Are You Shore?

Our discussions were intense but convivial. The presence of experts on the subject matter made it even more interesting. Going over the minute details, justifying each opinion contributed to an interesting exchange of ideas. Personally, I am of firm belief that it was Chinese. After all, it looks Chinese, smells Chinese and tastes Chinese. Finally, the conclusion was unanimous. It was indeed Chinese!

Peter Ting, Irene Dy, my wife and I were talking about the Golden Bay Fresh Seafood Restaurant where we were sharing a delightful lunch. Despite the menu items and even the decor, there was a tinge  of doubt as to its authenticity cuisine-wise. A touch of Singaporean influence was even posited.

Earlier that day we were standing on the trash-littered shores of the LPPCHEA (Las Pinas-Paranaque Critical Habitat and Ecotourism Area) wondering where the birds were. Joining us were Bong and his wife, Eve. We found the sparsity of birds rather strange inasmuch as we had better weather now than last Saturday. It was raining off and on then, sometimes quite heavily, and yet birds were aplenty especially the terns and black-crowned night herons.

The only exception this morning were the Collared Kingfishers. It was as if they have decided to hold a convention since they (and there were lots of them) seem to be everywhere. They were even bolder than usual.

It was when truckloads of student volunteers began spilling on the shore that we knew the reason for the fewer number of birds. Practicality dictated that we move somewhere far from these good intentioned people. 

Near the barge was where our fortune changed. A Grey-tailed Tattler fed on the throng of cockroach-like insects that were disturbed by the onrushing waves. 

Terns, though not as plentiful as the previous Saturday, flew close by.

We were trying to photograph yet another Tattler perfectly camouflaged among the rubbish when something bigger flew in.

"Whimbrel!" I shouted.

The very main purpose of our revisiting this place was to get more (and better) photographs of this particular species.  Nic Cabigas, a bird photographer friend of ours, posted a picture last week of this bird in Facebook. To which Desmond Allen, an expert on identifying birds, thought that it might actually be a Little Curlew - an extremely rare migrant to the Philippines. There were some who expressed doubts as to its correct identity and so it behooved us that more photographs be taken of this bird to settle the issue once and for all.

Now having a documentation of the bird in question's white rump and even a comparison in size with the smaller Tattler, it can be safely concluded that that it was indeed a Whimbrel.

Also hunting at the trashy premises was a white wading bird. I took several pictures of it since it planted  a big question mark in my mind.

As soon as I got home I posted a picture of that bird in Facebook. Comments poured in, basically saying, "are you sure?"

Our discussions were intense but convivial. The presence of experts on the subject matter made it even more interesting. Going over the minute details, justifying each opinion contributed to an interesting exchange of ideas. Personally, I am of firm belief that it was Chinese. After all, it looks Chinese, with its yellowish-green legs and feet, yellowish-green skin in front of its eyes and a tinge of yellow in its lower beak. Not only that, it hunts its prey by running in spurts with outstretched wings. 

I don't know about you, but for me, it's Chinese. Egret.

The Coast of Birding

The skies were gloriously gray. A breeze pregnant with cool precipitation blew against our determined faces. In front of us white-crested waves rushed towards the shore. Smashing against the rocks it then exploded into a thousand bits of watery sparks. The sandy beach glimmered as the waves drenched the blanket of plastics and an array of discarded footwear among the various jetsam.

This is the LPPCHEA (Las Pinas-Paranaque Critical Habitat and Ecotourism Area) or "Coastal Lagoon" as the local birders/bird photographers call it. This is an area that is in the midst of some current controversy. But that is not the subject of this story.

The story is about a bunch of intrepid people who braved the inclement weather to take photographs of the birds in this critical habitat. 

It was on that Saturday morning that I along with my wife, Cynthia, and friends Peter, Irene and Bong stood there on the shore watching a throng of flying seabirds. A slight drizzle made our photographic endeavors even more of a challenge. It was not easy capturing the image of a bird in flight when a pall of grey clouds hung in the skies and raindrops pelted our barely protected bodies.

Despite these discouraging conditions, rewards were reaped. A Grey-tailed Tattler was kind enough to pose for us when we were almost on the brink of despair.

Then a photographer's dream moment appeared when an immature Black-crowned Night Heron which was flapping its huge wings nonchalantly above the raging waves suddenly braked as it were, paused, grabbed a good-sized fish from the sea then surprisingly dropped that fish back into the churning waters. We all thought that the fish somehow slipped off the heron's grasp. Or was it that this benevolent bird was doing the catch-and-release option that fishermen sometimes do? Reviewing the photographs we took and comparing the results, we realized that the fish in question was actually a dead one floating. It turned out that this particular fish was just too big for an in-flight meal and so it went dropping back to its watery grave.

As we moved to the place where the Terns were sallying within spitting distance (not that we were spitting, you know) heavy rain fell. We scurried to our respective vehicles and decided to sit this downpour out. After about thirty minutes and the deluge not showing any sign of abating, Bong gave up and bade us farewell.

Eventually the rain stopped. We continued our tour of the coast and were soon looking at a couple of friendly Common Sandpipers.

Encouraged by this, Peter suggested we try the lagoon. I was surprised to learn that there was an actual "lagoon" in here, and that one had to go through some sort of forest to see it. Well, we did see that patch of fresh water but all we got along the way were mosquito bites with Cynthia getting the worst. 

Upon our return to the security station, Peter and Irene were whooping as they saw a Collared Kingfisher near the structure. My wife stayed in the car nursing the six swollen spots she got from those pesky mosquitoes. I stayed close to her but still with a good view of the kingfisher.

Once again the threat of a heavy downpour made us reconsider our next move. 

"It's about time we have that lunch in Chinatown that I promised you" Peter said.

To which we all agreed.