Treeswifts––Pure Elegance!

Among many highlights of our recent trip to Cambodia and Borneo were treeswifts––the ultimate in avian elegance!

Related to swifts and hummingbirds, treeswifts comprise one small family of only four species. For a long time they confounded ornithologists, who placed them with swallows. Even their scientific name reflects the confusion: Hemiprocne, or "half-swallow". 

On this recent trek to Asia, we were delighted to see three of the four treeswifts: Crested, Whiskered, and Gray-rumped. 

Crested Treeswifts grace the skies of Tmatboey, Cambodia

(Photos by Narca)

Most treeswifts live in more open, edge habitats, where they swoop through the air like especially acrobatic swallows to catch their insect prey, but the lovely Whiskered Treeswift is a species of primary evergreen forest, where it works a different kind of edge. It soars in the spaces around the canopies of emergent trees, acrobatically scouring the upper edge of the tall forests for its food. Only rarely does it venture into second-growth forest.

Male Whiskered Treeswifts sport deep rufous cheeks...

while the female's cheeks are blackish. 

This pair was in the Danum Valley, Borneo.

Pairs of Whiskered Treeswifts stay in their year-round territories, where they nest at the tips of slender branches (probably as a defense against predation by snakes). Their small nests are built of bits of bark, leaves and feathers, cemented by their saliva. They lay a single egg, which completely fills the tiny cup.

I never tire of watching the graceful flight of treeswifts!

Okoki's White-winged Ducks, and More!

Our next stop is Okoki, famed for its White-winged Ducks––yet another endangered species that finds refuge in Cambodia. We arrive mid-afternoon at this remote site, only about 10 miles from the Laos border. As soon as we pull into the campsite, local guides meet us. They are excited––the White-winged Ducks are there, now!––and that takes precedence over everything.

A bespeckled White-winged Duck at Okoki, Cambodia

(Photos mostly by Narca)

A 10-minute walk along a trail takes us to a blind, and there indeed is the prize. We quietly watch and photograph the ducks. They are alert and aware of us, but not too worried. (The next day, while we again watch the White-winged Ducks from a blind, a pair of Giant Ibis lands in the tree immediately over our heads! That mega-rarity is here, too!)

The faces of our local guides reflect their pleasure in showing us the White-winged Ducks.

White-wings are among the largest of ducks. They are a puzzle. Originally thought to be related to Muscovy Ducks and the dabbling ducks, recent DNA work indicates that they are actually closer to the diving ducks. They are very secretive. Although the Wikipedia account notes that they are known to feed only at night, the ducks that we observed were feeding, as well as loafing, during the day. White-wings are spottily distributed in Southeast Asia, India, and Sumatra. They depend on hollows in trees for nesting, and since this is a big duck, it needs big hollows. Habitat destruction is a major threat to their survival.

A White-winged Duck displays those white wings. 

(Photo by our guide Duong Nara, who was experimenting with our camera)

At Okoki we once again stay in a tented camp, complete with tented bush shower and toilet, and outfitted by the local villagers. We pass a couple of very pleasant days, searching out Green Peafowl and Bar-bellied Pitta, Green Imperial Pigeon and Puff-throated Babbler. Indian Rollers tumble through the sky in courtship rolls, flashing brilliant blue as the sun catches their wings. Tickell's Blue Flycatcher joins the parade of other blue flycatchers.

Okoki's butterflies are outstanding. Here are just a few! I hope to put names to at least some of them, eventually.

A nymphalid, possibly a species of Moduza (known as the Commanders)

This emerald-eyed beauty has strangely-shaped hind wings. It's a pristine individual.

Another jewel-eyed hairstreak whose turquoise wingspots match the eyes.

This beautiful creature reminds me of Helicopis from South America.

This lovely Yellow Moth (surely there's a better name?) finds Rich's well-traveled hat completely irresistible.

The Yellow Moth, Dysphania sagana, is a geometrid moth from Southeast Asia, Sumatra and Borneo.

A few flowers enliven the dry season, including this probable iris relative:

The Vulture Restaurant

When we were setting up this Cambodia trip through the Sam Veasna Center for Wildlife Conservation, and saw the price breakdown for different items, Jim emailed us something to the effect of "and we get a cow, too! What's that about?"

A critically-endangered Red-headed Vulture joins his White-rumped kin at a feeding station. (Photos by Narca)

The populations of several species of Old World vultures have been in freefall in recent years, to the point that they are critically in danger of extinction. The primary cause has been a veterinary drug, diclofenac, which is given to sick livestock and which kills the vultures that feed on the carcasses of toxic animals. Vultures are wide-ranging, so although the drug is not used in Cambodia, the Cambodian populations have nonetheless declined dramatically.

A stopgap measure now in use is to provide a few feeding stations with safe carcasses for the endangered vultures. If we can nurse the populations beyond this major challenge, while removing the toxic drugs from the environment, it is possible that the vulture populations can once again thrive. In addition to helping vultures, these feeding stations also provision endangered Greater Adjutants (a stork), endangered Dholes (Indian Wild Dog), and Leopards.

Feedings at the Chhep Vulture Restaurant in Preah Vihear Protected Forest are timed to coincide with the visits of birders, although the vultures are fed monthly whether or not tourists are present. Feedings also occur at other sites, with the overall timing staggered to even out the food supply. Local villagers benefit from the sale of aging or ailing animals, and the vultures perform their natural function. The idea may sound a bit gruesome, but I found the scene was much less macabre than similar scenes of chaotic predation in Africa.

Here is what happened:

We arrive at our campsite, which is exactly like that provided at Prey Veng. Local villagers cook for us and outfit the camp. In return, the village receives fees from our stay; fees from ecotourism fund much-needed projects like the drilling of wells for clean water.

The next morning we rise before dawn and make our way past the pond where yesterday a Stork-billed Kingfisher perched. A beautiful big snake, thickly banded in black and pale yellow, slithers past us. Beyond the pond lies grassland with scattered trees, the foraging turf for Savannah Nightjars.

About a kilometer from camp, we enter two blinds raised on scaffolding. Rich takes the higher one, which has openings better suited to his big camera lens.

Alan and our guide Nara descend from the blind at the Vulture Restaurant.

Dawn breaks, and the trees beyond us are festooned in vultures. Below them lies the dead cow. Looking at the gaunt beast, I decide that it is probably a mercy to feed it to these vultures. Soon the vultures descend to the ground next to the cow, but don't feed. They seem wary.

White-rumped Vultures contemplate breakfast.

The few big Red-headed Vultures are magnificent beasts, dominating the smaller and more numerous White-rumped Vultures. The Red-heads hold themselves regally and brook no interference from lesser mortals. Eventually the vultures settle down. Predictably, a Red-head is the first to begin to feed.

A Red-headed Vulture in full splendor

But before the bulk of the vultures can start feeding, a lactating village dog arrives, and the vultures withdraw to watch. Then a herd of Water Buffalo moves in, sniffing the cow, licking nearby bones, and routing the dog who should by this time be well-fed. Very soon, our local guides arrive with a packed breakfast omelette, and they shoo away the buffalo, threatening them with a small stick.

Water Buffalo investigate the feeding station, as the vultures wait.

Vultures are a patient lot. Now, finally, they feed. The flock quickly morphs into a roiling mass of wings and snapping beaks. A half hour later, birds begin to withdraw, their crops very full.

White-rumped Vultures have... white rumps

We amble back to camp, to a very welcome bush shower, before heading on to Okoki.

A Red-headed Vulture flies off with full crop.

Home Base at Tmatboey

Anyone considering a trip to Cambodia may be interested in seeing what accommodations at Tmatboey are like. The villagers involved in the ecotourism program were unfailingly helpful and friendly.

The cabins are duplexes. Like elsewhere in Cambodia, people are asked to remove their shoes before entering.

Our cabin at Tmatboey (Photos by Narca)

Inside, the rooms are simple and clean. The ceiling fan is a big plus. Mosquito netting keeps out unwanted nighttime visitors.

Our room at Tmatboey

The bathrooms are a... let's say cozy... combination of shower, sink, and Western-style toilet, with the typical system of flushing by means of buckets of water. The shower water was even heated, for those who could figure out the system.

And en-suite wildlife went beyond geckos to include this charming frog, perched on the bathroom mirror.

Here is the open-air dining area at Tmatboey. Food was tasty, and the cooks made an effort to meet individual needs.

Now can you manage that? Of course you can. And the true rewards include a wealth of birds. This tiny Collared Falconet graced the road in.

Collared Falconet

And butterflies! I have no idea how this one even fits into the grand scheme of life.

Prey Veng's Birds and Leps

Let's return to the field with our trusty guide, Nara, and a local guide from the village. Mardy, who guided us at the temples of Angkor Wat, has also come at our invitation. He is eager to see Prey Veng for the first time, and in addition he augments the local cook's efforts with his own culinary feats.

Mardy presents us with a breakfast omelette, Cambodian-style

(Photos by Narca)

Prey Veng features a very fine wetland––an ancient baray about a mile long and a half-mile wide. (Barays are artificial wetlands constructed centuries ago by the Angkor empire.)

White-rumped Falcon, a highly-sought-after species, graces our camp.

The very first morning, a rare White-rumped Falcon swoops into camp. We had also seen one on the drive in, and to see a second is bounty beyond belief.

We spend two days exploring the baray, finding Eurasian Hoopoes, Lesser Adjutants, Oriental Darters, Oriental Honey Buzzard, a huge Gray-headed Fishing-Eagle, Orange-breasted Pigeons, Golden-fronted Leafbirds, Scarlet-backed Flowerpeckers, Ruby-cheeked and Purple Sunbirds, and spectacular White-bellied Woodpeckers.

A lovely Orange-breasted Green Pigeon

Asian Barred Owlets are quite fun––for us. Not for anything smaller than they are.

Asian Barred Owlet, terror of small birds

I am astonished at the number and variety of butterflies we encounter, even though it's the dry season.

A Gray Pansy, Junonia atlites...

and its more colorful cousin, a Peacock Pansy, Precis (or Junonia) almana 

I have barely begun to sort out the butterfly species, and lack the references to do a very good job of it. Here is an unknown species, a striking little hairstreak, which could prove to be a challenge... [but, as of 8 March, it is no longer unknown! Doug Danforth has identified it as a Common Pierrot].

Common Pierrot, Castalius rosimon, near Prey Veng...

and a nymphalid, probably Lexias pardalis.

Throughout our trip, we encountered warm and helpful people. Alan, in particular, received the royal treatment due to a respected elder in Cambodia. After observing a way of making Alan more comfortable, Mardy or our drivers, Da or Li, carried a foldup chair for him on every trail, so he wouldn't become tired with the effort of standing. Now that is exceptional kindness.

Conservation in Cambodia

What fine examples we found of ecotourism bringing needed revenues to small, impoverished villages!

The organizer and catalyst for ecotourism in Cambodia is the Sam Veasna Center for Wildlife Conservation, working in conjunction with its international partner, Wildlife Conservation Society. WCS founded SVC in 2006 for the express purpose of providing "an alternative sustainable livelihood from ecotourism for the local communities at the sites that WCS prioritizes for conservation."

It's happening, and it's working.

The SVC logo on our car door (Photos by Narca)

The logo comes from a Sarus Crane motif carved into temple stone at Angkor Wat.

I first learned about the SVC through a long-time friend, Howie Nielsen, who has been training local birding guides in Cambodia for this project. Judging by the quality of the guides we met, the effort is going very well.

Funds generated by SVC projects have enabled villages to dig wells for access to clean water, build schools, maintain roads and bridges, and build health clinics. In return, the villagers have become the guardians of some of the most critically endangered birds anywhere.

The populations of endangered birds within the project sites are rising. In the case of White-shouldered Ibis at Tmatboey, a graph on the SVC website shows the ibis population growing from roughly 2 to more than 30 during a 9-year period.

Besides ecotourism, the villagers have few alternatives for making an income. They farm rice. They raise Water Buffalo and other livestock.

Water Buffalo at Prey Veng, our first campsite and a region important for the continuing existence of critically endangered Giant Ibis, Greater Adjutant, and White-winged Duck

And they harvest resin from several species of trees to use to waterproof boats and other objects.

Jim at a tree where resin is collected

As Nara said to us many times, "They have nothing." He should know. He grew up as the son of poor farmers, and through his own initiative, talent and intelligence––with help from SVC––is crafting a different life for himself. In a place like Cambodia, even a small investment in ecotourism can bring new hope and opportunity.

Conditions for travelers are more basic than in many countries, but they are manageable, and I do plan to fashion a tour through Naturalist Journeys, which we'll be offering in January or February of 2014.

The Road to Prey Veng

Let's move back in time to January in Cambodia. The hour is pre-dawn. I'm writing by lantern light outside my tent, which has been provided by the local community of Prey Veng. Here at our campsite, sounds are in transition from the unearthly, resonant songs of the night to those of day. In a distant village, a rooster crows. The cook is pouring water, preparing rice for breakfast. A few soft snores continue from the tent next door.

Sunrise at Prey Veng, Cambodia (Photos by Narca)

Light grows in the sky. The dawn chorus ramps up. A distant Great Eared Nightjar calls. Colors are becoming distinct. My mind drifts to yesterday. It was our first day to become acquainted with Nara, the birding guide assigned to us by Sam Veasna Center for Wildlife Conservation. We couldn't be more pleased!

Our guide, Duong Nara, is a jewel among guides: adept at bird vocalizations, sharp-eyed, exceedingly congenial, focused. We want to show him our birds in the States!

Yesterday's drive in was along a maze of single lane roads through dry deciduous forest. These weaving trails aren't made for cars, but rather for the small "walking tractors" that pull loads of firewood and anything else. Usually people pile on top of the load. The tractors also pull plows through the fields. They are narrower than cars, so using their paths requires high clearance, 4-wheel drive, and an expert driver––which our drivers, Da and Li, certainly are.

A "walking tractor"––one of the few we saw that wasn't loaded to the gills!

The area's maze has changed since Nara, Da and Li were last here, and at one point we take a wrong turn. (I'm not too concerned, even when the hour grows late––the car seats look to be a much more comfortable place to spend the night than the airplane seats had been on the flight here!)

As can happen, that wrong turn brings one of the great finds of the trip. A family of Great Slaty Woodpeckers undulates through the dry forest, landing not far away, posturing and screeching in excitement. Great Slaties are the world's largest woodpecker, since the demise of Mexico's even larger Imperial Woodpecker. Seeing a Great Slaty is one of my fondest wishes for the trip.

An enormous Great Slaty Woodpecker has a prehistoric look.

Our missed turn also brings other gems: a family of rare Black-headed Woodpeckers, a Changeable Hawk-Eagle, Bengal Bushlarks.

Crested Serpent Eagles are fairly common.

But Nara is growing anxious at the hour, and we retrace our steps, finding the turn we need after consultation with one of the few people we see. Then ensues a race to the river. We don't reach it before dark, but that's okay. It isn't a ford, I learn, but rather a rickety bridge, precariously crossing a ravine.

By daylight, this bridge didn't look quite as alarming, but still an interesting venture in a car!

We drive a couple more hours in the dark. At the end, we are weaving slowly between huge stands of bamboo, squeezing between bamboo and trees with, at times, less than an inch of clearance on either side. The sight of our camp at Prey Veng is welcome indeed.

Our campsite at Prey Veng

The camp crew, our drivers, and our guide Nara sleep in netted hammocks. We four have two big zippered tents, complete with floor, and two beds inside draped with mosquito netting. (Now, in the dry season, very few mosquitos trouble us anywhere.) The camp has a bush shower. The bush toilet, also encased in a zippered tent, is Asian-style––a flat porcelain fixture set over a latrine at ground level in a cement base. Westerners with stiff joints find it a challenge to use. Everything is very new and clean. The community of Prey Veng is investing in ecotourism.

Judging by this sign, Asians can be as puzzled by Western toilets as we can be by theirs. In a couple of places with a true throne, I saw muddy footprints on the sides of the seat.

The following day, our drivers discover a route across the now-dry rice paddies that avoids weaving between tight clumps of bamboo.