Tasmanian Tiger Hunted to Extinction For No Good Reason

Add another layer of depressing to the story of the Tassie Tiger:

The thylacine (Thylacinus cynocephalus), better known as the Tasmanian tiger, has long been the poster child for human-caused extinction. Hunted out of existence by Australian farmers who feared that the striped, canine-like marsupials would kill their sheep, the last thylacine died in captivity in Hobart Zoo 75 years ago next week, on September 7, 1936 (although the species was not officially declared extinct until about 25 years ago).

Now, just a few days before the annual observance of National Thylacine Day in Australia, a new study reveals that the predator was probably not a threat to sheep after all. Its notably long jaw (one of the animal’s most distinctive features) could open to an amazing 120 degrees but was too weak to kill sheep, according to a study published September 1 in the Journal of Zoology.

Great. (The 120° claim is a commonly repeated myth, I've read, just to note. They could open their mouths very wide, maybe to near 80°.)

Look at this beautiful animal, a marsupial dog:




That's video of the very last one ever known to exist.

[photo]

Good Tasmanian Devil News

I've blogged about the Tasmanian Devil face cancer epidemic—it's communicable!—before. Well, today, some good news:

Efforts to save the Tasmanian Devil have received a boost, with the first joeys arriving in an insurance population of the species at a Hunter Valley property.

A year ago 50 devils were released in a free-range enclosure at a property owned by media mogul James Packer, as part of a plan to produce a thousand disease-free devils by 2021.

The Devil Ark program is run by the Australian Reptile Park and spokeswoman Liz Vella says the ambitious plan is paying off.

"We have got several mums with babies," she said. 

Much more info at TassieDevil..com

Beach Kangaroos, Manta Rays, and Seawater-Drinking Birds

So we went down to Batemans Bay and region, south of Sydney on the NSW coast, a few weeks ago, and saw beach kangaroos. The first one was in Pebbly Beach, just lounging on a sandy dune.

It's an Eastern Grey Kangaroo. They're not generally associated with beaches, but it appears that some have adapted. And we actually saw tracks on the beach that clearly showed that kangaroos had gone into the surf! I would have loved to see that.
A short video of the roo and the beach:





We saw several more in a much more lush area just off the beach in Murramurang National Park.

Yes, we did call this one "Ilene":

Christine narrates:





A small guy showing off his creamy winter coat:

Mama roo and joey:

We then drove up the coast just a little ways, to Bawley Point, where we were lucky enough to stop at a newsagents shop, where the proprietor was also the local tourist info guy. He told us about a few places, including one where you can "see the rays" from an old dock. "They're always there," he said. We were skeptical. We shouldn't have been.









Christine did a little research and was able to identify this long-red-billed bird as a Sooty Oyster Catcher:

The Sooty Oystercatcher feeds on molluscs, crabs and other crustaceans, marine worms, starfish and sea urchins, and small fish. It uses its long bill to stab at prey or to lever, prise or hammer open food items. It drinks seawater.

Drinks seawater. I don't think I've ever heard of that. But I've just did some googling, and found out that many sea birds drink seawater. Fascinating!


And this little fella is a Willy Wagtail:

Eels, Leeches, And a Giant Spider on My Face [updtd]

So you're in Australia. In the southeastern state of New South Wales, the North Carolina of Australia. In Sydney. (Let's call it Wilmington). Go straight north from the city center about 20 miles, er, about 32 kilometers, and you run into Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park.

Now you all know where to search for my body.

Right. To the latest excursion.

I entered the park at the Ku-ring-gai Wildflower Garden, and soon heard a "knocking on a hollow wood box" bird-call I am completely unfamiliar with. Five-second video:




I unfortunately do not know the type of this gum (eucaplyptus) tree, but it is a big, beautiful, splotchy specimen:

So I'm taking a big step down from one rock to another when I go full face into a thick spider web. Hooray for me. I get as much web off my face and out of my hair as possible, hoping that no giant spider was on my head, and amble on. About a minute later I feel something walking on my left cheek. It was, of course, a giant spider.

This is Nephila edulis, the Gold Orb Weaver. Not much power in their venom—localized pain and swelling is all—but they're big. I unfortunately seem to have dislodged a leg or two from her. (Yes, her: the males are much smaller.) Sorry about that, spider.

Now here's a very cool thing I just learned via this hike. I got a few shots of a big brown bird that seemed very curious about me. Almost looked hawkish [update, April 18, 2011: Christine found a hawkish story!], but also kind off dovish.

A little closer:

I had no idea what it was, but this fantastic website, Birds in Backyards, has a Bird Finder: You enter in relative size, color, body type, and tail type, and it will suggest a possible bird. I did just that with this bird—and found my bird: a Brown Cuckoo Dove. No question about it. Here are some more pics. And here's its backside, just because:

If anyone can give me a clue as to what kind of flower this is, it'd be greatly appreciated. Christine guessed oleander, but that's not quite right. Related maybe?

I came to Cowan Creek, and saw some strange animal tracks. I have no idea what they are - but I just found a photo on Flickr of what some dude says is swamp wallaby tracks. They're just like my tracks here!



I saw a wallaby, a swamp wallaby, I'm sure, as they're the only ones in these parts, as far as my reading tells me.  It was a beautiful dark chocolate brown, and its back appeared out of a large ferny area as it hopped away from me. No pic, alas: I chased it, of course, but wallabies are a bit faster than humans.

I did get a pic of an eel, or, like the cobbler catfish, an eel-like fish. Huge, maybe three feet long.

Video of another, smaller one:



I think they're Long-finned Eels. Fascinating!

The larvae of Long-finned eels (glass eels, ~58 mm length) enter estuaries and migrate upstream to freshwater habitats where they may remain for up to 52 years before returning to the ocean to spawn and die.

More here.

While filming that first eel, I had the holy crap scared out of me by a huge, fat owl, or owl-like bird, that flew out of a tree just above the creek and made a getaway. The camera, flying violently around, as it often just does, unfortunately did not capture anything but the sound of its esccape.



I looked down at my feet at one point, and saw blood. Leeches. Again.



Then, whilst picking leeches from by bloody feet, a tiny bird came to visit, just a few feet away. Once again I fed some info into the Birds in Backyards bird finder tool, and, I found the Yellow Breasted Robin.



She's a beauty, isn't she?

Mind the Fence

Can I just say, in advance, "OWWWWWW!"

That is all.



Brush-tailed Possum, Dee Why, Sydney, Oz, October, 2006.

Australia Reptile Park

I hate and love zoos. Some I just hate, I guess. But many are very good at what zoos are supposed to be good at: fascinating humans while educating them about animals while being exceptionally mindful of the care of those animals. On that note, Christine and I went for a drive up north yesterday and came across the Australia Reptile Park. We were tired of driving and said What the hell and paid the $24 (!) to get in.

We will be going back. Possibly to work as volunteers.

First, a sign we saw in the park, helpfully illustrating the life cycle of the tasmanian devil (click to enlarge):

In case you didn't get that, kids:

Look at those faces: Mating is fun! And a little naughty! Like I said: educating and fascinating!

Moving on: The Australia Reptile Park is one of the country's most important wildlife parks/zoos. For starters: It's where the venom from what is commonly called the most deadly spider in the world, the Sydney funnel web spider, is "milked" from spiders in order to develop antivenom. (Here's how they do it!) That antivenom first became available in 1980: before that, deaths from funnel web bites weren't exactly common, but they did happen, and if you didn't die you suffered horribly and were in the hospital for weeks. Since development of the antivenom there has not been a single reported death from the bite of a Sydeny funnel web. Not one. You still suffer horribly—the funnel web's bite is extremely painful, and you'll still get fever and sweats and chills and nausea and pain and pain and pain—but you're only in the hospital for a couple days, rather than weeks and weeks.

• Note: When Christine was a kid her grandfather died from a funnel web bite. She has a funny story about that. Honestly. Seems Grandpa was able to kill the spider—always helpful—and dear little Christine, about six at the time, was assigned the duty of holding said dead spider while they raced to the hospital. Once there, they were tending to grandpa and whatnot…when the "dead" funnel web spider…the most deadly spider in creation…started crawling across Christine's hand. But really, she should tell you the story…

The park, we found out from the very nice and very funny Ranger Mike, has about 600 venomous snakes - OH. MY. GOD. I am so going into the building - and they do regular venom milking on several of them of different species, as well as the venomous spider milking. They even have king cobras—the only zoo in Australia that has these snakes. And they breed them. And if we volunteer…maybe we can help milk them? Please?

Let's get to some pics. You'll be happy to hear that I actually didn't take very many. First, on the drive out, we stopped and listed to some bell birds. Just beautiful. (The also beautiful whining cries are from another type of bird which I'm not familiar  with. I will let you know when I find out.)



I've always thought of copperheads as distinctly American snakes, but they are found in many parts of the world. Here's an Aussie version—very venomous (of course)—the very attractive lowland copperhead:

Here's a closer shot. If you click, then click again, you can get in very close to the cute bugger's face, and see the mites on its head.  Mites are a big problem with captive (and wild) snakes.

Next up, a non-native animal, the Galapagos tortoise. I don't have much to say about it, but this beast does have an odd shell:

Now back to native Oz: wombats, the cutest little pig creatures you ever saw. I'll write more about them when we see them in the wild, which we will:



• My feelings about animals in captivity were very affected by this book: King Solomon's Ring. Lorenz believed that some, maybe many, animals are not adversely affected by captivity. And he speaks with more than a little authority. (On a personal note, I think it was my old friend Dave May who recommended that book to me. Along with A Confederacy of Dunces, A Canticle For Liebowitz, and many more. Thanks for that, Dave.)

Rrrror.

The Kangaroo Claw

This is a photo of a back paw of a kangaroo (via):

Consider that kangaroos' back legs are unbelievably powerful—they can jump an eight-foot fence from a standstill, and can leap nearly thirty feet while running—and that they can stand over eight feet tall while in fighting position. That claw could rip your guts out.

Now here's a video of a kangaroo attack.

Christine Says Hello, and Brushtail Possum

Christine with a short and sweet video:

And another. There's a tiny bit of speaking at the beginning, and you can just shut your eyes and listen for a while to the sound we go to sleep with every night, if you are so inclined:

And last night I woke up at 12:30 a.m. and decided it was time for a good nighttime walk. I headed north, took a left down a street of no particular significance, and ran into the body of water known as Narrabeen Lakes. Nice.

Then I saw it: a brushtail possum. (Also called brush-tailed.) Fast as a cat. I used my uncanny photography skills to capture forever an image of the rascal:

Hmmm. Something must have been wrong with the camera. I tried again:

I was actually kicked by a passing kangaroo right when that shot was taken. Swear to god. One more time:

Now that's a bit better, but as you can probably tell I cropped it, and it's not very sharp. But look at those ears! It looks like Piglet.

Okay, now I'm going to get it:

Oh well, close enough for folk music.

That's two Australian possum species so far, loads to go.

Opossums, Possums, and the Art of Photography

I saw my first possum since coming to Australia nearly a month ago. Finally.

Aussie possums are very different from American opossums. (We spell it both ways; Australians don't spell it with the "o.") American opossums come in just one variety, the Virginia opossum (Didelphis virginiana). They are slow—I've heard a top speed of 1.8 mph; they are omnivorous, meaning they eat just about anything; they have hairless tails; and they have the ability to "play possum," meaning they have an involuntary defense mechanism that sees them going into a comalike state when in danger. Aussie possums, which are only very distantly related*, come in 27 different species; they're all quick and nimble; they're herbivores; almost all have fur-covered tails; and they don't have the playing possum defense mechanism. They are, in other words, very different creatures.

Australian possums are in fact only called "possums" because they were deemed to be similar to America opossums when first encountered by Europeans in the 1700s.

My possum came silently along the top of the fence between our building and the next. I rushed to get my camera, and, in my usual artistic style, I got a great shot of it:

Brilliant!

I was however, able to identify the little bugger:

Like all ringtail possums, the common ringtail possum has a strongly prehensile tail which acts as a fifth limb, and which is carried tightly coiled when not being used. It can be distinguished from the brushtail by the light covering of fur on its tail, as well as the white tail tip.

The picture shows the white tail tip, which can be quite long.

* All marsupials on the planet are believed to have descended from a marsupial creature that first appeared some 100 million years ago (maybe many more) on land that later became North America. (It was still attached to Europe and Asia at the time.) The creature prospered and migrated to South America, which then migrated itself, south to the supercontinent Gondwana, of which Australia was still a part. Over the millennia the marsupials expanded into Australia, which later broke off and became its own continent. Over the eons they evolved to become the 220-odd different marsupials that populate the continent today, which means that all those Aussie possum species, and all its other marsupials, even the mighty kangaroo—and our Virginia opossum as well—evolved from that small, long ago North American marsupial. (And there are still 13 species of marsupial in South America.)

Now here's a bonus pic of the Christine looking very Parisian on our veranda:

Boxing Kangaroos (Really)

I first visited Australia in 2006, and saw my very first wild kangaroos in Canberra. They gave me a show, and I really should share it here. It's too funny how this progresses. I see them in this school yard, very early in the morning. I shakily video them, they go behind a bush, I round the bush, and there they are - looking at me. They seem to go, "Sigh. Let's give the damn tourist the routine," then rear get into their toes and tails position, and...well you'll have to watch. It was too much. (When they were done they looked at me like, "Good enough?" and hoped off.)



That actually inspired a blog that I did very little with over the years - Boxing Kangaroos.