Cape Recife

African darter

This was written in August, 2002. The published version was not kept and I have been unable to track it down.

ONE of the great bird-watching experiences is to visit a hide on the edge of a dam or pond, where you can get a magnificent view of waterbirds, both large and small.

And Port Elizabeth is fortunate to have just such a place, at the Cape Recife reclamation ponds.

In mid-August, with a cool sea breeze taking the edge off the mid-morning heat, we arrived at the reserve’s car park. As we crested the last speed bump, I saw a large bird fly into the bushes – judging by its red wings almost certainly a Knysna lourie, though it seemed an unlikely place to spot one.

We eschewed taking the path through the largely rooikrans-covered dunes due to the amount of standing water about, but followed the tar road along the coast till we found the path leading to the hide. Our first treat along this approximately 100-metre path was a delightful spotted prinia (about 12cm), which kept up a jolly, piercing call just a few metres away from us – and seemed totally unfazed by our presence.

Luke surveys the grassy bank of one of the reclamation ponds from the hide at Cape Recife.

Black crake

But we had come for the waterbirds, and the hide was to live up to its reputation. Scanning the edges, we were rewarded with a short but treasured sighting of a black crake, its long thin red legs and yellow bill conspicuous as it scurried among the reeds.

Common moorhen

My son Luke, 11, after a break from birding of several months, quickly identified a common moorhen on the water, along with a fairly large number of red-knobbed coots. This is a black duck-like bird with two red knobs on the forehead above its white beak. We were surprised to spot several without the knobs, but our bird book confirmed they were juveniles of the species.

African shelduck pair

Cape teal

Cape shoveller

Yellow-billed duck

To our right, a couple of dabchicks (just 20cm long) ducked and dived, while we also spotted a beautiful pair of shelducks (the male with a grey head, the female white), Cape teals (red bills), Cape shovellers and yellow-billed ducks. Just metres from the hide, on an outjutting piece of dead wood, we had a perfect view of a pied kingfisher.

Then, in one of the more unusual sightings, a huge African darter (80cm) started “fishing” in the middle of the pond. Also known as a snake bird, the darter submerged its entire body as it paddled along, holding erect its long, orange-streaked, egret-like neck with a slender head and long, pointed bill.

It looked like a snake defying gravity, before it darted its beak into the water and caught a tiny fish, which it tossed down its throat.

As if this wasn’t dramatic enough, we were also provided with another avian spectacle – in the sky above us. As usual, the pond boasted a number of kelp gulls, along with a few grey-headed gulls. But suddenly above us we saw about a dozen gulls, with what looked like a larger gull in their midst. Through the binoculars, however, we discovered that the gulls were in the process of chasing a juvenile African fish eagle. Luke, ever observant, identified the eagle’s unique call. It was no match for the flock of gulls, and beat a hasty retreat, which was sad, since it would have been great to see the eagle at closer quarters.

In 2002 an invasive water lettuce covered the top pond at Cape Recife, driving water birds away.

But when we got to the second, upper pond, which is considerably larger than the lower one, we saw the possible reason for this battle for water territory. The entire pond is now covered with the water lettuce which first made its invasive appearance earlier this year. Instead of a pond, it looks more like a rugby field.

I later spoke to Dr Paul Martin, nature conservation manager for the Nelson Mandela metropole municipality, about the water lettuce (pistia stratiotes). The good news is that in early July they released 240 snout weevils (nedhy-dronomus assinis) into the upper pond. While relieved that the lettuce hasn’t spread to the lower pond, he said it would take about a year before there was a noticeable reduction of the plant in the top pond.

The weevil population is expected to grow rapidly in the spring, and will eventually start eating up the invasive weed. But the bad news is it won’t destroy it completely. Dr Martin said based on a similar situation at Sunset Dam in the Kruger Park, a cycle will develop whereby the weed will regrow rapidly, and then the weevil population will increase to consume it.

Asked whether the water lettuce had affected fish stocks in the pond, he said there had been no evidence of fish dying from lack of oxygen. While the open water bird species, like coots and moorhens, had either moved to the lower pond or to other habitats such as North End Lake or the Swartkops ponds, he said birds which lived among the reeds seemed to have stayed put.

Sacred ibis

After the shock of seeing the top pond in such a bad way, we walked back past the hide as a flock of sacred ibises – with their long black bills and black-outlined white wings – flew overhead.

Then we headed for the sea.

That is the beauty of Cape Recife. You get seabirds right alongside freshwater birds. And there were a few other surprises in store as well. Like the pair of black-collared barbets we saw, sitting openly on a telephone line, after Luke had identified their call. With bright crimson throats and thick bills, these are among the most spectacular birds around.

African black oystercatcher

Ruddy turnstone

It was low tide, and as we walked along the rocks, with Luke and brother Douglas, 9, seeking out anemones and starfish, we spotted several African black oystercatchers and a couple of turnstones and whimbrels among the gulls.

Cape gannet

Looking with the binoculars out to sea, as the offshore wind blew the spray back off the crests of waves, a pelagic feast was under way. Scores of Cape gannets, the black tips of their wings clearly visible, plummeted headlong into the sea. Closer to shore, various species of tern added to the spectacle.

We returned to the sandy beach where we saw a tall, elegant, grey heron wading through the dune scrub in search of tasty morsels. But mostly it just stood there, perfectly still, like a graceful, living statue.

Walking back to the car, we could see evidence of how areas of the original Cape St Francis dune-scrub fynbos mosaic, endemic to a 100km coastal strip including Cape Recife, is gradually taking back areas where the exotic rooikrans – planted in 1899 to stabilise the vast dune system on the peninsular – has been cleared.

Cape Recife is a treasure, and it is hoped that its best feature – its undeveloped, natural simplicity – will be respected and retained should the planned Madiba Bay project ever come to fruition.