Story behind the images

 

 

 

Shape shifters: Karearea, the NZ falcon

 

In early December 2009 I was invited by the owners of Ferintosh Station (Mt Cook) to come and photograph a nesting pair of eastern falcons. When first discovered, the 3 chicks were still white, however they were covered in grey down by the time I got to see them (~11 days old). Right from the first 5 minutes in the presence of these majestic birds I was hooked and I visited the scrape almost daily until the chicks fledged.

 

Although I'd had many previous falcon encounters, there is nothing that quite prepares you for being the focus of attack during a nest defence. An occasional alarm call would go out from 500m out, but it was only once I was on the home stretch, 40-50m out from the scrape, that both parents would launch their attacks. As a passionate photographer I was spellbound by the spectacle and drama that unfolded before me as I was treated to the ultimate in ‘warbird' aerobatics and aerial mastery. Spellbound to the extent that until some wingtips brushed my face I was quite oblivious as to just how close their close passes were. Although there was sparse vegetation, it hardly amounted to ‘cover' given it consisted of 2-3 foot high matagouri and the occasional 4 foot high single-stemmed rowan sapling! My only real protection was a bike helmet and my camera. Remarkably I wasn't struck for the first three visits to the scrape, and overall was only struck 8 times, all of which by the female. As is typical, the scrape was on the ground in a natural rock bivvy.

  

Whereas the male is a master shape shifter with a variety of attacking styles, the female was the more lethal and predictable. She would contour fly just above vegetation height coming in hard and fast, directly for the eyes. She certainly meant business and whether she hit you or not depended simply on if she chose to have her landing gear up or down - she was normally that close! The male wasn't so determined to get his pound of flesh and would execute the most fantastic aerobatic attack displays. Commonly he'd go into a moderately-angled stoop often positioning himself with the sun behind him, thereby blinding you. He would also rock from side to side in these dives presumably in an attempt to confuse you into immobility. Also though to turn his head increases drag by 50 percent, so to maintain his aerodynamics and flight speed he chooses to physically shift his body, rather than compromise his aerodynamic form.

 

Occasionally the male would come from altitude going into a free-fall dive, hyperstreamlining his body to reduce drag, with wings tucked right in and plummeting vertically straight down onto you.  At the last moment he would pull into a barrel roll and peel off. Reminiscent of an F1-11 with its wings in and afterburner on, excepting in a vertical dive rather than level flight, this really is something spectacular to witness. Especially from the perspective of you being his target! Needless to say, photographing such a missile was next to impossible and besides I was totally awestruck by such mastery and control that photography was forgotten, also, you simply don't have time. I figured he wasn't a kamikaze pilot so I was never actually concerned that he would fail to pull away. Photographically, his most spectacular flying involved lots of fancy flared turns and hovering overhead at the bottom of his low-angle stoops. His aerobatics were even more spectacular in the strong gales we were having, as rather than hunker down in challenging flying conditions, the falcons were both in their element.

 

Chicks double their weight roughly every 3-6 days, so hence on a daily basis there was a visible difference in their appearance. They were fed lots of rabbit when they were very young, but as they got older and more independent at feeding, they dined more on small birds, the odd dragon fly and even a trout. On xmas day they dined in fine style on chukar and had it twice more before new years. I was suitably impressed that their food choices went more up-market over the festive season! Interestingly, dragon flies found in the scrape showed no puncture marks to the wings or body, which is testament to the precision hunting that the falcon is renown for.

 

As the chicks (all female) became mobile they would jump around the scrape and on hot days be found out in the grass away from the outcrop. Once their flight feathers started coming in (wings and tail), they were growing at a rate of over 1 cm per day. They soon developed into very fast runners and when disturbed, they would sometimes take off and hide. After running away from me, they would often come back and check me out as they are very curious young things. I am still completely flummoxed as to how one of them ran down into a very steep gully beside the scrape and yet she was back up at the scrape the next morning. It seemed like an impossible climb to me for a young nestling and I spent quite some time trying to locate and retrieve her, convinced she could never get back by herself.

 

It was interesting sitting at the scrape with the chicks and observing their reaction to all the racket the parents were making above us. They would sit cocking their heads, staring up into the sky probably wondering what an earth all the fuss was about.  Once the chicks got older, and after the obligatory rounds of attacking as I slowly made my way the last 40m to the scrape, one or even both parents would leave me with the chicks and take off hunting. When the female was off hunting, the male would sometimes come and perch just 3-4 m away from me, just checking me out. The chicks were apparently quite content to have me within a couple of feet of them, one in particular allowed this right up until fledging and even 3 months later she will come and perch within 4-5m of me when I go to find them.

 

The chicks fledged at ~35-38 days old. Some of their initial flights I'm sure were more accidental than on purpose. We were being hammered by strong gales at the time so one wrong flap and suddenly they'd be airborne and after a short haphazard flight they'd be promptly redeposited in an ungainly fashion, generally in the middle of some matagouri. Given these trying conditions they soon gained their wings as they were literally blown across a gully and deposited on the adjacent slope. The last chick to fledge was 3-4 days behind the other two and in the gales she steadfastly stuck to the top of the bivvy outcrop nearly being completely blown off at times, but steadfastly refusing to so much as lift a wing in case she took off. Clearly she'd observed the inaugural flights of the other two and she wasn't having a bar of it! Even though two chicks had fledged and were often on the adjacent slope, I would always find all three at the scrape when I would appear each day, i.e., they didn't decamp the scrape until that last chick fledged. I rarely saw the parents by this stage as they were hunting full time it seemed. Also, they had long since given up attempting to deter me from going to the chicks.

 

It was a particularly sad day for me the day I went to the scrape and found no falcons. Sitting on top of their outcrop though, eventually I heard the fledglings up high on the adjacent ridgeline. Like many teenagers it seems, you hear their incessant wingeing and bickering long before you spot them. Up there all hell would break lose as a parent flew by, with all three fledglings launching from their respective perches to give chase to get food from them. This was highly entertaining to witness as it certainly is a spectacular sight to see all the birds in the air at the same time and chasing each other around. It was very sad however that my magical time with the falcons had entered a different phase.

 

Following some very hot calm weather the fledglings decamped again, this time from the hot rocky ridgeline down to cooler climes along the shore of Lake Pukaki. Their loutish behaviour continued as they made the homestead and house paddocks at Ferintosh their playground. Favourite activities included perching on chimneys, flying circuits around the house and garden, pushing each other off the roof and loitering around the henhouse, i.e., generally being very loud and badly behaved teenagers. The house cat and some chooks also had some close encounters of the falcon kind and were lucky to escape alive. Their shenanigans knew no bounds and included hiding in the tree's when I arrived, and then as soon as I'd get in the car to leave, they'd fly circuits around me as I drove off. These birds clearly have a well-developed sense of humour, and finally the boot was on the other foot regarding whether or not I could photograph them! During this ‘loutish phase' the parents only made occasional visits to the fledglings/juveniles as hardly surprisingly they had headed for the hills (Ben Ohau Range) to get some peace and quiet. The owners of Ferintosh undoubtedly felt much the same at this point as their peace had well and truly been shattered by this falcon invasion.

 

In ancient times falcons were revered as the God of the Skies, and from my observations, this is deservedly so. Through my photography of these majestic birds, I wish to raise awareness of the eastern falcon which inhabits the high country of Canterbury and Otago. It is my aim to establish a trust for the purpose of furthering research into the eastern falcon and promoting their conservation.

 

If anyone is interested in supporting the establishment of such a trust, please contact me (falconer.dm@clear.net.nz) or you can check out my website (www.mackenziemagic.net.nz) to see many more falcon images from sojourns to the scrape.

 

Donna Falconer