Friday, February 28
Today was our last full day at the Blue Waters Inn. It would be our last day in the part of Tobago preferred by several species we hadn’t yet found – such as Collared Trogon. The previous evening I had worked out an arrangement with an excellent local guide, Newton George. Newton had been one of the five of us who had set the Tobago Big Day Record (113 species) on October 1, 2001. I had prepared a list of "must see" species that we needed to see for the first time or which we had seen but felt that a better view would be desirable. We met Newton at first light, using both his van and his car (which I drove).
Our first target species was the beautiful Collared Trogon, the only species of trogon found on Tobago (except for a lone Violaceous Trogon of suspicious origin that had been seen during the preceding three months). Our best chance for that species was the Main Ridge rainforest, which meant another cool, refreshing trip along the Roxborough-Bloody Bay Road. We stopped at the end of the entrace road to the Blue Waters Inn to inspect the small lagoon, which hosted three adult Yellow-crowned Night-Herons. Continuing on to Roxborough, we turned west and began climbing to the more verdant elevations. Newton knew exactly where to stop along the way. Each time we stopped, Newton imitated the call of the Collared Trogon. If there was no response, he hustled us back into the vans so we could get to the next spot.
The first stop produced no trogon, but we enjoyed savoring the colors of the Mountain Immortelles and observing many of the species of birds with which we were now familiar.
Our second stop produced a distant calling trogon that kept its distance. We saw a Rufous-breasted Hermit for half a second and had nice looks at a Patch Butterfly, which is black with lime-colored markings.
Newton wasn’t the least bit discouraged at our lack of trogons. Onward we drove, higher and higher, almost as far as Gilpin Trace. At one point I had to swerve to avoid striking two male Red-legged Honeycreepers that were engaged in a hot aerial battle. What we saw was mainly a fast moving blur of crimson, purple, and yellow, the yellow being the underwings. The third stop produced a mouth-watering view of a male Collared Trogon in the neighborhood of a fruiting fig tree. The tree was serving as a magnet for many species of birds, among which was our first White-necked Thrush. A close look showed that there were probably a dozen more of them moving about in the shadows of the fig leaves.
After everyone had viewed both the trogon and the thrush through the scopes, we headed back toward Speyside to Merchiston Road. This little-known hotspot is on the east side of the road just before one reaches the Speyside lookout. It consists of a wide, grassy, mostly flat roadbed that winds through areas of second growth, allowing birders to view birds from above them in many spots.
Here we connected briefly with a Blue-black Grassquit that sang a few times and then dove into the weeds, never to be seen again. Here we had our closest views of Orange-winged Parrots, too, with one pair sitting patiently in the open as we viewed them at close range through the scopes.
Newton can identify any bird by sight, and now he showed us that he could identify them by sound as well. Far away he had heard the faint calls of a pair of White-winged Becards, a species that is very rare on Tobago. With some members of our group he carefully and patiently sought them with his binoculars until a pair of them, the black male and the rufous female, flashed across a nearby opening and away through the foliage. Most of us either missed them altogether or else got a quick peripheral view of them.
Newton also picked up the distant calls of Violaceous Euphonias, and again, despite persistence and patience, in the end they ended up on our "heard only" list.
I think we all felt satisfied with our day’s outing and for the opportunity to witness an expert "target birder" on his home turf. Once again Newton had come through with flying colors.
In the afternoon we were free to do as we wished. I had an urge to catch a ride over the mountains to Charlotteville, which I had last visited in 1999 as a lecturer aboard a cruise ship. April, Ruth, and Tony were also interested, so we walked to the main road, expecting to catch a taxi the four miles to Charlotteville. Traffic was sparse, taxis were nil, but as time passed we drifted along the road in the direction we hoped to be driven.
To make a long story short, by the time we accepted the fact that we weren’t going to get a ride to Charlotteville, we were more than halfway there. Some time later, four weary "pink people" trudged down the main street of Charlotteville. We headed straight for the nearest store for some cold drinks, then thankfully settled down on some beachside benches.
Although we were weary, we enjoyed the Magnificent Frigatebirds and Laughing Gulls that soared over the harbor. I negotiated with a young man to drive us back to the entrance road at the Blue Waters Inn, where we arrived in time for dinner and with a good story to tell about our unintentional hike.
I think we all felt satisfied with our day’s outing and for the opportunity to witness an expert "target birder" on his home turf. Once again Newton had come through with flying colors.
