HONIARA, SOLOMON ISLANDS — It’s a cool, gray morning on the ridge overlooking Honiara. Common Mynas, introduced from Asia, are screeching loudly as always. Sunbirds twitter in the frangipanis, and Coconut Lorikeets zip past from time to time.

Birding is tough in the Solomon Islands. Only a few very common, widespread species venture into the towns and villages. Most of these are colorful, or at least charismatic, but the country’s real jewels — the scarce endemics — prefer to stay in the more densely forested areas, which are largely inacessible without a lot of effort.

I was happy to discover that my American host is a birder (serendipity!), and we made a couple of runs up Mount Austen and visited a private property along the coast. These trips were rewarding, with Mount Austen yielding several very nice birds like Buff-headed Coucal (awesome!), Chestnut-bellied Monarch, Claret-breasted Fruit Dove, and the unbelievably minuscule Emerald Pygmy Parrot.

So from my lists for Guadalcanal and Malaita, you can see that we got some excellent birds, but have really only scratched the surface in this remote and fascinating corner of the world.

That seems to be the story of my life though — and now it’s on to Vanuatu!

HONIARA, SOLOMON ISLANDS — I’m in the Solomon Islands now, hoping desperately to have time for some birding before I leave this week. Last month, I was in Australia, and I’ve finally gotten some photos posted.

I started off in Darwin, where I had a great time birding with fellow Birdstacker Fregata and her husband. The couple took me to several sites near Darwin, including Fogg Dam and Charles Darwin National Park.

For more on the trip (which also featured jacanas, Scrubfowl, Magpie Geese, egrets, cockatoos, and Wedge-tailed Eagles), check out Fregata’s Fogg Dam trip list.

More bird, animal, and plant photos are available in my Top End gallery.

From Alice Springs, I flew to Melbourne, where it’s a cold and periodically drizzly winter. I explored the Melbourne suburb where I was staying, and I went birding with John O’Malley of Geelong, who helped me find Rufous Bristlebird, Hooded Dotterel, and many other excellent birds.

I’ll be back in Australia later this month and hope to get a chance to explore even more of that fascinating and very birdy continent. But first, I need to find some birds in the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu.

KANGAROO GROUND, AUSTRALIA — I never could have imagined that I would develop an antagonistic relationship with a Kagu. But apparently, anything is possible in New Caledonia.

There I was: hungry, tired from miles of walking, dripping wet, and worried about camping for three days in the rain. As I sloshed back into my campsite, I heard a harsh, unpleasant hiss. Kagus. As I neared the picnic shelter, he hissed again.

I was in no mood to take that sort of cheek, not even from a Kagu, and I muttered something that would only sound silly if I repeated it here.

Next thing I knew, the Kagu had run around and come up onto the picnic table, just inches from my baggage. Like an inspection. And when I changed my clothes, I felt like he and his mate were watching.

There were other birds too — the weird and brilliant Horned Parakeets, the colorful myzomelas, the lovely Barred Honeyeaters. Deep, powerful hooting was often the only clue to the presence of Goliath Imperial Pigeons, but I managed to see three of them — shockingly huge pigeons, the size of a male Red-tailed Hawk.

And on my last morning, when I’d almost given up hope, there was the Crow Honeyeater rushing past my face and slipping through the brush — a brief but satisfying encounter with one of the world’s rarest birds.

You can read about each of the species I encountered in more detail on my New Caledonia list (change to report view to see notes and details).

There are dozens more photos of birds, plants, etc., in the photo gallery. There are photos of the Melanesian Cuckooshrike and the endemic Yellow-bellied Robin, plus more Kagu shots. There are also lots of unidentified plants, so if you’re botanically inclined, perhaps you can help put names on a few shots.

New Caledonia logistics

New Caledonia does not receive the volume of birders that some other places do, and information (at least, information in English) is a bit sparse. Here’s what I learned; perhaps it will be helpful.

Two main points:

1. Rent a car, rent a car, rent a car!
2. New Caledonia is tough to do on a shoestring budget.

There is public transport in New Caledonia, but it can be difficult to use (e.g., once-a-day runs, no runs on Sunday), and strikes sometimes shut things down. Also, buses don’t go to all of the places birders want to go (so I missed Mont Khogi, which was probably my best shot at Cloven-feathered Dove). You really need your own transport to have the freedom of movement that birders require.

New Caledonia is part of France. It’s an expensive country to eat, sleep, and travel in. If you try to do it cheap, you’ll be eating hard biscuits and tinned meats and camping in the rain, as I did. French is the language of communication. I got by with a small amount of French and could sometimes use English. English is taught in schools, so some people can speak reasonable amounts.

Be prepared to deal with heavy rainfall, and bring warm clothes if you’re going in the winter.

Rivière Bleue

This is the place to see Kagus and Crow Honeyeaters. Kagus are easy; Crow Honeyeaters are hard. On my best day, I had approximately 10 Kagus. I birded mainly between Pont Germain and Le Grand Kaori, walking the road and the trails. This is the humid forest, and this is where you can find most of the species of interest. Kagus are possible all along the road. I found Crow Honeyeater at the Grand Kaori platform.

You can camp at Pont Germain. This gives you a shot at hearing the Kagus duetting early in the morning. Whatever you do, don’t rush. Take time to experience the birds. Camping for a night or two is a good way to do that.

There is no drinking water available at the campsite. There is a tap, but the sign says that it has not been treated. It may be that boiling that water would be safe, but I didn’t have anyone to ask, so I decided not to risk it. I collected rainwater when I ran out of bottled water. I would have brought more bottles, but I had read some old information saying potable water was available.

Which raises a good point — don’t rely on old information. Thing change regularly, so always check. Don’t rely on a trip report from 1999 or, for that matter, from 2008.

Park access is one thing that has changed in recent years. You can drive into the park up to Pont Perignon (a bridge — “pont” is bridge in French), which is closed to vehicular traffic. To get to the good birding areas, you park at Pont Perignon, walk across the bridge, and take a park shuttle deeper into the park. You have to book your shuttle rides in and out when you check in at the park entrance.

The distances are big — 10-15 kilometers between points, so you do need a car and the shuttle to get around, unless you want to spend all day hiking. Once you get to Pont Germain or Le Grand Kaori, you can easily walk the 2 or 2.5 kilometers between the two, and all along the road is good birding. The only vehicular traffic permitted there is the official park shuttle, though there are a few cyclists. This makes it safe and quiet. For that reason, it seems that Pont Perignon will remain closed to vehicles indefinitely. That’s good for the birds, and it’s good for the birders, if you plan ahead to overcome the logistical hurdles.

Two other complications: First, the park stops admitting visitors at 2 p.m. Second, the park is closed on Mondays. This means that you can’t camp there Sunday night or Monday night. Across the highway from the park entrance road is a camping area called Les Bois du Sud (The Southern Woods), where you can camp for a fee. Again, you’d need a car to get there easily.

The local Birdlife International affiliate, Société Calédonienne d’Ornithologie, can provide advice and information, and they should have people who can correspond in English.

KUPANG, INDONESIA –

DARWIN, AUSTRALIA — Asia is not a place through which one should hurry. But with little choice in the matter, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. My arrival in Japan on 29 April marked the sixth continent (if you subscribe to the seven-continent model) on which I’ve had the pleasure to bird.

Good birds in Japan, Thailand, and Singapore over the following days put me close to another important milestone: I’m now less than 20 species away from having seen 1000 life birds. (See my life list). With any luck, I’ll break 1000 on Timor, but if not there, then certainly in New Caledonia later this month.

For more photos, be sure to see the photo gallery.

In Singapore, as in Japan, I had a few hours between flights. I took a boat to Ubin Island, where in a couple of hours I picked up gems like Oriental Pied Hornbill and Blue-throated Bee-eater. Pink-necked Green Pigeons and Asian Glossy Starlings were also great, and White-bellied Sea Eagles never fail to impress. Here’s a list from the island.

Just before I hopped in a taxi to return to the airport, I glimpsed two hornbills over a busy street through Changi Village. Hornbills are scarce on mainland Singapore, but the Bird Ecology Study Group has some information and photos about the hornbills at Changi.

I wish I had time to share more, but I’ve got another plane to catch. More when I can!