and she said to go to the mail hotel and quote her name to the owners, and they’d give me a place to stay. So I went, thought I’d give it a crack. They had no room, but one of the employees, (we’ll call him Bob for privacy reasons) graciously gave me a place to stay at his house overnight, pointed me straight to his house and told me to make myself at home! I was happy to just set up my tent somewhere, but he insisted. Having never slept on a random stranger’s couch before, I was a bit nervous. The house smelled of weed. Though it wasn’t long until the genuine act of kindness really started to set in, and I lost a lot of my waryness about the situation. The artwork on the walls gave me a sense that he was deeply in touch with his First Peoples heritage. The cat was unbelievably friendly, too. I had nothing to give in return other than my wildlife knowledge. His story was really interesting too. Raised by his Grandmother in Shepparton, He moved here after a rough patch, stole and rescued a dog who was about to be put down, works 2 jobs, and his partner is as gracious as he is.
In the morning, he even made me a coffee! The kindness of strangers continues to be a theme of my adventures…
I got his number too, a lesson I’m slowly learning- all these amazing people I meet, I want to talk to them again sometime and not never see them again.
Got home and remembered the snake. I was unable to suppress my inner child and took mischievous joy in pranking my sisters and then mum with the snake, put it outside beside the house, etc., for the reactions. Really showing my maturity levels. The snake was in the brain of my hiking pack that whole time. I didn’t tell anyone. It was only when I got home that I realised the decomposition process was speeding along much quicker than I would have thought or liked…
The hiking pack is now soaking in scented warm soapy water, because there’s snake blood reeking the house out. Really regretting that souvenir decision now.
What a story, glad I missed the opportunity to go see the bird the first time in March!