MISSION accomplished!

I have been on the hunt to see a cassowary.  Some of the volunteer work I did was to benefit the cassowary.  Given that it plays such a significant role in the rainforest, I want to see one of these big birds in person.  Unfortunately, there are not many left; current estimates are less than 2000 birds, possibly even far less.

I did not see one while volunteering nor up at Cape Trib (see previous post).  On my drive back south, I stopped at Etty Bay again.  It’s a hotspot for cassowaries.  That’s where I saw the footprints along the beach.  Other folks were hanging out at Etty Bay, hoping to see as well.  This German man with some impressive camera gear had been waiting there for 12 hours.  I hope he’s some sort of professional wildlife photographer, because that’s some dedication.  In fact, I have so much more appreciation for wildlife photographers – what patience they must have.

Needless to say, I had no sightings at Etty Bay.  I decided to spend a couple of days around Mission Beach, which has the highest density of cassowaries in the country.  Around 40 live in that area.  Surely, I’ll have luck there.

Given my poor luck to date, I visited the Wet Tropics Environment Centre, hoping for some recommendations.  There, I chatted with a nice volunteer about the impact of Yasi on the area, the difficulty of keeping up revegetation sites, the trouble with myrtle rust, and the behavior of cassowaries.  She kindly marked up a map for me with trails and other locations where folks had recently seen cassowaries.  She included some sites to visit during the day and others at early morning and early evening.  I took that map and set off. 

I hit hotspot after hotspot, but no luck.  I left the trail (Biton Hill Walking Track) on the way back to my hostel for as my early evening location.  This trail starts with switchbacks up the hill and then splits into a loop.  As I was starting the trek, a hiker/runner alerts me that he has noticed a cassowary just to the right of the split during his recent visits.  I check out that area, but I don’t see or hear anything.  I see some cassowary scat, but it doesn’t look fresh to me.  I continue along the loop and check out the lookout point.  On my way back down, I am really starting to lose hope on my search.  I have another area to try in the morning, but I am expecting to write a “MISSION failed” post.  Maybe I’ll have better luck if I just give up looking. 

I am feeling bummed out on my failure.  While walking, I hear some rustling in the bush.  Probably just a brush/bush turkey or a orange-footed scrubfowl.   Those birds always fool me with their rustling.  However, this time it's not one of them.  It's an echidna!  Like the platypus, the echidna is a monotreme, an egg-laying mammal.  It looks like a porcupine with an elongated snout (you can see the snout on the left side of the photo).  What a pleasant bonus!  I wasn’t expecting to see an echidna, but I feel so much better now that I have spotted a new animal during my Mission Beach trip.  Yay!

When I finish the loop, I decide to check out that recommended spot one more time.  This time I hear some chirping.  Actually, it sounds more like beeps from a kid’s toy car.  I move closer and determine that the sound is coming from the ground and not up in the trees.  Seems promising.  Maybe I am hearing some cassowary chicks (possibly two).  I decide to wait a few minutes to satisfy my curiosity.  Maybe it’s another bird, but I would like to know.  Wait a sec… if these are cassowary chicks, then I am standing in a very dangerous spot.  You don’t want to be between the father cassowary and his chicks.  The chirping is to my left, and now I hear some rustling to my right.  Yup, I’m moving!  I position myself right where the trail splits.  I can still see the area, and I have a couple of options on the trail.  I wait around for a few minutes, because I still occasionally hear the rustling.  And then, out comes Dad.  Wow, what a prehistoric-looking creature.  He heads straight out of the bush and onto the trail.  Rather than turn in the direction toward the chirping chicks as I expected, he turns toward me.  Oh no.  I’m backing up and backing up.  Down the trail toward the car park.  I feel like he’s moving quickly, but he just has long legs.  He reaches the split and turns to head up the loop.  And I head back down to my car, amazed.