Meng and Melinda Chan reported fondly on the Benjamin fig (Ficus benjamina) at Upper Seletar that eventually fell and was chopped down (left).

The tree was the focus point of many birds as well as long tailed macaques (Macaca fascicularis) whenever it figged. As it was sited in a less accessible site, unlike that at Bukit Timah (1, 2 and 3), it attracted few birders and thus was less known.

The posting attracted the attention of Prof Vilma D’Rozario, a Nature Society stalwart and Chairman of its Education Group, who wrote: “I remember this tree fondly and will miss it. My family and I, and Angie, stationed ourselves just by the tree in May when we were doing our Vesak Day duty of watching out for illegal animal release. We saw monkeys feasting on the figs of this tree - beautiful. But yes, it was hanging precariously over the water. I think Angie took a photo of me and my family, if I am not mistaken… did you Angie?” Well, Angie Ng did take the pictures and kindly sent them to me, one of which is shown above. Vilma is in the centre, posing with her sister-in-law Adrianne, and niece Jillian (12) and nephew Andrew (7) - all members of the Nature Society (Singapore). The photograph was taken on Vesak Day this year at Upper Seletar. The group had chosen to ‘guard’ the water by the tree as this was a favourite release ground! And sure enough, they stopped three men from releasing four turtles and a family of four from releasing two baby red-eared sliders into the reservoir at that spot.

This clearly shows that there are nature lovers who are aware of this particular fig tree and are missing it now that it is there no more. As Vilma adds, “To me, the loss of this lovely fig tree is very sad indeed. I have on many occasions sat right by it, and enjoyed the vista before me. On Vesak Day this year, it was figging and there were macaques feeding on the figs.”
Any more people with fond memories of this tree shown above?

Input by Prof Vilma D’Rozario, images by Meng and Melinda Chan (top and bottom) and Angie Ng (centre).

On the wings of the Wandering Albatross (Diomedea exulans) will we imagine to fly, visit flightless birds that epitomize the Antarctic- the penguins (Sphenisciformes). We will visit 3 species-the Adelie (Pygoscelis adeliae), Chinstrap (Py. antarctica) (below right) and Gentoo Penguins (Py. papua) (below left) - a near threatened species.

Seventeen species of flightless penguins are identified in the southern hemisphere; while being the most aquatic of all sea birds, land only when moulting and in breeding mode. For the rest of the time, they live in the oceans, feeding on squids and krill (crustacean) - food of the whales that roam the Antarctic waters.

The first continental landing was made with the zodiacs (inflatable boats strapped with Yamaha engines). This is where we will alight from the boat craft systematically and wave ‘adios’ to the ‘Queen of the Southern Ocean’.

I soon found myself on an alien land, walking on black pebbly stones of the shoreline, fully clothed in all winter gears in a summer lit Antarctica. Strapped in by my life-jacket like a moon walker, I waddled like the Adelie Penguins and was greeted by loud and noisy honking calls (below). A colony of rabbit sized birds with reduced wings, flat and stiff were flapping happily to receive the expedition members.

We received mandatory briefings on good bird ethics. ‘Strictly no less than 15 feet distance from any bird at anytime or at any distance that would startle a nesting bird’. That was the order of the day.

In summer Antarctica, most of the penguin species are social, open nesters in colonies where most nests are lined with pebbles collected from the beach or stolen from nearby nests. Both parents share the incubation of eggs and feeding the young.

The sights, sounds and odour emitting from these penguin colonies were simply unforgettable. Bloodstained rocks were the result of duel fights that drew blood as seen in the picture, where lonely males approached partnered females too near for male competitor’s comfort.

There were times when eggs got predated by scavengering Brown Skuas (Stercorarius antarctica) in unattended nest sites (above).

While incubation usually lasts 5-6 weeks, fledging of chicks vary according to different species and may range from 7-14 weeks. The penguins have no problem surviving in the harsh climate of Antarctica with 80 % of insulative feather properties, 20% fat with a high internal body temperature of 38ºC (101ºF).

With bodies extremely streamlined, penguins developed a method of swimming- termed ‘porpoising’. While most penguins can submerge for 5-7 minutes, the largest species - Emperor Penguin (Aptenodytes forsteri) a breeding endemic, can submerge for up to 18 minutes and takes to dives of 630 meters with a swimming speed of about 24 kph.

Unless one is involved in a specialized, winter scientific expedition, it is not likely to chance the sight of the Emperor Penguin as this species breeds only in winter, close to shore or near edge of pack ice where it is thickest.

The fascination of this species is that the male incubates the egg by huddling the egg in his feet covering it with a brood pouch and shuffles around for about 2 months bracing the harsh winter, while his mate it out at sea feeding.

Luc Jacquet’s Oscar award latest winning documentary, ‘The March of the Penguins’ tells of this fascinating wild life of the enduring Emperor Penguin in search of a mate by walking miles upon miles in blizzards of the Antarctica, the courtship that followed, and to just lay an egg… only to see it taken. A ‘must see’ documentary film of endearing avian love that puts in question the inadequacies of Homo sapiens compared.

The passage through the Antarctic Sound is paved by the ice-breaker cruising in between huge icebergs and crushing smaller floating ice along the way (above). The ‘Iceberg Alley’ as it is nicknamed, holds spectacular icebergs formation of various sizes.

There were several landings made to interesting historical places and observation of whales, dolphins and several species of seals were also had. Apart from a polar plunge by some high spirited and adventurous expedition members, a walk up the snow mountain was simply breath-taking.

It was on this mountain that Christmas Day, I sat on the snow slopes and looked around, that it hit me - I was in a different world! A place beyond my humble dreams but a journey well taken, fulfilled to keep in memory. I felt grateful and so lucky. I would deeply have regretted if I had not taken this personal journey, had not the yearning to be with oceanic birds, wild life and nature beckoning me on.

It is a world with a horizon made by peaks of undulating snowed hills; a white world not even a tree stands with wood that can make a toothpick from or for a bird to perch on a branch; a world, with no neon lights or concrete jungles nor the aroma of fresh bread from a bakery for the city sleekers.

Can any human live in such an ecological wonder- a wilderness so barren, yet so serene, pristine yet soul searching and rich in avian and wild animal life?

Join me for the final fourth part series of this adventure to view the highlights of my travel. To view… the scenic Lemaire Channel and imagine King Poseidon- the mythological Greek god of the oceans, awesomely hold twin, snow-peaked mountain rocks apart with his outstretched muscled arms, his fish tail beckoning your arrival, whipping up a water rainbow shower splash and water falls like colourful sparkling confetti to welcome you!

Come, view…. the endemic bird that completes the avian portrait of Antarctica.

AVIAN WRITER DAISY O’NEILL, PENANG, MALAYSIA.

An earlier posting reported the sighting of a pair of Jerdon’s Bazas (Aviceda jerdoni) at Lim Chu Kang. This is a rare passage migrant, having been reported only twice before. The current posting reports on the birds catching and feasting on Changeable Lizards (Calotes versicolor).

Chan Yoke Meng just happened to be at the right place at the right time. But of the two feedings, he managed to document only the second when his view was not obstructed by vegetation.

The bird flew into the crown of a tree from a nearby perch (above). It then moved on to the lizard nearby, doing a partial somersault in the process and caught it just below the head. Firmly clutched in its talons, it flew back to its original perch (below).

Although unable to move, the lizard put up a spirited fight, opening its mouth wide and baring its teeth. But it was no match against the baza’s deadly bill (below).

A few powerful blows on the head was enough to render the lizard lifeless. The baza then had a meal of the lizard’s head after wrenching it off the body (below). It then began to dismember the rest of the headless lizard.

As each piece was torn off it casually swallowed it. In the process it paused a little to defecate (above). After swallowing the last piece, the bird proceeded to clean its bill against the branch (below). The entire process was completed in 20 minutes.

There was a sudden high pitch cry of “pee-ow” from the other bird nearby and the baza flew off to join its mate.

These birds feed mostly on large insects, also on lizards and frogs, and sometimes on small snakes. It hunts from a perch, sallying to the ground or into a tree once a prey is sighted.

Input and images by Chan Yoke Meng. Identification confirmation of the baza and identification of the lizard by R. Subaraj.

The journey of a thousand kilometres began late afternoon when it was time to walk up the ramp towards the welcoming expedition crew of the Yugoslavian made icebreaker, chartered to lead 104 passengers on a 10-day expedition to visit Antarctic Peninsula.

Passengers were invited to the stern deck to participate in a ceremonial last look at Ushuaia and the snowy Feugen mountains beyond. Many hands were waving. I wasn’t quite sure who was waving to whom but to the shorebirds of ‘The Land of Fire’ I did.

In my heart, I took on a mission to carry an unspoken message from the Andean Condor (Vultur gryphus) ‘King of the Andes’ to the ‘Queen of the Southern Ocean’- the Wandering Albatross (Diomedea exulans) that I can just about summarised in verse.

A gift of feathered-donut garter pure and white,
Seek her, ride her, tell her as she wanders wide.
Whisper, “I’ll always cherish you in my dreams,”
But my home is the Andean mountains of Fire,
My lover, the Southern Ocean of mans’ desire.

Garter her with all my love much can be,
To love her is to leave her and be set free.
She lives on krill and I a scavenger freak,
I say, I am ebony and she in gilded ivory,
Of a piano keyboard brushed in eternity.

And soon the time finally came to find myself on a huge floating, metal barge cruising the calm waters of the Beagle Channel. Ushuaia slowly disappeared into the horizon, chased by Patagonian winds eastwards towards the treacherous, famous Drake Passage.

This dreaded stretch of watery corridor was sailed by various explorers during the Golden Age of Exploration (15th Century) and after; and more recently by scientific explorers of the early 20th Century- Robert Scott and Ernest Shackleton.

It was not until satellites were beamed from the sky that the outline of the continent what used to be known to the early Greeks as, ‘Terra Australis Incognita’ was revealed. It showed places and seas later named after famed explorers and scientists who contributed immensely to the upside world. Scientific explorers too, mapped out oceanic avians known to congregate in and beyond the Antarctic Convergence.

The Antarctic Convergence is a natural boundary like a ring of water around the continent of Antarctica. It is the meeting area of the warm Sub Antarctic Surface Water and the cold Antarctic Water where the latter dense water sinks beneath the warmer waters resulting in a drop in sea surface temperature. This zone of convergence of more than 20,000 kilometres of watery area around the continent is of distinctive importance as a biological phenomenon, influencing the distribution of fish, plankton and various species of birds.

I wasted no time in orientating myself to the ship for the best vantage point to view the oceanic birds from deck. Many hours were also spent at the ship’s library to research the varied interests of this journey, gulping cups of tea, coffee from a 24-hour, beverage-snack bar and treated to unending rounds of mouth watering pastries.

The Forward Lounge where mandatory briefings, lectures, recaps, cocktail parties, entertainment shows, documentaries and movies were held brought passengers of 17 different nationalities together like a big family.

A professional ornithologist with the expedition crew was also at hand to enlighten us with picture slides and talks on some of the 45 species of birds found in the Antarctic Peninsula and surrounds. Daily sightings of birds were ticked off on a bulletin board to update birders.

Leading to my own cabin, I noticed seasick bags hung along the winding, staircase railings ready for the ship to ‘Rock N Roll’ at the Drake Passage. My cabin was at sea level and through the porthole, I could see the waterline and the blue sky and had opportunities to view birds that would follow-fly with the cruise ship (above).

I wasted no time to taking my first prescription tablet when I noticed the first splash of sea water smacking the porthole.

Frequent important announcements were issued by the expedition leader, in keeping passengers alerted to climatic changes and to standby for any eventualities. There were two life jackets in my room and they soon became my best and closest companions for every ‘zodiac’ (landing craft) landings.

Despite the bitterly and freezing temperatures outdoor, I would make the effort to dress up on every opportunity that came whenever announcements were made of birds’ sightings. With 8×42 binoculars, field guide and a camera, I made a quick exit for the deck (above). I could however, tolerated only 5 minutes of viewing at a time before my bare fingers went numbed. With thick gloves on, it was extremely difficult to even feel the grip of my ‘point, zoom and shoot’ camera. What more to feel for the ‘click’ button!

The first flock of Cape Petrels (Daption capense -35cm) with striking black and white dorsal patterns were seen and soon there were more chasing the ship (above). Although the flocks were small in number, less than ten, they provided the thrill of seeing them ‘zoomed’ past like sorties of miniature fighter planes, along the starboard and port and suddenly disappeared as fast as they first appeared… from nowhere.

Social evenings went well and friendships made over sumptuous Austrian 5-star catering in the dining hall. When the sea became rough and the ship was tossed like a bobbling matchbox in a roaring ocean, only one-third of the passengers were seen trickling into the dinner room and brave enough to tuck in their dinners while struggling to keep their cutleries on the table. The rest remained in their cabins. I was staring at my sick bags and eventually surrendered my steak dinner in one of them. Eating came to a full stop.

Tall waves churned clockwise by sea currents were crashing on to the ship as it charged forward, splashing the decks, sending retreating waters only to be met with the next onslaught. Contents kept inside my bolted bedside table were rolling inside the drawer. I could hear the crashing of loose drawers and unlocked wardrobe doors swung opened and slammed shut in neighbouring cabins, in competition with mine.

I could do nothing right but lay in bed and stared at the porthole of continuous churning of water outside, followed the rhythm of the waves and drifted in and out of sleep. I felt as though I was inside a, ‘switched on’ washing machine and confined for two and a half days and night!

Eventually when the promazine tablets did kicked in, I was able to tolerate small amounts of dry bread and banana, which a kind soul of a new, found friend brought to my cabin. However, when I had to stagger around and had to cling on to side railings for support, I felt like I just wanted to be back to bed and die quietly. Had the Wandering Albatross (Dio. exulans) appeared to receive her garter, I wasn’t at home!

Finally when I found my ‘sea legs’, I was up and about and out onto the deck in no time to catch up with the birds. I was not disappointed as sightings of the Gray- headed Albatross (Dio. chrysostoma - WS:2M), Black-browed Albatross (Dio. melanophrys - WS: 2.2M) (above), Light-mantled Albatross (Phoebetria palpebrata - WS: 2.10M) - Near Threatened were made.

Finally, I made visual contact with the ‘Queen of the Southern Ocean’- the Wandering Albatross (Dio. exulans - WS 3.2M) arriving almost in white with black winged tips and reminges. She was like wearing a white silky gown laced with black trimmings at the edge. She wore a long rosy bill with a horn coloured tip. Her eyelids -the colour of pink rose petals.

Sharing the ocean with the ‘big boys’ were the Antarctic Giant Petrel (Macronectes giganteus WS: 2.15M) -Vulnerable, Southern Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialoides - WS: 1.10M), Antarctic Petrel (Thalassoica antarctica - WS: 1M)-Breeding Endemic and the small Antarctic Prion (Pachyptila desolata - 28cm).

Land was first sighted on the third day of my journey at Penguin Island but landing was impossible due to strong winds.

The official first landing on Antarctica came on the fourth day at Brown Bluff (above). I was left staring at a rust-coloured, giant, ice-capped rock from deck and white, pigeon sized Snow Petrels (Pagodroma nivea - 34cm) were gregariously flying around with quick erratic flight displays.

“Was that all to see in Antarctica?”

The sea that began yielding fragments of ice in the Antarctic Ocean; the ice that was swelling in size, shape and frequency soon were dominating everywhere as though the horizon has disappeared, leaving only hanging clouds in the sky and occasional ozone free rays of sun shining through - to warm my body amidst the bite of the wind (above).

“So, what’s behind the Bluff?”

Come, ride with me and see through the eyes of the Wandering Albatross and be taken on a royal tour of some breathtaking icebergs, see how many penguins and species of penguins you can help me count in my third part series.

AVIAN WRITER DAISY O’NEILL, PENANG, MALAYSIA.

On the morning of 10th December 2006 while Chan Yoke Meng was out photographing birds in Lim Chu Kang, he chanced upon a pair of Jerdon’s Baza (Aviceda jerdoni) landing on a branch of a tree nearby. He managed to capture the image of the baza and subsequently confirmed its identity. This was further confirmed by our bird specialist R. Subaraj.

Jerdon’s Baza is one of two bazas that can be seen in Singapore. The other is Black Baza (A. leuphotes). Both are winter visitors but Jerdon’s is an extremely rare passage migrant, with only two previous recorded sightings.

The global range of Jerdon’s Baza as listed by Wells (1999) is SW India and Sri Lanka, the Himalayan foothills east from Darjeeling; SW Yunnan and Hainan; Southeast Asia to Sumatra, Borneo and the Philippines; and Sulawesi to the Banggai and Sula islands. According to Robson (2005), it is also seen in Peninsular Malaysia, although rarely so.

As far as Singapore is concerned, the first-ever recorded sighting was on 6th December 2002 (Wang & Lim, 2003). The bird probably crashed into a building in Maju Camp where it was caught. Unfortunately it eventually died. A second sighting was on 23rd January 2004 by Tang Hung Bun in Marina City Park. This current sighting would make it the third time the bird is sighted in Singapore.

According to del Hoyo et al.(1994), it is possible that some birds, probably juveniles from the northern range, dispersed from the main flock or migrate south into Thailand, where their movements had been recorded. From Thailand the birds or some of them moved south into Peninsular Malaysia, where the only records were during winter. The Singapore records must have come mostly from these movements.

The bird can be recognised by its short, stout legs and feet with well-developed talons, the lower tarsus being unfeathered; and the two or three black, white-tipped feathers on the nape, elongated as a crest. Another important character is the two tooth-like indentations along the edge of the upper mandible (Wells, 1999) (top, arrow).

References
del Hoyo, J., Elliott, A., Sargatal, J. eds. (1994). Handbook of the birds of the world. Vol. 2. New world vultures to guineafowls. Barcelona: Lynx Edicions.
Robson, C. (2005). Birds of South-east Asia. London: New Holland.
Wang, L.K. & Lim, K.S. (2003). First record of Jedon’s Baza Aviceda jerdoni ) for Singapore. Singapore Avifauna 17(2):30-31 (mimeo.).
Wells, D.R. (1999). The birds of the Thai-Malay Peninsular. Vol. I, Non-passerines. Academic Press, London.

Wang Luan Keng and R. Subaraj provided additional information.