One of the unique qualities of our Africa birding trip is that we were headed to places off the beaten path, even for birders, to track down range-restricted and/or endemic subspecies. Yes, that’s right, SUB-species. A taxonomic class ranking below a full species that birders often don’t go for because it’s not going to increase their life list. Obviously our extended trip was a slow-paced, methodical process that involved seeing as many birds as possible and we were in fact targeting subspecies, just in case they get elevated to species-status someday. One of the more remote areas we were visiting included northern Zambia, a region of the country rarely visited by birders. In fact, Zambia is rarely visited by birders in general except for maybe a quick trip to tick the country’s two endemics Black-cheeked Lovebird and Chapin’s Barbet, and to see one of Africa’s best birds, African Pitta, rather easily.
Just 100km north of Kasanka is a place along the highway that a Katanga Weaver colony is known to exist. It was a bit of a drive, but we had left the national park mid-day so we could get to the colony before dusk and still have time to continue on our way to our final destination. We quickly spotted the local subspecies of Long-tailed Widowbird in the grasslands along the highway which was nice to see, and just as anticipated, when we arrived at the location given to us by Frank Willems, expert Zambian birder and guide, the Katanga Weavers were right next to the road. Unfortunately so was a group of people. Why did the weaver colony have to be right where a large group of young adult male humans were gathered? Why are there gatherings along the highway anyway? We had come specifically for this bird so we didn’t really have a choice but to stop even though we knew exactly how it was going to go. The locals really aren’t used to seeing people of our ethnicity (you know, due to Zambia being under-visited) so once they see us they usually stop what they are doing and watch our every move. And if I were in their shoes, I’d do the same thing. I’m sure it is fascinating to watch a stranger get out of their car at a random spot along the highway with a camera around their shoulders and binoculars pressed up to their eyes. Strange behavior indeed. The men ran over to us and despite smiling, saying hello, telling them we were looking for birds, and asking them to be quiet while Ross attempted sound recordings, they still proceeded to talk and interrupt our birding efforts. The recordings Ross obtained of the weavers have background chatter that we simply could not eliminate. I hate to sound rude or pessimistic, but we might have spent longer at the site if it weren’t for how annoying the people were begging us for money and gathering around us with no regard for personal space. We said our goodbyes and continued up the road to find a place to sleep for the night slightly disappointed that we couldn’t appreciate the birds more. If we could do it differently, we might have stopped 100-200m sooner, gotten out for a bit to give the guys time to run over to us, and then after they relocated, say a quick hello and drive down the road to the actual spot. You live and you learn.
It was another early morning wake up so we could drive to our next birding destination and get there at a somewhat reasonable hour. Next up on the agenda, the bensoni subspecies of Papyrus Yellow Warbler, only a stone’s throw away from the DRC border. Peter Boesman, another world travelling audio recordist that Ross keeps in touch with, had visited the area and had given Ross some information. (Unfortunately during his visit, Peter missed the target.) We were in a tiny remote village but knew that in order to see a papyrus swamp specialist, we needed to get into the papyrus swamp. We coordinated a boat at the end of a dirt road next to the swamp and ventured out into the papyrus via a small wooden canoe paddled by three men from town. We spent the next three hours tracking down two skulky birds found in these thick swamps. It took some effort, but we did connect with “Zambian” Papyrus Yellow Warbler and managed some recordings and photos. Our other target, White-winged Swamp-Warbler, eluded us and we decided to give up and head towards town for some lunch.
It might sound unusual for us to stop birding, but we were paying for the boat by the hour and it was now the middle of the day and very hot. We also noticed that the road we drove in on intersected with a bit of papyrus swamp so we wanted to at least give that a try before heading back out via canoe. We made a quick stop at the marsh on our way to lunch and within only a few minutes, Ross had found another papyrus yellow warbler! It wasn’t until after lunch and while I was still on my lunch break, that Ross connected with our final target White-winged Swamp-warbler right next to the road. It was midday, but it was still singing! Thankfully Ross, who was 200m down the road, sent someone to fetch me and I managed to get up to him and catch a glimpse of the bird! In all honesty we could have avoided that boat ride altogether and just came here, but I’m sure the locals appreciated the unexpected income! It was nice to record these very rarely documented birds. A quick Google search resulted in only one other photo for the Zambian Papyrus Yellow Warbler and not a single audio recording could be found. Fortunately we managed both! In addition to the swamp warbler, we also saw a nice family group of Anchieta’s Tchargas. A bird we had dipped in Zimbabwe and were more than happy to finally get nice looks at!
Well done
Great stories, thanks for a good read. Not fun to be mobbed by people that regard you as a celebrity, or at least a novelty. I used to think it would be amusing to be at the center of such attention, until we experienced something similar to your story. Your proposed strategy for luring them to a birdless spot 200m away is genius! Never would have thought of that.