Beetlemania

It was an invitation too good to miss. Martin Collier, Norfolk’s beetle recorder, had heard about NWT Thorpe Marshes and was keen to visit the reserve to see what he could find. Could I show him around? Writing Christmas cards was postponed and the inevitable family conversations about beetle drives and popular beat combos from Liverpool were put to one side. It was a bright December morning when I joined Martin and recording colleague Steve Lane on the marshes.

A bright December day on NWT Thorpe Marshes.

Nemostoma bimaculata, a tiny harvestman. Bimaculata means two-spotted.

Beetle records on the reserve to date have been mostly relatively big, bright species on summer flowers. Surely an icy day in December was far from promising?  How wrong that was. The key technique was a fistful of damp marsh vegetation, often from a ditch edge, shaken through a coarse mesh sieve into a white bowl. The volume of invertebrates, once you had your eye in, was remarkable. Most were tiny: beetles of various shapes, almost microscopic harvestmen, pseudoscorpions. I photographed and noted names of bigger species; a longer list will drop into my inbox when time allows.

Paederus riparius, a rove beetle from ditch edge vegetation.

A tiny pseudoscorpion, seen in a specimen tube.

Planorbarius corneus, great ramshorn snail.

The enthusiasm was contagious and the expertise broad as they dipped into ditches, too. This revealed water beetles and the mix you’d expect from in a pond-dipping session: backswimmers, water boatmen, water slaters (like an aquatic woodlouse), snails, pea mussels and various larvae. They deduced that a big pile of earth included a moles’ nest, a place for a difference mix of bugs, including female mole fleas, Britain’s biggest flea. I looked into the bowl with interest then took a step backwards.

Tussocks of cocksfoot grass on the dry banks of the River Yare produced a different mix again, dominated by spiders. Many were immatures of familiar species, like nursery web spiders. Under one bit of bark there was a cluster of harlequin ladybirds, much as you might find in a house; under another were two red-and-black false ladybirds, fungus feeders.

False ladybird Endomychus coccineus.

  

The biologist J B S Haldane, when asked about for his take on creation vs. evolution, was fond of saying that, “God has an inordinate fondness for beetles.” Martin and Steve might plead guilty to a similar fondness. The focus here was on wetland species but I’m sure they could enthuse any naturalist about the life within your garden compost heap. The reserve will be all the richer for their records.

Steve was still sifting vegetation as the sun was dropping behind the ridge beyond the river and I went home for a very late lunch.

Martin Collier and Steve Lane: an inordinate fondness for beetles.

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Here comes the elephant (inspired by Namibia)

Here comes the elephant

For anyone missing the regular Namibia blogs, here's a little poem by Christopher Durdin, aged about 62½, inspired by elephants at waterholes in Namibia, November 2018. I had a little trouble with rhymes, which you might be able to help with (not necessarily out loud).

Here comes the elephant

Why did he stop?

Now I know why

Plop! Plop! Plop!

His name is Tiny

I know that sounds silly.

If you think his trunk’s long

Just look at his tusks.

African people

Live in huts.

Elephants break in

To steal their pizzas.

There goes the elephant

He’s done a bunk.

He’ll be back soon

He forgot his ... suitcase.

Elephant at Okaukuejo waterhole, Etosha.

Namibia, day 14 ... homeward bound

Day 14, 24 November – Walvis Bay to Johannesburg and home

With our flight at one o’clock there was time for a leisurely breakfast, packing and a final stroll along the strand alongside flamingos and large numbers of chestnut-banded plovers, or to look at common waxbills in local gardens. 

Greater flamingos close to the Strand at Walvis Bay.

Farewell to colourful Lagoon Loge

Having only one minibus available wasn’t a problem for the group as Walvis Bay airport was such a short distance away. Geoff ferried up those staying at Flamingo Villas first and was soon back at Lagoon Loge for the rest of us. We paused briefly for thousands of lesser flamingos at a former water treatment plant, a dense flock of them in the water behind a single black-necked grebe and many in the air as some people approached.

Airport in the desert, last view of Namibia (David Bennett).

Walvis Bay International is very much an airport in the desert. We had an uneventful wait there before walking to the plane for the flight to Johannesburg. In the meantime Geoff and Darrin went back to the garage in Swakopmund: repairs would take time so they returned to Cape Town in one minibus, leaving the other for the vehicle hire company to collect later. 

The group had a long wait at Johannesburg with plenty of time to walk between check-in and security areas and for shopping. The overnight flight back to the UK passed without incident and we arrived at Heathrow early on Sunday morning, 25 November.

Namibia, day 13 ... Walvis Bay and Namib Desert

23 November – Walvis Bay and Namib-Naukluft National Park

Pre-breakfast birdwatching was along the strand again, alongside early morning keep fit enthusiasts. Chestnut-banded plover was a new bird and there was a Caspian tern that many of us had missed yesterday. In the minibuses we went farther along Walvis Bay after breakfast. The large numbers of lesser flamingos in this area was quite a sight. Waders included thousands of avocets mixed with black-winged stilts, little stints alongside hundreds of curlew sandpipers and many chestnut-banded plovers, as well as those mentioned in yesterday’s account.

Lesser flamingos, Walvis Bay (Tim Hunt).

 We then drove into the Namib-Naukluft National Park: after nearly a fortnight in Namibia, in the Namib desert at last. It was hotter than the relative cool of the coast, but much less so than inland. We stopped to look at a range of flowering plants adapted to the harsh conditions, then tucked into the shade of small copse with a convenient picnic tables for the lunch Geoff had bought first thing.

The group split at this point with six going with Darrin to Swakopmund. On the edge of town, a wheel on the minibus came off. As vehicle issues go, solutions were close: a Toyota garage with a tow-truck was a few hundred metres away and a ride was quickly arranged to take the group into Swakopmund. A close harmony quartet was a highlight there.

The rest explored the desert some more, in particular to see the celebrated Welwitschias. These are odd, near-prostrate conifers that grow in the harshest of conditions with long tap roots and two odd, trailing leaves, almost solid to the touch. Their age is often measured in centuries, though there is some dispute about the oldest, perhaps 1500 years old. Visitors are directed to one area in particular, especially the biggest Welwitschia that’s behind a fence, and many are marked with a circle of stones to prevent trampling in the surface root area. Nearby we logged a range of specialist plants, including Namib hoodia and desert edelweiss; more are noted in this report’s lists.

Welwitschia mirabilis in the Namib-Naukluft National Park

We drove on to desert near Swakopmund with low, compact bushes. It took a while but we found Gray’s larks here, six in one area by the road with a tractrac shrike at the same place. We then met Darrin’s gang and somehow squeezed everyone in one minibus to return to Walvis Bay. The Lagoon Loge contingent joined the others for dinner along the road at Flamingo Villas.

Helicrysum roseo-niveum, 'desert edelweiss'.

Namibia, day 12 ... to coastal Walvis Bay

22 November – Erongo Mountains to Walvis Bay

The stone-edged pond and adjacent trees were alive with birds at breakfast time, including at least 22 rosy-faced lovebirds. 

Rosy-faced lovebirds gather near the Erongo Mountains waterhole (David Bennett)

The morning was spent travelling south and west towards the coast, with stops for fuel/coffee and to photograph wayside wild flowers near Omaruru: there must have been some rain in that area recently. These kept Sue and me puzzling over IDs (they'll be listed in the holiday report) as we travelled to the next stop, a collection of stalls selling gemstones and curios, former roadside stalls brought under one roof. Purchases were compared as we crossed the Namib Desert, the road part of a corridor of services including a railway line, water pipe and numerous wires, with several turns for the mines that are big business here.

Crotalaria argyraea (a lupin-like yellow pea) by the roadside. No, I'd never heard of it before, either.

We had lunch outside a nice café in Swakopmund, a cool sea breeze here quite a contrast with the hot interior. Our first Cape wagtail was easy to see as it walked around: there were more dozens more later. A brief drive around the town showed it to be prosperous and hints of the Germanic influence remaining here. It was a short way south then to Walvis Bay, where we were settled into two hotels within walking distance of each other opposite the strand that runs along the vast coastal lagoon. The tide was in but on the turn as we crossed the road and strip of grass: here Cape sparrows fed with the many Cape wagtails. White-fronted plovers were alongside familiar ringed plovers. A strange mammalian shape in the lagoon led to various suggestions: in fact it was a Cape fur seal. Distant greater flamingos flew across to close where we strolled as the tide receded and flocks of waders followed them in. The most numerous waders were bar-tailed godwits, plus grey plovers, sanderlings, turnstones and a few avocets. A count of 54 greenshanks was big by European standards.

Dinner was on the other side of the lagoon in The Raft, a super fish restaurant on stilts, like an end-of-pier establishment. There was one grey-headed gull with the numerous Hartlaub’s gulls; half a dozen white pelicans glided past the windows and settled on the adjacent mudflats. It felt like there was an end of holiday atmosphere as we ate, in a very positive sense. 

The Raft, Walvis Bay - a great place for the group's evening meal (Tim Hunt).

Namibia, day 11 ... bushcraft and rock art

21 November – Erongo Mountains

Ant-lion larva.

After a seven o’clock breakfast, the party split. Gill and John were driven in an open-sided vehicle. The rest of us were on foot led through the bush by guide Immanuel. It was proper bushcraft stuff. Tracks of aardvark and giraffe, and aardvark holes where we were advised not to stand in front of the entrance as they get taken over by all sorts, including warthogs that are prone to dashing out and sending you flying. There were piles of droppings, small to large, of springbok, gemsbok and giraffe, and leopard droppings like dog poo but containing lots of fur. Immanuel extracted an ant-lion larva from one of big patch of larval traps. 

Ant-lion larval pits, Erongo Mountains.

There were many dead giant millipedes, not a popular prey item as they contain strychnine. Ant trails led to holes surrounded by drying seeds, waiting to be taken underground. There were also the wiggly surface tunnels of harvest termites, which explained what the aardwolf seen on the Etosha night drive must have fed on in an area devoid of termite mounds. Trees included worm cure Albizia and a blue pea flower called cone or fish-poisoning bush Mundulea sericea.

Cool at first, the morning was heating up as we arrived at a series of granite outcrops. This was where we were shown rock art, mostly iron oxide red paintings by an unknown local tribe (though loosely linked to the San or bushmen) at least 2,000 years ago, possibly much older. Many depicted figures, elegant-looking stick people, though whether other colours have faded or washed away from more complex originals is unknown. Mammals were clearly antelopes, springboks we were told, and less clear eland and rhino.

Sand lizards with orange feet dashed around. A white-tailed shrike gave a plaintive whistle; with its rather short tail and black, white and grey appearance perhaps pied shrike would be a better name. There were orange-headed rock agamas, especially on the big boulders behind our chalets on our return.

Orange-winged dropwing, male, by Erongo's swimming pool.

Everyone pottered, chatted or rested before and after lunch. The concrete pond edge with stones attracted Namaqua doves, lark-like buntings and bright orange-winged dropwings, at least five males of the last also much in evidence around the edge of the swimming pool.

For our afternoon walk, Geoff led us through a simple trail, marked by white arrows, up and along the ridge of rocks behind the chalets. This took us to yet more rock paintings, including people, eland, giraffe and elephant, and into discussion about what they might mean and the treatment of the San in recent centuries.

San rock art, plainly a giraffe. See also the antelopes (springboks?) below.

Namibia, day 10 ... Etosha to Erongo Mountains

20 November – Etosha to Erongo Mountains

The only new bird on the pre-breakfast walk was a willow warbler; it was more a chance to remind ourselves of what a superb place Okaukuejo is for its wealth of birds, let alone the mammals beyond the perimeter fence. Cheryl photographed a pied crow eating a mouse; white-crowned and red-breasted shrikes were as tame as ever here. At the waterhole, watched over by one large elephant, the mammals came and went: zebras in a procession going out, a line of kudus coming in. Namaqua sandgrouse burbled as they flew around and a single cattle egret fed on the pool’s edge along with the usual wood sandpiper and a bunch of Cape turtle doves.

A pied crow eats a rodent (Cheryl Hunt).

It was mostly a day of travel, though punctuated with various breaks. The first of these was just off the tarmac road south out of Etosha National Park at Ombika waterhole, though it was more of a sunken spring, the water out of sight. Here four ostriches stood surrounded by impalas, zebras, gemsboks and springboks, and one warthog walked away.

A confiding southern white-crowned shrike at Okaukuejo.

Leaving Etosha we carried onto Outjo where there was a delightful coffee shop. Some in the group went into the Spar supermarket and several came away with purchases from the souvenir shop. Lunch at Omaruru was at a restaurant with a large garden that had various eccentric sculptures, wood-hoopoes flew through and a fine citrus swallowtail was nectaring on flowers. 

It was only on the last stretch towards our new base in the Erongo Mountains that we were back onto dirt roads. Apart from a brief pause for two Verreaux’s eagles, we kept going until we arrived at 15:45. We were greeted with a smile and a glass of orange juice and settled into our rooms overlooking the granite hills. There was time to potter, swim or watch white-winged starlings and mountain wheatears before gathering for drinks and a delicious four-course meal.

The dramatic backdrop at Erongo Mountains (David Bennett).