Wes Hobarth
Monday 27th February 2006, 20:22
Two hapless hours searching the hammock and Australian Pines had proved fruitless. The book said, “they are easy to find and exceptionally tame here”. It was 80 plus degrees F with 100 per cent humidity and nearly time to leave for a long drive north to a beautiful airport for the journey home and I was shagged. As I wiped my dripping brow with an already soaked Hanky, L yelped, “Up there on the dead the tree at the back”. Galvanised, the legs of the Gitzo pod were opened and the objective of the 62mm scope (yep my new Red L travelling jobby) was trained on aforesaid spot. At last, there were a pair of the sought after buggers. Pileated Woodpeckers preening away for all to see. What a finish. We were at the eastern end of Periwinkle Way at Lighthouse Park on Sanibel Island, Florida.
It was time to go. And I had to go most urgently. A gippy tummy was giving me the Big Grits. I headed off for a liquid Shat, while N and L took the opposite loop back to the car park. I don’t normally do Shats in public Bogs but on this and earlier occasions in the week I had had no choice. At least the Bogs are pristine in America and there is always plenty of paper to wipe away one’s discomfort. Whilst I was relieving myself of a former, all to recent intake of solids that my body had liquidised and rejected without so much as a by your leave to my Amygdalla (the emotional fire alarm part of the brain), N and L got six more, one as close as ten feet. A sanguine expression crossed my fevered brow as I learnt of this and slid behind the wheel of the Cadillac Deville to take them back to Tampa for a flight that was to be as fraught and stressful as the one out just a few days before…….
****
It began, as these things do at Gatport Airwick (North Terminal) early one morning. We were bound for Tampa via a changeover at Atlanta. All augered well as we took off no more than an hour after schedule. At Atlanta things began to go downhill. Slow baggage retrieval plus new security arrangements from GW Bush’s new organisation T.S.A (Transportation Security Agency), great uniforms, no purpose, other than to hinder legal travellers, fcuked us for our connection. Beleaguered between terminals we hithered and thithered via tram like things to attempt to make a connective flight. Eventually we somehow made it. Luggage went before us and was left much unattended in a public area. I found it by luck. Having now gone 17 hours without a smoke I have one before we board the courtesy bus to the car rental station.
Dazed and spaced from the journey, gullibly, we allow the Hispanic Alamo rental man to easily convince us that for a very special deal we can upgrade our Compact to a Limo for a measly extra 15 dollars a day. So that is how we ended up with the Caddy. There are more knobs and buttons than a qwerty keyboard. Even the rear view mirror has got eight buttons on it. One I work out gives you a head up compass. Finally we work out how to switch the engine on and are on our way.
We are headed for Longboat Key on the Gulf coast about an hour and a half away. The road layouts are confusing. If you ever attempt this journey always stick to the middle lane. Exits happen without notice both to the right and left. Darkness had long descended by the time we arrived at our resort complex. I needed a drink. I had been on orange juice and mineral water for the best part of twenty-four hours now. We checked in and moved in to our home for the next five days. A self-catering suite comprising two rooms, one and a half bathrooms and a balcony. I opened a bottle of duty free and took a quick shot of scotch. Feeling much better I accompanied N and L to the resort Deli. Some life giving essentials were purchased.
Having eaten and consumed some more duty free it was time for bed. Tomorrow N and L were off to a five day, half day, each day conference, which meant they had the afternoons free and I had all day free. I was only along for the ride and would be burning the candle at neither end. Tomorrow the Birding would begin.
****
As the 24th of February dawns I slumber while N and L get up at 6.30 for an
hours Birding before the conference begins. I rise about 8.30 and after a leisurely breakfast of Florida Orange juice, Kentucky ham, Rye toast, Melon, Strawberries and Mango I set off for the beach. I am hit by a demanding collection of Larids, in a stationery cluster unfazed by the humanoids walking about. Caspian, Royal, Roseate, Sandwich and Forster’s Terns. Their collective co-habitation makes ID dead easy. Intermingled are also Laughing and Ring-billed Gulls, Grey Plover, Dunlin and Sanderling. Great and Snowy Egret are also common, as are a number of different herons. The end of the day produced a list of 36 species that we had all enjoyed. No Lifer’s as yet. Just some bloody good views. For LBJ’s Palm Warbler and American Pipit go without saying.
In the evening we drove a few miles south to somewhere known locally as the Circle. A low-rise shopping and restaurant event. N and L discovered a female clothing outlet called Chico’s where they spent the best part of a thousand dollars between them. So two hours later we look for an eatery. Feeling aggrieved I divert on the way to a Tabac, where I persuade N to buy me a Lighter as compensation for the time spent in the “Ladies”.
We end up in a street Café, N has half a side of ribs, L some veggie shite and me an open Grouper Sandwich. About 15 dollars a head including Coke and crap Beer known locally as Bud.
A drive back is followed by some deep discussion about the learning inculcation N and L have encountered at the conference. I just get destructively pissed on the duty free and wait for the next day.
****
The beach this morning yielded common and Least Tern, the latter a life tick. Monk Parakeet, another Lifer, was flying around the hotel. In the afternoon we drove inland to the Myakka River State Park. The 28,875 acres of extensive oak/palm woodlands, shallow marshes and lakes was to prove an excellent Birding spot, but oddly the first thing I came across was an Armadillo. This was followed by American Robin and Grey Catbird, then a Racoon crossed our path. Driving a bit further to one of the lakes netted the full-whack of Herons and Egrets. Wood and Mottled Duck were to prove to be the only Wildfowl available. Lesser Yellowlegs and Least Sand were also added to the list along with the endangered Wood Stork. But the real stunners for all of us were Sandhill Crane, Bald Eagle and a pair of early Swallow-tailed Kites. The Eagle flew over our heads at no more than twenty feet away. The power of its flight was awesome. The Park was so good we stayed until dark in the hope we might get some Owls, but this was not to be.
On the way back we stopped in the Circle again and tried a different restaurant and had a very indifferent meal, despite being twice the price of last night’s that was OK but nothing to write home about. Eating out was going to be my biggest disappointment in the US of A. I had formed an apocryphal assumption that both quality and quantity came relatively cheap. Not so. Quality was never there and quantity varied greatly irrespective of price. On the other hand, Motor spirit comes dirt-cheap and fulfils its purpose. A Gallon is less than the price of a ******* Litre in the UK.
Anyway the next afternoon we set off for Myakka again, only to get stuck in a traffic jam yards from the Hotel. After twenty minutes of no movement we did a U-Turn and headed north to a beach area on the next Key, called unusually Anna Maria Island. Why Island and not Key?
Along with the usual Larids and Gulls were dozens of Black Skimmers just loafing on the beach. They were so unperturbed by our and other humans around that you could get within 15 feet of them. I actually had to back-off to do some Digiscoping. In the trees by the car park a Downy Woodpecker obliged. Oh yes, and Dolphins were swimming close inshore, sorry, but I don’t know the species.
That evening we did a mile-and a half torch light hike to a recommended fish restaurant where our favoured Starter was, guess what, Alligator Tails. I mean you can’t not can you? For the Entrée we did draw the line at Dolphin (not Flipper). I had sautéed Grouper, Snapper, Scallops, Oysters and Shrimps with French Fries. This was the best meal I had in America, despite the fact the Yanks can’t do chips AND it was 50 dollars a head.
Tomorrow we are off to a prime site for Black-Bellied Whistling Ducks
****
Black-Bellied Whistling Ducks are thought to have dispersed from Mexico or Texas and are in the midst of colonising the Florida peninsula. The Ducks are nocturnal foragers and spend the day resting around ponds. We are at one of the best recommended sites. It is an eerie place. As flat and treeless as North Norfolk but thirty thousand times the size. We are talking big and empty, apart from the strange metallic shells of factories that haunt the landscape. Razor wire fences abound. You can only Bird from the road. Security Police in armoured trucks slow down as they pass our parked vehicle. Is this where America manufactures weapons of Mass Destruction? It feels like it. It goes by the name of Ackerman Park.
You could barely see it from the surface, though there were plenty of clues to tell you there were more than moles working away under the soil: the endless supply of trucks moving along the connecting roads, the bare-bricked ventilating shafts set in the middle of vacant fields. If you put your head down one of those dark, plummeting holes you could hear the sound of hard-pressed men shouting and grunting behind the grind and clank of cogs and wheels, sniff the dank smell of oil and earth and, yes, the wet slippery scent of fear rising out. Then you might know that beneath the buttercups and tufts of couch grass lay a large and complex structure.
But did we see the Ducks? Nope. We did get Tree swallow, Lesser Scaup and bloody Mallard though.
That night we stopped at an unlicensed Chinese Road House to eat. I had to drink Coke!
****
The weather absolutely pissed down while we were in the Chinese. The meal itself was an aberrant experience. It was both cheap and almost edible. The Clientele were odd. Definitely of a different genetic cast than what we had been exposed to in the lush areas we had previously eaten. But in neither environment were they even remotely attractive. Americans are darned ugly. Well in Florida anyway. I saw one decent arse the whole time I was there. And that was on a bloke!
But today the conference ends and we travel south to Sanibel for the week-end.
A longish drive ensues and we stop off part way to re-fuel on solids. A café where I indulge in the first and only Burger of the trip that will begin my Gippy-tummy is consumed.
A further stop is made at Lakes County Park, near Fort Myers. All the regulars plus a sparrow sp., Brown Creeper and Hairy Woodpecker are observed.
As darkness falls we check in to a hotel on Sanibel Island.
It is now Saturday and it is to be a ”Ding” Darling day. This famous Wildlife Refuge comprises 6000 acres of hammocks, mangrove forests, mosquito-control impoundments and coastal estuaries and is one of the most-visited birding spots in Florida. The route through the park is a one-way five mile drive with diversionary footpath trails along the way. Low tide is the best time to visit and as high tide today is 2.00pm we get there for the park opening at 9.00am.
Four hours excellent birding is to follow with new highlights including White Pelican, Roseate Spoonbills, Snowy and semi palmated Plovers, Short-Billed Dowitcher and both Red-Tailed and Red-Shouldered Hawks. As ever, the birds are very confiding and views are fantastic. By one ‘o clock the shore birds have all but disappeared with the rising tide so we head out of the park to explore Captiva Island to the north and find some lunch. About four we returned to traverse the park once more but I don’t think we saw anything new.
Sunday morning found us at the Bailey Tract a small separate part of the refuge. The area contains thickets, marshes and ponds all reached by short trails. It was rather quiet but we did add Northern Flicker to our Woodpecker count and N got a Brewer’s Blackbird. L and I dipped on this. Oh and yes also Blue-grey Gnatcatcher and Eastern Phoebe were clocked.
It is now time to head for Lighthouse Point which is where we came into this tale. Apart from the Pileated Woodie, this site was also good for the addition of Hermit Thrush, Yellow-throated Warbler, Magnificent Frigatebird and more Dolphins.
Time now to return to the Tampa area for an overnight stay before the flight back. On the way we stop off at Cape Coral, a vast urban development where Burrowing Owls are supposed to be found. Not any longer, the place has clearly been developed even more since when our “Where to watch” guide was written. But we did have the bonus of Loggerhead Shrikes on the telephone wires.
Because of our experience on the flight out we have been concerned that our connecting flight back via Cincinnati has a window of only sixty nine minutes. Attempts to swap to an earlier flight from Tampa have proved fruitless. At one point it looked as though we may be able to get an earlier flight at the cost of a lot of Dollars, but in the end that plane was overbooked anyway. Just as well as it turned out.
Unlike the Journey in our luggage should go straight through and our inbound and outbound flights at Cincinnati are from the same terminal and we don’t have to repeat the double security fiasco departing from the States. Looking good and even better as the Tampa flight is only ten minutes late taking off. We get to the gate for the Gatwick flight hassle free with oodles of minutes spare only to learn there is a maintenance problem. An “O” ring somewhere in the hydraulics is Fcuked and a spare which may or may not fit has to be flown in from Atlanta! Will we end up in a Hotel for the night? I hope not for the simple reason we are in summer clothes and used to Temperatures in the Eighties. Outside the terminal it is snowbound and 20 degrees F (that’s F for ******* Freezing).
In the event the “O” ring fits and we take off a mere five hours late to land in a murky, drizzly Gatwick just after the morning M25 rush-hours have passed. A bit of a winner really.
So rounding off with round numbers, the species count was 110 and the Lifer’s 20
The End
But fear not Wes will be back.
It was time to go. And I had to go most urgently. A gippy tummy was giving me the Big Grits. I headed off for a liquid Shat, while N and L took the opposite loop back to the car park. I don’t normally do Shats in public Bogs but on this and earlier occasions in the week I had had no choice. At least the Bogs are pristine in America and there is always plenty of paper to wipe away one’s discomfort. Whilst I was relieving myself of a former, all to recent intake of solids that my body had liquidised and rejected without so much as a by your leave to my Amygdalla (the emotional fire alarm part of the brain), N and L got six more, one as close as ten feet. A sanguine expression crossed my fevered brow as I learnt of this and slid behind the wheel of the Cadillac Deville to take them back to Tampa for a flight that was to be as fraught and stressful as the one out just a few days before…….
****
It began, as these things do at Gatport Airwick (North Terminal) early one morning. We were bound for Tampa via a changeover at Atlanta. All augered well as we took off no more than an hour after schedule. At Atlanta things began to go downhill. Slow baggage retrieval plus new security arrangements from GW Bush’s new organisation T.S.A (Transportation Security Agency), great uniforms, no purpose, other than to hinder legal travellers, fcuked us for our connection. Beleaguered between terminals we hithered and thithered via tram like things to attempt to make a connective flight. Eventually we somehow made it. Luggage went before us and was left much unattended in a public area. I found it by luck. Having now gone 17 hours without a smoke I have one before we board the courtesy bus to the car rental station.
Dazed and spaced from the journey, gullibly, we allow the Hispanic Alamo rental man to easily convince us that for a very special deal we can upgrade our Compact to a Limo for a measly extra 15 dollars a day. So that is how we ended up with the Caddy. There are more knobs and buttons than a qwerty keyboard. Even the rear view mirror has got eight buttons on it. One I work out gives you a head up compass. Finally we work out how to switch the engine on and are on our way.
We are headed for Longboat Key on the Gulf coast about an hour and a half away. The road layouts are confusing. If you ever attempt this journey always stick to the middle lane. Exits happen without notice both to the right and left. Darkness had long descended by the time we arrived at our resort complex. I needed a drink. I had been on orange juice and mineral water for the best part of twenty-four hours now. We checked in and moved in to our home for the next five days. A self-catering suite comprising two rooms, one and a half bathrooms and a balcony. I opened a bottle of duty free and took a quick shot of scotch. Feeling much better I accompanied N and L to the resort Deli. Some life giving essentials were purchased.
Having eaten and consumed some more duty free it was time for bed. Tomorrow N and L were off to a five day, half day, each day conference, which meant they had the afternoons free and I had all day free. I was only along for the ride and would be burning the candle at neither end. Tomorrow the Birding would begin.
****
As the 24th of February dawns I slumber while N and L get up at 6.30 for an
hours Birding before the conference begins. I rise about 8.30 and after a leisurely breakfast of Florida Orange juice, Kentucky ham, Rye toast, Melon, Strawberries and Mango I set off for the beach. I am hit by a demanding collection of Larids, in a stationery cluster unfazed by the humanoids walking about. Caspian, Royal, Roseate, Sandwich and Forster’s Terns. Their collective co-habitation makes ID dead easy. Intermingled are also Laughing and Ring-billed Gulls, Grey Plover, Dunlin and Sanderling. Great and Snowy Egret are also common, as are a number of different herons. The end of the day produced a list of 36 species that we had all enjoyed. No Lifer’s as yet. Just some bloody good views. For LBJ’s Palm Warbler and American Pipit go without saying.
In the evening we drove a few miles south to somewhere known locally as the Circle. A low-rise shopping and restaurant event. N and L discovered a female clothing outlet called Chico’s where they spent the best part of a thousand dollars between them. So two hours later we look for an eatery. Feeling aggrieved I divert on the way to a Tabac, where I persuade N to buy me a Lighter as compensation for the time spent in the “Ladies”.
We end up in a street Café, N has half a side of ribs, L some veggie shite and me an open Grouper Sandwich. About 15 dollars a head including Coke and crap Beer known locally as Bud.
A drive back is followed by some deep discussion about the learning inculcation N and L have encountered at the conference. I just get destructively pissed on the duty free and wait for the next day.
****
The beach this morning yielded common and Least Tern, the latter a life tick. Monk Parakeet, another Lifer, was flying around the hotel. In the afternoon we drove inland to the Myakka River State Park. The 28,875 acres of extensive oak/palm woodlands, shallow marshes and lakes was to prove an excellent Birding spot, but oddly the first thing I came across was an Armadillo. This was followed by American Robin and Grey Catbird, then a Racoon crossed our path. Driving a bit further to one of the lakes netted the full-whack of Herons and Egrets. Wood and Mottled Duck were to prove to be the only Wildfowl available. Lesser Yellowlegs and Least Sand were also added to the list along with the endangered Wood Stork. But the real stunners for all of us were Sandhill Crane, Bald Eagle and a pair of early Swallow-tailed Kites. The Eagle flew over our heads at no more than twenty feet away. The power of its flight was awesome. The Park was so good we stayed until dark in the hope we might get some Owls, but this was not to be.
On the way back we stopped in the Circle again and tried a different restaurant and had a very indifferent meal, despite being twice the price of last night’s that was OK but nothing to write home about. Eating out was going to be my biggest disappointment in the US of A. I had formed an apocryphal assumption that both quality and quantity came relatively cheap. Not so. Quality was never there and quantity varied greatly irrespective of price. On the other hand, Motor spirit comes dirt-cheap and fulfils its purpose. A Gallon is less than the price of a ******* Litre in the UK.
Anyway the next afternoon we set off for Myakka again, only to get stuck in a traffic jam yards from the Hotel. After twenty minutes of no movement we did a U-Turn and headed north to a beach area on the next Key, called unusually Anna Maria Island. Why Island and not Key?
Along with the usual Larids and Gulls were dozens of Black Skimmers just loafing on the beach. They were so unperturbed by our and other humans around that you could get within 15 feet of them. I actually had to back-off to do some Digiscoping. In the trees by the car park a Downy Woodpecker obliged. Oh yes, and Dolphins were swimming close inshore, sorry, but I don’t know the species.
That evening we did a mile-and a half torch light hike to a recommended fish restaurant where our favoured Starter was, guess what, Alligator Tails. I mean you can’t not can you? For the Entrée we did draw the line at Dolphin (not Flipper). I had sautéed Grouper, Snapper, Scallops, Oysters and Shrimps with French Fries. This was the best meal I had in America, despite the fact the Yanks can’t do chips AND it was 50 dollars a head.
Tomorrow we are off to a prime site for Black-Bellied Whistling Ducks
****
Black-Bellied Whistling Ducks are thought to have dispersed from Mexico or Texas and are in the midst of colonising the Florida peninsula. The Ducks are nocturnal foragers and spend the day resting around ponds. We are at one of the best recommended sites. It is an eerie place. As flat and treeless as North Norfolk but thirty thousand times the size. We are talking big and empty, apart from the strange metallic shells of factories that haunt the landscape. Razor wire fences abound. You can only Bird from the road. Security Police in armoured trucks slow down as they pass our parked vehicle. Is this where America manufactures weapons of Mass Destruction? It feels like it. It goes by the name of Ackerman Park.
You could barely see it from the surface, though there were plenty of clues to tell you there were more than moles working away under the soil: the endless supply of trucks moving along the connecting roads, the bare-bricked ventilating shafts set in the middle of vacant fields. If you put your head down one of those dark, plummeting holes you could hear the sound of hard-pressed men shouting and grunting behind the grind and clank of cogs and wheels, sniff the dank smell of oil and earth and, yes, the wet slippery scent of fear rising out. Then you might know that beneath the buttercups and tufts of couch grass lay a large and complex structure.
But did we see the Ducks? Nope. We did get Tree swallow, Lesser Scaup and bloody Mallard though.
That night we stopped at an unlicensed Chinese Road House to eat. I had to drink Coke!
****
The weather absolutely pissed down while we were in the Chinese. The meal itself was an aberrant experience. It was both cheap and almost edible. The Clientele were odd. Definitely of a different genetic cast than what we had been exposed to in the lush areas we had previously eaten. But in neither environment were they even remotely attractive. Americans are darned ugly. Well in Florida anyway. I saw one decent arse the whole time I was there. And that was on a bloke!
But today the conference ends and we travel south to Sanibel for the week-end.
A longish drive ensues and we stop off part way to re-fuel on solids. A café where I indulge in the first and only Burger of the trip that will begin my Gippy-tummy is consumed.
A further stop is made at Lakes County Park, near Fort Myers. All the regulars plus a sparrow sp., Brown Creeper and Hairy Woodpecker are observed.
As darkness falls we check in to a hotel on Sanibel Island.
It is now Saturday and it is to be a ”Ding” Darling day. This famous Wildlife Refuge comprises 6000 acres of hammocks, mangrove forests, mosquito-control impoundments and coastal estuaries and is one of the most-visited birding spots in Florida. The route through the park is a one-way five mile drive with diversionary footpath trails along the way. Low tide is the best time to visit and as high tide today is 2.00pm we get there for the park opening at 9.00am.
Four hours excellent birding is to follow with new highlights including White Pelican, Roseate Spoonbills, Snowy and semi palmated Plovers, Short-Billed Dowitcher and both Red-Tailed and Red-Shouldered Hawks. As ever, the birds are very confiding and views are fantastic. By one ‘o clock the shore birds have all but disappeared with the rising tide so we head out of the park to explore Captiva Island to the north and find some lunch. About four we returned to traverse the park once more but I don’t think we saw anything new.
Sunday morning found us at the Bailey Tract a small separate part of the refuge. The area contains thickets, marshes and ponds all reached by short trails. It was rather quiet but we did add Northern Flicker to our Woodpecker count and N got a Brewer’s Blackbird. L and I dipped on this. Oh and yes also Blue-grey Gnatcatcher and Eastern Phoebe were clocked.
It is now time to head for Lighthouse Point which is where we came into this tale. Apart from the Pileated Woodie, this site was also good for the addition of Hermit Thrush, Yellow-throated Warbler, Magnificent Frigatebird and more Dolphins.
Time now to return to the Tampa area for an overnight stay before the flight back. On the way we stop off at Cape Coral, a vast urban development where Burrowing Owls are supposed to be found. Not any longer, the place has clearly been developed even more since when our “Where to watch” guide was written. But we did have the bonus of Loggerhead Shrikes on the telephone wires.
Because of our experience on the flight out we have been concerned that our connecting flight back via Cincinnati has a window of only sixty nine minutes. Attempts to swap to an earlier flight from Tampa have proved fruitless. At one point it looked as though we may be able to get an earlier flight at the cost of a lot of Dollars, but in the end that plane was overbooked anyway. Just as well as it turned out.
Unlike the Journey in our luggage should go straight through and our inbound and outbound flights at Cincinnati are from the same terminal and we don’t have to repeat the double security fiasco departing from the States. Looking good and even better as the Tampa flight is only ten minutes late taking off. We get to the gate for the Gatwick flight hassle free with oodles of minutes spare only to learn there is a maintenance problem. An “O” ring somewhere in the hydraulics is Fcuked and a spare which may or may not fit has to be flown in from Atlanta! Will we end up in a Hotel for the night? I hope not for the simple reason we are in summer clothes and used to Temperatures in the Eighties. Outside the terminal it is snowbound and 20 degrees F (that’s F for ******* Freezing).
In the event the “O” ring fits and we take off a mere five hours late to land in a murky, drizzly Gatwick just after the morning M25 rush-hours have passed. A bit of a winner really.
So rounding off with round numbers, the species count was 110 and the Lifer’s 20
The End
But fear not Wes will be back.