Top of the Lake

Welcome to the Midnight Collective Broadsheet 27

Actively supporting NZ’s endangered wetland birds

We have been away for a few days, staying at Te Moenga Bay, at the top end of Lake Taupo, in the middle of the North Island. It’s the shortest day and there’s good snow on the mountain (Ruapehu) though not yet ski-able because  the middle of winter falls nearer mid-July.

The Mountain - volcanic Ruapehu wearing his winter coat 

At this time of the year every nz scaup in this region seems to make a beeline for Te Moenga, and the little bay on the opposite side of the lake. It is difficult to get an accurate count, because they are a diving duck and not always visible above surface, but we reckoned up 75 to 80 here, with another 50 on the other shore.

 

NZ Scaup on Taupo 

We haven’t seen scaup in Kapiti for at least two months, and though we don’t know where ours migrate to in winter, it would be surprising if they travelled this far, because they aren’t seasoned flyers. The only seem to fly at night and gain lift off with a furious whirr of their wings before hurtling along close to the surface. They may also be nocturnal, at least to some degree, because like this lot above, they spend  a lot of time sleeping on top of the water.

They appear to collect like this for social reasons. There were obvious mating rituals taking place (bolshy confrontational behaviour by the males was a sure sign). But here at the top of the lake there is plenty of food for them. So perhaps it is a winter feeding ground as well. Adding some grist to this theory are the many shags, who come in on sunny winter afternoons to dry themselves and roost on the local launches. Here pied and black shags perch happily together, while the occasional little shag can be spotted hoovering up the inanga (and their cousins), close in to the shore.

 

Fishing launch with shags and scaup Lake Taupo 

Where is she?

The big surprise however, was the appearance of a pair of dabchicks, the first we have spotted at the lake. They too were feeding and perhaps had been together some time; though this didn’t stop the male going into something of a panic when the female strayed too far away.

They have a ritual ‘smooch’ fluttering about together while burying their noses underwater after drifting part while feeding, though this seems to be initiated by the  male who kept a constant watch on her movements. These little endemic grebes can spend 12-15 seconds under water, and then dive again immediately. He became quite agitated at her insouciance though she, for her part seemed nonplussed, and a little impatient with the fuss.

Dabchick pair at rear, male on left

Track we were listening to while posting this

Sharon King and the Dapkings ‘I learned the hard way.

I learned the hard way

That your love is cruel

I learned the hard way, baby

Not to be your fool

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