I’ve wanted to come to Kangaroo Island ever since I heard stories of it on family trips to Adelaide as a kid. An island paradise with different looking kangaroos among other exotic wildlife.
Since fire tore through the island in late 2019, I’ve felt compelled to follow through on my childhood wish. Compulsions further fuelled by a keen desire to capture vision of the endangered Glossy black cockatoo. A species seriously impacted by the horror of the black summer fires.
My fiancé and I finally made the trip via road in mid February this year. I had one bird at the top of my list to see while on the island. I had the shot in mind that I wanted to get - wings stretched out, vivid red tail panels flayed out like a paper hand fan. Dramatic sparse landscapes blurred into the background as the setting sun lit the bird in warm, full colours. These things rarely go to plan.
Kangaroo Island is an arresting place, though not in a garish or extravagant way. Most of its delights have to be searched for, almost uncovered.
Roads, unfortunately, cut across the island like bitumen slaughter houses. Marsupial corpses bloat and rot along gravel verges. The smell of decay is constant. At this time of year, grasses are yellow and stiff like scrubbing brush bristles. Charred branches stretch upwards like finger bones clawing at the sky. The island bares the scars of fire and the wounds of its aftermath. Fire preparation is writ large in signs along the roadside like old Uncle Sam recruitment ads. Our airbnb host had his own on site fire truck. The island is both busy and quiet at a moments notice. Dirt roads are as common as roadkill.
Until recently, I’d heard nothing of the beaches here, only of fire and wildlife. The island is fringed with remarkable coves, lagoons and beaches that wouldn’t look out of place in a Queensland travel brochure. Here though, they’re quieter, understated and at times incredibly well hidden. Making their discovery feel like an achievement.
General stores sell world class whiting burgers. Goannas amble across roads with the urgency of ancient rocks taking form.
After ticking off some wildlife (sea lion and fur seal colonies) and food related activities (lavender scones and honey farms) I set myself to locate the glossy black. Incidentally, our air bnb was located within a wildlife sanctuary and our hosts informed us the cockatoos could be seen of an early evening feeding in their favourite she-oak trees on the property.
This was a long shot, so I researched a location with some more proven sightings - a hotel carpark. We set off in the early afternoon to this location before a scheduled marine mammal boat tour later in the day. Hotel reception confirmed the sightings were common and directed us to a dusty nature trail that coiled up a hill outside the hotel. They had the pamphlets to prove it. I was excited. The sun hammered us as the afternoon drew on. The forest here was silent and empty and after an hour or so of fruitless searching, we gave in and drove on to the dolphin tour. I was deflated but determined to not let the miss impact me. If there’s one thing bird watching demands, it’s patience.
The sun was even stronger when we returned in the early evening. We walked the trail again, pausing and resting under the shade of the she-oaks, as much for respite as for the opportunity for a closer look. Still, the forest was empty but for a few galahs and magpies. I dropped my head and cursed my luck, thinking this was my last great hope of seeing them as our agenda was packed for our remaining days on the island. My fiancé, as she always does, gently reminded me of the lessons I often preach - patience. As I dragged my feet along the dusty path through the carpark, I was feeling defeated and almost delirious. Out of nowhere I started singing out loud, something I do when in this agitated state. The song was directed at the glossy black cockatoo, asking it to fly into my life. And, in an almost mystical twist of fate, the birds appeared. Two of them flew down into a nearby she-oak at the fringes of the carpark.
It was a surreal moment, not just because of the song that definitely didn’t coax them in but also because of the mundanity of the scene around it. A member of hotel staff pulled a mower from the maintenance shed and filled it with petrol while a hotel guest struggled to park his rental car under the tree itself. This is not how I expected the moment to go. By this time, the sun had dipped considerably and the light was far from perfect. But, I had my camera ready and excitedly captured footage of these birds that looked initially understated but concealed vivd colours that rewarded careful viewing and patience. The shots I got were far from perfect and a long way from the vision I had - but that’s the game for the most part. It was a great thrill to see them at all - considering the sobering estimates of their remaining populations in the wild.
Kangaroo Island and the glossy black both benefit from taking a moment to pause, a moment to allow discovery and to let the beauty reveal itself rather than searching for something more immediate. My 8 year old self would have been rather happy with this trip.