Fantastic Beasts and where to find them: my humble version. Part the second.
Welcome back to my efforts at honouring the creatures I have stumbled across. The first part ended with a description of a Tokay Lizard from Thailand ending the life of a Coconut Beetle in a predatory ambush symbolic of the process of Evolution.
This second part continues with another denizen from Thailand. I was enjoying a nocturnal hike through the tropical jungle of Khao Sok. Armed with my head torch, camera and leech-proof (nothing is ever actually leech proof, I discovered. I will spare readers pictures of leeches and the bleeding entry points they bored into my skin) socks, I headed deep into the warm blanketing darkness offered by the quilt of a moonless night and the multiplicity of small and towering plants that comprised the body of the jungle.
The soporific and at times smothering humidity and a scent that warned of an approaching thunderstorm added to the allure of this hike. I came across many creatures, including long legged Scutigera centipedes, countless species of predatory wolf spiders, sleek civet cats slinking into the shadows, moths cloaked with a dazzling array of colors....and snakes.
Many different types of snakes. A copperhead racer snake swimming across a narrow creek, leaving transient 'S' trails shimmering in the reflection of my torch. An anorexic-thin emerald vine snake who betrayed its presence to me when it moved toward what I assume was potential prey. It otherwise looked just like the Jungle vines it was, until that moment, expertly camouflaged within.
The highlight for me was actually a three metre long Reticulated python, completely ignorant of my presence, crossing my path directly in front of me. This powerful snake can grow up to a length of ten metres, and is the largest python in the world. Sadly, I stood in such awe of this monarch of the jungle that my camera remained within my backpack.
A close second would have to be this beautiful fellow. A Green Cat Snake, resting in the body of a Palm tree. It was remarkably docile, exhibiting little movement on my cautious approach. I was dazzled by its deep and luminescent green colourings, which boundaried by its perfectly symmetrical scales gave an impression of perfect traction as it slowly and gracefully slid between the trunks of the two co-located palms. On writing this, a Darwinian evolution-based hierarchy came again to mind, as I know that the Tokay lizard I previously posted would in turn, make easy and delicious prey for this graceful reptilian predator.
From the islands and jungles of Thailand, we now return to Australia. Lord Howe island is a hidden paradise, perhaps one can even say Australia's own Galapagos islands with its teeming migratory and local wildlife and context-specific super-adaptations by the animal and plant life thriving there. This living Jurassic dream is also reasonably easy to reach, being located seven hundred kilometres west of the thriving, dynamic and multicultural city of Sydney.
I was fortunate enough to have stayed there for a week in 2013. Once again, nature revealed a buffet of wonders welcoming the keen observer. Every night for example, I strolled down to Ned's beach to watch the spectacle of thousands of Flesh footed Shearwaters (known colloquially as Muttonbirds) glide in like silent angels from the sky...only to comically hit the ground rolling, and clumsily too until they reached their nesting burrows. I failed to bring earplugs...a problem because they are transitional visitors to Lord Howe, migrating here from Northern Siberia to fight and mate all night long Lionel Richie style. And they weren't subtle or silent about it either.
However, I am here more to write about an amazing solitary creature I chanced upon while snorkelling. Lord Howe Island's coastlines are lined with beautiful, currently unscathed columns and bomboras of coral reef, and is teeming with life. During my various snorkels, I met hundreds of species of fish, admired the varieties of coral, and swam with a green sea turtle. I even managed to spot a mesmerising, bright orange nudibranch, otherwise known as a Spanish Dancer, swaying rhythmically with the undulating ocean current.
On this occasion, I was checking out a small shipwreck off Old Settlement Beach. Its rust-colored hues mixed in a swirling manner with the green and blue of the coral in and around it. As I floated closer, a large part of it seemed to detach itself from the body of the wreck, and slowly drift away. As I adjusted my perspective, I saw that this was in actuality a beautiful Butterfly Cod.
Its brilliant stripes and defensively raised spines reminded me that with beauty came a well-armed capacity to defend itself: a flesh wound from these potent, venom tipped spines can result in the most exquisite agony. As I did with the green sea turtle, I floated admiringly from a safe distance, doing a few slow rounds with the cod around the shipwreck, before moving away in awe and respect for this ocean denizen.
The last fantastic beast for this post also comes from Lord Howe Island. Near the summit of Mount Gower to be exact. This climb was for me, a lifetime experience and one of my most treasured memories.
We clambered across boulders, trekked through at least three different and highly unique jungle strata, balanced precipitously on sheer cliff edges, rock climbed our way up and down valleys, drank from streams, slid down slippery tree roots and rocks and got injured, and eventually treated to an amazingly unique and biodiverse Mist Forest at the 845m above sea level peak. We then had to climb back down as a powerful and relentless thunderstorm hit us. It was a fantastic nine hours spent without an ounce of regret.
Nearing the top of our climb, we stopped for a rest amidst the sea of green carpet that was a prehistoric-aged forest surrounding us. As we were reflecting thus far on an already amazing experience, we heard a gentle barely discernible rustle. We were subsequently greeted by a single Lord Howe Island Woodhen! This emissary of nature is uniquely found on this island, an unassuming and quirky flightless bird that looks somewhat like New Zealand's kiwi. It appeared ignorant or without fear, and sauntered right up to our backpacks, examining it with short thrusts of its beak before nonchalantly moving off into the undergrowth. I felt blessed by its brief but poignant visit, almost as if it heralded our awe at the Mist Forest yet to come.
I will end this post here, and again if readers wish I will continue this series. I am finding writing about these encounters enjoyable, and also gives me an excuse to lose myself in reminiscence!