Inselaffe abroad

From Diadiam III we boarded possibly the most rickety vehicle I've ever had the privilege to travel in and headed off to our next accommodation at Lampsar Lodge, on the banks of the river Lampsar at Ndiaye. Our 'taxi' was a rusting grey bus with three banks of seats spanning the interior behind the driver and two sets of seats facing one another at the rear. There was - fortunately - space on the roof to carry the luggage. The windows weren't brilliant at opening and the bus had probably been built some decades before air-con was invented, but we were well-ventilated with some rust holes in the floor which were more or less the size of my hand (I did wonder whether someone's foot might go through if they trod unwarily), so we could share the dust and exhaust fumes with ease. We couldn't go at more than about 40 km/h, but given the road surface and the state of the bus that was probably a blessing. The rear doors had to be held closed by a rope for the entire journey by the lad accompanying the driver (who also had the unenviable task of getting the luggage on and off the roof). We got there in one piece though, which is all we could ask. One interesting moment about a kilometer from the lodge when the police at one of the many, many checkpoints waved us over and checked the driver's paperwork. Something, somewhere, was obviously unsatisfactory, so there ensued a long wait while the driver negotiated and eventually (by the look of it) coughed up a contribution to be allowed to continue.

Taxi to Lampsar...

As we drove away from Diadiam, we passed through areas of extensive bare earth with occasional tamarisks, obviously periodically inundated and then drying, then over various canals and ditches carefully carrying water away from the main river to areas where the farms were. The first fields - furthest from the settlements along the main road - were being cleared and prepared entirely by hand. Pretty hot and thirsty work by the look of it.

Close to Diadiam III - dry, saline and not overly inspiring

This is where the water's going?

Lampsar was a little like stepping into another world. The lodge lies on the river (judging by the height of the water along the wall there, under the river might be a better description) and was surrounded by coconut palms and lush greenery. There were Pied Kingfishers hunting the river from the shade of the trees, Yellow-crowned Gonoleks nabbing food from the trio of penned tortoises and piles of excitable weavers in the trees: chatting, gossiping and tuning up for a busy breeding season. Nice to recognise a song I last heard nearly 20 years ago in Kenya: Village Weavers. There were also sunbirds in the bushes and firefinches on the deck. All in all, a little different to Diadiam III.

Lampsar Lodge

Looking west from the dining area, downriver along the Lampsar...

...upriver looks similar.

A not-very good photo of a very good-looking bird: Yellow-crowned Gonolek

Pied Kingfisher

The ringing was also somewhat different. By far the most frequent birds in the nets were Black-headed Weavers and Sudan Golden Sparrows, closely followed by Red-billed Queleas, Red-billed Firefinches and Little Weavers. There were good reasons to be attentive when taking stripy brown finchy things out of the nets though: lurking in there were the occasional Yellow-crowned Bishop, Northern Red Bishop, Pin-tailed Whydah and Village Indigobird. It would be soooo much easier when the little blighters are in breeding plumage, but the challenge of identifying them out in non-breeding plumage was eagerly accepted. The palearctic migrants were skewed much more towards the scrub-inhabitants: Western Subalpine Warbler, Western Olivaceous Warbler and Common Chiffchaff were the commonest, but a handful of Sedge and Reed Warblers crept in as well. Notably, we caught a lot of Common Bulbuls and a trio of pigeon species: Mourning Collared Dove, Laughing Dove and Black-billed Wood Dove. The jam on the cake, so to speak, were a whole troupe of Blue-naped Mousebirds and a single African Jacana.

Mourning Collared Dove. These were everywhere, announcing themselves when they arrived in a tree with a rattly kroo-oo-oo.

Subalpine Warbler - a young bird. These were easier when they were just one species instead of three.

Same bird, just from behind. Tail completely worn to rags.

Pin-tailed Whydah with its comic relief nose on early

African Jacana - aren't those toes great?

Northern Red Bishop. No, really.

This one's an adult - and with more confidence a Western - Subalpine.

Black-billed Wood-Dove

Red-billed Firefinches. Male on the left, female looking exasperated.

Blue-naped Mousebird

Again, the down-time hours were a good excuse to get out and find some other wildlife. The surroundings were less open and easy than round Diadiam III, but there was a riverside track running south - and north - between the narrow strip of aquatic vegetation and the neighbouring farmland. So, there were a few butterflies and distinctly more dragonflies than our previous base (odd, the latter, as the habitat really didn't seem to be more varied; quite the reverse).

Mystery damselfly. Not Ischnura senegalensis, the blue taillight is on s.8 & 9, rather than just 8 and the thorax is blue. Annoyingly, I got no photo from the side.

Sunning (!) ...

...aaah, Little Bee-eater. Why the need to sunbathe in near 30 degrees heat I'm not sure.

Male Pied-spot Hemistigma albipunctum. Quite the beast.

Common Citril Ceriagrion glabrum, I think. These were fairly easy to find

Looks very much like Truxalis nasuta...

Male Pintail Acisoma sp.

Carpenter bee!

Small, yet fine, moth. Maybe Aporodes?

Trithemis annulata - Violet Dropwing, a species spreading fast northwards through Europe now

A relative - this one seems to be Blue Basker,Urothemis edwardsii

This fine skink was basking near the lodge

and these tracks betrayed the presence of a Nile Monitor in the adjacent ditch.

Western Plantain-eater. Without plantain.

These large agamas were easy to find in the lodge garden

Lampsar was quite a step up in comfort from Diadiam III. There was a dining area on pontoons on the river, which doubled as our ringing station, and we were served three-course meals (though the main was still often fish and rice). There was hibiscus or baobab juice at breakfast time - very much appreciated - and the bathrooms were a little less quirky than the previous accommodation. At least, there was hot water for showering and toilets which flushed without incident... We even had company at meals!

Fish. With rice and spicy veg (ages since I've had okra - a nice treat)

Yeah, so, you've got fish. Where's mine?

Incidental net-botherer

Then, if a cat can join you at table, why not a goat?

This was an unexpected treat in the net one evening!

The river was clearly a conduit for all sorts of birds too. White-faced Whistling Ducks were often loafing on the water and there were always Moorhens and Swamphens picking around the fringes of the reeds on the opposite side. An African Fish Eagle put in occasional appearances, and Whiskered Terns were ever-present. Add in Pied and Malachite Kingfishers, various cormorants and herons and the inevitable Spur-winged Lapwings, and it made for a busy place. And, of course, the opposite bank appeared to be a major weaver roost - hundreds, if not thousands on a daily basis tazzing across the river from the safe reedbed roost to the food on our bank.

Whiskered Tern on patrol

African Fish-eagle also on patrol

Nothing to do with the river, but a good-looker. African Grey Woodpecker

And, goodnight.

Wetland at Diadiam III...

...with the inevitable rubbish

As I mentioned in the previous post, it was instructive to be handling Palearctic migrants in their winter quarters - and to see just what sort of habitat 'our' birds use while we're shivering in the fog back at Lake C. The wetland area was obviously well-inhabited by waders, many of which pass through in varying numbers each spring and autumn here in S. Germany: Ruff, Wood Sandpiper, Greenshank, Little Stint, Curlew Sandpiper. There were also piles of Yellow Wagtails of varying flavour - flava, iberiae and flavissima for certain - other varieties may have been available. White Wagtails (maybe some of the Icelandic birds which pass through Slapton? Maybe Scandinavians?) weren't rare and we found a few Sedge, Reed and Grasshopper Warblers in the nets too.

Starter for 10: a Western Olivaceous Warbler. For a couple of weeks in January, I had my ear in to the song. Doubt that will last, sadly.

A nice male flava Yellow Wagtail.

This is the ecotone between wet Typha swamp and dry thorn scrub. A few metres of grazed grass, a handful of palms and a lot of Giant Milkweed... From the number of old thorn fences, the edge here is (was?) cultivated but there were no crops in there at present.

Typical thorn scrub around Diadiam III. Giant Milkweed, Mesquite and Simple-leaved Greenthorn

Slightly further from the influence of the wetland, the milkweed disappears and the ground cover becomes a sparse dead-grass layer with heavily-grazed thorn. Various Vachellia thorn species - all showing a clear browse line at cattle/donkey height cast surprisingly effective shade

This is where many passerines lurk. The difficulty is just finding them.

The thorn scrub was also used, but birds were way less abundant in general. There didn't appear to be all that many trees and shrubs in flower or fruit (though appearances were perhaps a little deceptive: certain trees were fruiting hard) and perhaps the general heat and dryness of the scrub meant that there just wasn't enough food around to support more insectivores. Familiar species like Common Redstart and Common Whitethroat were scattered around, and there were lots of Common Chiffchaffs - plenty of them already tuning up for the European spring. For me, there was a bit of spice in the presence of lots of Western Olivaceous and Subalpine Warblers (western - iberiae - were all we could identify with any degree of certainty) and a smattering of Western Bonelli's Warblers, along with the occasional Woodchat Shrike. The bulk birds in the scrub were, however, afrotropical residents. Lots of Mourning Collared Dove and Laughing Dove, and everywhere little groups of Namaqua Dove; small groups of Western Red-billed Hornbills; hordes of Sudan Golden Sparrows - and then in amongst them always some Red-billed Queleas, a scatter of Yellow-crowned Bishops, Black-headed and Little Weavers (and what appeared to be Vitelline Masked Weavers occasionally)... Look closely under the trees and you'll probably find the occasional Senegal Thick-knee or Long-tailed Nightjar snoozing away the heat of the day.

Namaqua Dove. A midget pigeon, with body size not much more than a sparrow

Long-tailed Nightjar pretending to be a branch on the ground

Common Bulbul trying to keep cool

Chestnut-bellied Starling being cool

Senegal Coucal - the epitome of cool.

A Grey-backed Camaroptera. The name is longer than the bird.

For a couple of nights at Diadiam III there was a tour group using the accommodation: they were well-equipped to see what additional wildlife they could lure in with a hefty UV light against a white sheet overnight. Some of the intrepid ringers weren't about to pass up the chance to nose around too, so had a good butchers' at the sheet in the early evening darkness. And there was plenty to admire, just not necessarily what was expected. Moths were sparse. A couple of Bedstraw and Striped Hawkmoths plus on Convolvulus Hawk were more or less the sum of the big-and-spectacular, and the small and less-spectacular were not much more diverse. But the beetles. Oh my... The second evening lamping brought the most astonishing numbers of water beetles and rove beetles to the sheet. There were so many on and around the sheet, that it became ever so slightly freaky to stand there with beetles crawling all over you. Between the beetles there were plenty of crickets, a few hefty cockroaches and the occasional damselfly. Not shabby.