Voyage to Imja-do

Lonely Korea was offering a day-trip to Imja-do (임자도), site of the annual Shinan Tulip Festival (신안 튤립축제), now in its sixth year.  Imja-do is known as the tulip capital of Korea, and as this was the last day of the festival, we decided we couldn’t miss it.  The trip was only 58,000 won a piece, and included transportation, entry fees, and a barbeque dinner on a private beach on the island.  Could you pass that up?

We met early Sunday morning at the U+ Square Terminal in Gwangju.  There were nine travelers altogether, all of us English teachers, and our trusty guide Pedro Kim.  We hopped on board a large van and left Gwangju by 8am, early enough to avoid any traffic snarls along the way.  It took about an hour to get to the ferry in Sinan-gun, and the ride was pleasant enough.  The forecast for the day was sunny skies and temperatures around 22°C (71°F), with a mild but steady breeze coming from the south.  Not the most ideal conditions for birding during spring migration, but I had high hopes of finding a few interesting birds on the shores of Imja-do.

The island of Imja-do.  The dotted line shows our path across the island to Daegwang Beach and the Shinan Tulip Festival, and also the route to a private beach on the southern shore.

The island of Imja-do.  The dotted line shows our path across the island to Daegwang Beach and the Shinan Tulip Festival, and also the route to a private beach on the southern shore.

Islands are terrific migrant traps, especially small islands far offshore from the mainland.  Migrants flying over the oceans will often stop at the first spot of land they come to, where they will refuel and rest before continuing their journey.  This is especially true during bad weather and storms, where birds will literally fall out of the sky until the storms pass.  A strong head wind will also force many species to land wherever they can – in the spring birders watch for storm fronts and strong winds from the north, which will hamper bird movements northward and cause the mythical “fallouts” that so many birders dream about.  A continuous wind from the south, however, aids the migration, and with clear skies for the whole day, many birds will take advantage of the weather and continue their flight north uninterrupted.

We arrived at the ferry for about 9:30am, early enough to get on the ferry with little delay.  Within minutes we left the dock and made the ten-minute passage to Imja-do.  There was only a little activity on the waters, since the tide was out and the water relatively shallow.  Black-tailed gulls flew back and forth over the water, and there were a few barn swallows near the ferry dock itself.  During our passage I noticed two grey herons flying low over the water towards one of the many small islands along the way.  We were halfway through the crossing when I noticed my first lifer for the day: two Eurasian oystercatchers foraging close to the water on a small rocky island.  The Eurasian oystercatchers closely resemble American oystercatchers, which I am more familiar with, but have black backs as opposed to the brownish backs of American oystercatchers, and a broad white stripe running up the back, which is only visible in flight.  A close-up view will show a red eye, whereas American oystercatchers have yellow eyes.  The birds were too far away to photograph, but I had hoped to find this species on the trip, so I was already grateful that we decided to come.

Upon reaching the other side, we drove across the island to Daegwang Beach and the Tulip Festival grounds.  The island is sparsely populated, with only a few settlements dotted around the landscape.  Farming and fishing support the local economy, and Imja-do is a main supplier of Korea’s salted shrimp.  Since the tide was out, many of the inlets around the island were reduced to vast stretches of mud, but I did not notice much in the way of bird life on these mudflats.

As we arrived at the entrance to the Festival, the wide expanse of the Yellow Sea greeted us.  Colorful flags whipped in the breeze along a causeway leading to the Festival grounds.  And everywhere there were flowers.  Mostly tulips, in every color imaginable, but also pansies and peonies, interspersed with native wildflowers.  The place was alive with color.

Multi-colored flags line the entrance to the Shinan Tulip Festival at Imja-do.

Multi-colored flags line the entrance to the Shinan Tulip Festival at Imja-do.

One of dozens of tulip beds at the Shinan Tulip Festival in Imja-do.

One of dozens of tulip beds at the Shinan Tulip Festival in Imja-do.

A single black tulip hidden in a sea of color.

A single black tulip hidden in a sea of color.

In addition to the wonderful floral displays, the Festival had live music, with a Korean man playing saxophone renditions of everything from the Beach Boys to Britney Spears…certainly a unique soundtrack to wander the Festival by.  There was a small loop where kids could ride horses, and a large observation deck overlooked the whole area.  But the sweet siren song of an endless expanse of empty beach at low tide was too powerful to ignore, and after enjoying the wonderful fragrance of tulips, I just had to move on to Daegwang Beach and see what I could find.

Daegwang Beach at Imja-do, looking out onto the Yellow Sea.

Daegwang Beach at Imja-do, looking out onto the Yellow Sea.

Daegwang Beach is known as the longest beach in South Korea.  It takes about 3 hours to walk the entire length of it, and the sand grain is so fine a car can drive on it at over 100km/h (~65mph).  When I got to the beach, there were only a few other people in sight in either direction.  I started heading north, following the stretch of beach towards a small rocky outcropping.  It wasn’t long before I heard the pipping of shorebirds, and a quick scan of the beach in front of me revealed several Kentish plovers mulling about in the sand.  A few meters away there was a single little ringed plover, the only one of that species I would find here.  The Kentish plovers reminded me of piping plovers from the Atlantic coast.  Being a fan of shorebirds in general, I thought the Kentish plovers were quite striking, in their own way.

One of the nominate Kentish Plovers (Charadrius alexandrinus alexandrinus) on Daegwang Beach at Imja-do.

I would periodically run into small groups of Kentish plovers as I continued down the beach, finding about a dozen altogether, but otherwise there was little activity on the beach.  Although the tide was low, there was little mud or detritus on the sand, and thus I think there was little food to be found for foraging shorebirds.  A few black-tailed gulls were here and there, standing near the surf or gliding over the water.  I came to a large rocky cliff jutting out onto the beach, and beyond that there were several rows of fishing nets set up below the high tide mark.  With the water out the nets were exposed, but when the tide came back in, the nets would be submerged again.  The locals on Imja-do typically harvest their nets twice a day in this manner.

In the distance near the waterline, I saw the outline of about thirty large shorebirds, which appeared to me to be either a species of godwit or curlew.  They were too far away to clearly identify, so the only thing I could do was to get a closer look.  I walked toward the flock, finally getting close enough to identify them as whimbrels.  Whimbrels are a global species, occurring on almost every continent.  However, there are several recognized subspecies, and these whimbrels were clearly different than the North American ones I was used to.  When the birds would fly, I could make out a broad white stripe running from the tail up to about the shoulder.  The bills were also a bit longer and more decurved than North American whimbrels.  I was able to get quite a few good looks at the birds before they eventually flew off down the beach and disappeared.

A “Siberian” Whimbrel (Numenius phaeopus variegatus), showing the white stripe characteristic of this subspecies.

The flock of whimbrels takes to the air at Daegwang Beach in Imja-do.

It was getting near lunch time, so I returned to the Festival entrance and met up with my travel group.  We got back into the van and headed off to the southern part of the island, to a private beach off the beaten track.  We were going to have a barbecue on the beach and enjoy the sun for awhile before returning to Gwangju.  We made a brief stop at a local grocery store for some supplies; there I found three red-rumped swallows flying over the parking lot.  It never ceases to amaze me where I find some of my lifers – two years ago I found my first great-tailed grackles and Brewer’s blackbirds in the parking lot of the Excalibur Casino in Las Vegas.  There I was photographing two birds picking at a bagel in a casino parking lot on the Las Vegas Strip…you can imagine there were a few raised eyebrows that time.

One of three nominate Red-rumped Swallows (Cecropis daurica daurica) at a grocery store in Imja-do.  This bird was building a nest under a nearby house awning.

Taking a small one-lane road into the mountains, we drove along the southern edge of the island to the private beach.  Turning a corner on a mountain pass, there were five cattle egrets roosting in a tree by the ocean.  I asked Pedro to stop the van, and everyone got a great view of these colorful egrets before continuing to the beach.

An “Asian” Cattle Egret (Bubulcus ibis coromandus) near the ocean on Imja-do.

As promised, our private beach was indeed private.  We unpacked our supplies and started up the gas burner to cook lunch.  Pedro had picked up a small package of steak (beef is quite expensive in Korea), and also started cooking some samgyeopsal (삼겹살), a Korean staple of pork belly, similar to bacon.  It is especially good with either BBQ sauce or a red bean paste that is extremely popular in Korea.  Without a doubt I will have to have a case of that paste shipped back home before I leave this country.

Our private beach on the southern end of Imja-do.

Our private beach on the southern end of Imja-do.

We ate our fill, and then took a minor siesta on the beach.  The tide had come back in, and it was a perfect afternoon for a nap in the sand.  After relaxing in the shade, I took a walk down the beach to have a look around.  There were no shorebirds around, but the dunes and vegetation beyond hosted a lot of small passerines seeking shelter from the midday heat.  There were quite a few oriental greenfinches and Eurasian siskins picking through the coniferous trees along the dunes, and in a reedbed I heard two Japanese bush-warblers staking out their territories.  Picking on the ground and in the low shrubs were several black-faced buntings and two pechora pipits.  I could also hear a ring-necked pheasant giving his display call somewhere on a nearby ridge.

We decided to head back to the ferry at around 6pm, having enjoyed a beautiful day at Imja-do.  There was a lineup to board the ferry, as the day’s tourists all had the same idea as we did.  When we finally got on board, the sun was sinking lot over the island.  The ride back to the mainland was just as pleasant as the ride out, with a few black-tailed gulls following the ferry back.  We docked at Gamjeong-ri, where I spotted one Eurasian oystercatcher fly past the ferry to join a grey heron on the rocky shore a ways from the dock.  The final tally was four lifers for the day.  A special thanks goes out to Pedro Kim for leading yet another great trip with Lonely Korea.

The sun falls behind the mountains of Imja-do as our trip comes to an end.

The sun falls behind the mountains of Imja-do as our trip comes to an end.

Exploring Geoje Island (Part II)

The morning dawned bright and early.  It was another beautiful clear day, with only a trace of morning fog far out on the bay, obscuring the view of distant islands near the horizon.  Breakfast would be served for 9:30am, so my first order of the day was to head down to the beach and see what the morning would offer.

 It was relatively cool near the water; with all the mild weather (at least mild as compared to what I was used to in Canada for late March) it was easy to forget that winter was still going on.  My friend the great crested grebe was still foraging close to shore, but I was unable to locate his compatriots or the Pacific loon from yesterday.  The bay itself was relatively empty, with a few Vega gulls and black-tailed gulls flying around.

 Depending on who you talk to, there can be just one species of herring gull or there can be three.  I’ve read some of the research into this, and I tend to lean towards there being three species, rather than just one overarching species for all the herring gulls in the world.  The breakdown of herring gulls (which are split into three species by the International Ornithologists’ Union [IOU] but remain one species by the American Birding Association [ABA]) is the American herring gull (Larus smithsonianus), the European herring gull (Larus argentatus) and the Vega gull (Larus vegae).  Bird nomenclature and taxonomy are constantly in flux, and it can be a full-time job keeping up with all of the revisions, splits, and lumps, which says nothing about having to go through field guides once a year to update the species name and Latin binomial.  Just preparing for my move to South Korea required updating my primary field guide A Field Guide to the Birds of Korea by Lee Woo-Shin, Koo Tae-Hoe, and Park Jin-Young.  The whole process took several weeks, but considering it was published in 2000 and is the only English-language field guide available for the Korean peninsula specifically, it was worth the effort.  I supplemented this guide with the more recent Birds of East Asia by Mark Brazil, which functions as a great cross-reference book for subspecies identification and recent splits that Birds of Korea doesn’t even have plates for.  But I digress…

The bay was quiet, so I turned my attention to the cliff edge above me.  There was sparse vegetation on the cliff face, but a small gully near the base of the cliff provided some ground for a few small trees and shrubs to take root.  It was here that I found the bulk of my birds for the morning.  It started with hearing the call of a varied tit, by far the most colorful and interesting tit (or chickadee, for my North American friends) anywhere, in my opinion anyway.  The tit was singing high on the top of the cliff, but eventually began working his way down to the beach.  It took a lot of waiting, but I finally got a shot of this striking bird.

A nominate subspecies Varied Tit (Sittiparus varius varius) at Nambu-myeon.

There was also a lone vinous-throated parrotbill, which I found odd as I rarely encounter this species without at least a dozen of his closest friends in tow.  The parrotbill is a very social and gregarious bird, and often forms flocks of 40+ birds when foraging.  I noticed a small skulking bird in some hanging vegetation, and at first I thought it was another parrotbill.  But finally getting it in the binoculars revealed its true identity as a Japanese white-eye!  And shortly after I found another white-eye foraging nearby.  The white-eyes resemble bright yellow-green vireos with huge white eye rings.  They are very distinct, but their small size makes them hard to locate in dense vegetation.

This menagerie of birds was scattered when a flock of large-billed crows, until then staying high over the cliffs, descended in a flurry of activity and cawing that sent the smaller birds undercover.  A couple of crows took up position on a large snag, and I got off a few shots before they flew down the beach to join a larger group picking at scraps of trash left on the beach.

Two Large-billed Crows (Corvus macrorhynchos mandschuricus) near the private beach at Nambu-myeon.

I left the beach to have my breakfast, and soon after our group was packed up and loaded onto the bus.  We were scheduled to take a ferry ride to the Haegeumgang formation, then skip over to Oedo to view the botanical gardens.  Our bus took us through Nambu-myeon along a coastal road that gave us all excellent views of the coastline.  We arrived at the ferry at around 10:15am under beautiful skies.  It was forecast to become cloudy by midday, but thus far there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  We were a bit early for the ferry, so we spent some time admiring the view of Haegeumgang from a quaint patio overlooking the ferry dock.  I found a single white-cheeked starling in the parking lot by the ferry, and an oriental greenfinch near the patio.  Otherwise it was the ever-present large-billed crows and a few Eurasian magpies and brown-eared bulbuls.

A map of Nambu-myeon, with the locations of Haegeumgang and Oedo Botanica.  The dotted line shows our route from the pension to the ferry,  and the route the ferry took around Haegeumgang towards Oedo.

A map of Nambu-myeon, with the locations of Haegeumgang and Oedo Botanica.  The dotted line shows our route from the pension to the ferry, and the route the ferry took around Haegeumgang towards Oedo.

The ferry dock and the Haegeumgang.

The ferry dock and the Haegeumgang.

At long last our ferry was ready to depart, and we were quickly escorted aboard.  There are many ferries that go around the Haegeumgang formation.  The formation has dozens of caves carved into it after centuries of ocean erosion.  When the ocean is calm, the ferry pilots challenge one another to bring their boats in the closest to these caves.  It’s a rather harrowing experience as a passenger, but the pilots’ skill is unrivaled and they maneuver their boats to within a few feet of the Haegeumgang cliffs.

I think our pilot would have brought us in closer, if only the cave was large enough to accommodate more of the ship...

I think our pilot would have brought us in closer, if only the cave was large enough to accommodate more of the ship…

After experiencing the Haegeumgang close up, we circled around the edge of the formation, taking in the amazing geology and enjoying the cool ocean air.  Flocks of black-tailed gulls followed our ship everywhere it went, and I also saw a great crested grebe and a brief glimpse of a Pacific reef-heron around the edge of the Haegeumgang formation.  As we left the formation behind on our way to Oedo, I noticed a congregation of great cormorants roosting on the cliffs above.

One of the Black-tailed Gulls following our ferry towards Oedo.

A few of the locals would throw crackers and dried fish to the gulls, attracting more and more of them as we made our way to Oedo.

Great Cormorants (Phalacrocorax carbo sinensis) on the cliffs of the Haegeumgang.

Great Cormorants (Phalacrocorax carbo sinensis) on the cliffs of the Haegeumgang.

On the crossing to Oedo, I noticed a raft of Pacific loons, about seventeen in all, but otherwise it was just the black-tailed gulls escorting us to Oedo.  Years ago, the Korean government began selling off the small islands off the coast to private owners.  The buyers of Oedo, being nature-lovers, turned it into a botanical garden, and now the island, opened to the public, is a popular tourist destination and source of income for the local economy.

We had about an hour on Oedo before we had to return to the mainland and begin the long trip back to Gwangju, so I split from the group to make the most of it.  There was a continuous sea of people over the entirety of the gardens, and most were dressed just as colorfully as the flowers and plants.  The skies were beginning to darken with clouds, but the fresh blossoms and flowers still lent plenty of color to the greying environment.

Tulips at Oedo Botanica.

Tulips at Oedo Botanica.

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A view of the Oedo Botanica.  This view only covers one section of the gardens.

A view of the Oedo Botanica.  This view only covers one section of the gardens.

With so many people around, the birds were laying low.  On three occasions I heard a beautiful melody being sung from the vegetation, but I could not locate the bird no matter how hard I looked.  I’m sure I raised some eyebrows with the Koreans: who was this strange foreigner with binoculars staring into a mess of branches for minutes at a time?  After two failed attempts to locate the source of this beautiful song, I was beginning to get frustrated.  At the summit of a small hill overlooking the whole of the island, I found eight Pacific swifts making aerial maneuvers above the island.  These large swifts have long forked tails and white rumps.  They are one of the largest swifts in Korea, second only to the white-throated needletail.  The long forked tail distinguishes them from the smaller house swift.

I was enjoying watching the swifts, a new species and the first swift species to be added to my list since 2008, when I heard that song coming from below me in the Venus Garden.  I hauled it over to the garden, determined to find the source of this song and check off another species.  It didn’t take long to zero in on the right tree, and finally I was able to get a glimpse of my quarry: a Japanese bush-warbler!  Old World warblers are a large family of relatively drab, uninteresting, and extremely similar-looking birds that have remarkably beautiful songs.  They are the equivalents of our North American wood-warblers that thrill birders during the spring migration, but the Old World varieties more resemble our sparrows than the colorful birds that delight us in the spring.  Nevertheless, I was thrilled to see the bush-warbler, even if it looked just like a red-eyed vireo without the red eye.  The bird darted into a low shrub, providing me a brief chance to get a photo before disappearing into the garden.  Surely this is one song that I won’t forget in a hurry.

A Japanese Bush-warbler in the Venus Garden at Oedo Botanica.  This rather drab bird has the most melodious song.

A Japanese Bush-warbler (Horornis diphone cantans) in the Venus Garden at Oedo Botanica.  This rather drab bird has the most melodious song.

Alas, the hour flew by, and I had to return to the ferry to catch my boat back to the mainland.  Before returning to Gwangju, we stopped for dinner in a different part of Nambu-myeon, where we had some delicious 김치 찌개 (kimchi jjigae), a style of stew made with Korea’s world-famous kimchi.  The soup is nice, flavorful, and spicy, and it really hits the spot on an increasingly damp and cold day.  Before leaving Geoje Island, I spotted a sign for the Hallyeo Haesang National Park (한려해상국립공원-거제), which is a known breeding ground for the elusive fairy pitta.  The Park is the only location on the Korean peninsula where this species can be reliably located; only Jeju-do and Jindo Island to the south are better spots for this species.

Methinks a return trip to Geoje is already in the making…

Exploring Geoje Island (Part I)

When I first arrived in South Korea, and was in contact with the former English teacher I was replacing at my school, she told me that if I travel around Korea, travel with Pedro Kim.  I didn’t understand her advice at first, but one afternoon Melanie was searching Facebook and found an ad for a trip to Geoje Island through Lonely Korea, and sure enough, there was Pedro’s name as the trip leader.  I’ll start by saying that, if you’re planning on visiting South Korea, or are new to the country and don’t know how to get around, travel with Pedro Kim.  He has more contacts around the country than I can imagine, and knows how to plan ahead and make sure everything is taken care of, whether it be accommodations, food, entry fees, transportation…you name it, he’s already thought of it.  And you can’t go wrong with the prices.  One thing I’ve learned since moving to South Korea is that it’s unbelievably cheap to get around here, at least as compared to North America.  The buses are fast, on-time, and clean (although they don’t have on-board restrooms, but the bus will usually make a few pit stops along the way), there is no hassle with security checkpoints, invasive baggage searches, X-ray scanning, etc. etc. etc., and with the exception of some of the smaller settlements in the less-populated provinces, almost the entire country is accessible by public transportation.

So when we saw a two-day, one-night stay at Geoje Island (거제시), all expenses paid for only 138,000 won each (about $140 USD), we were sold.  We were slated to stay in a small pension (a type of Korean hostel, but more resembles a B&B in style and facilities) right on the shore, with access to a small private pebble beach.  The trip also included a ferry ride around the famous Haegeumgang (거제해금강), massive rock formation just off the coast of Geoje Island, and a stop at the botanical gardens on Oedo Island (외도 보타니아-해상관광농원).

Map of Geoje Island.

Map of Geoje Island.

With our itinerary set and bags packed, Melanie and I met our bus at the U+ Square Terminal in downtown Gwangju early Saturday morning.  There were about 30 people registered for this trip, the majority of them foreign English teachers from Gwangju and Yeosu, and there were about a half-dozen of our friends from our orientation group going as well.  The ride out to Geoje took about 3½ hours, following the Honam Expressway along the southern coast.  We arrived at Geoje around 1pm that afternoon and stopped at a famous Indian restaurant in Jangpyeong-dong.  This section of Geoje has a large foreigner population, and hosts some well-known and delicious foreign cuisine restaurants.  Since leaving Ottawa in February, Melanie and I were craving Indian food once again, so this was a special treat and welcome change from kimchi and rice.

After lunch, we had a few minutes to enjoy the harbor in Jangpyeong-dong before heading on to our destination in Nambu-myeon, on the other side of the island.  Geoje Island hosts several major shipbuilding ports, and serves as the center of the Korean shipbuilding industry.  The major builders are Hyundai and Samsung Heavy Industries (SHI), and Korean-built cargo ships are among the best in the world.  The restaurant was situated near the SHI Shipyard, and we could see two large cargo ships still under construction in the harbor.  The tide must have been out, because the water was down, creating some mudflats near the harborfront.  There were three smallish gulls near the shore, which I quickly identified as slaty-backed gulls.  A fourth gull was flying around, quite lighter on the mantle than the others.  Getting a good look at the primaries, which had a large white spot on the first and second primary, surrounded by a dark black fading to light grey, I realized it was a mew gull of the kamchatschensis subspecies.  The harbor had more surprises in store, including several eastern spot-billed ducks further out in the shallows, accompanying a pair of northern pintails and mallards.  A little egret and grey heron skulked close to the rocky shore looking for food.  As I was watching the ducks, a large-billed crow flew in and began picking at a piece of dried seaweed.  It was then that I noticed a small shorebird scuttling in and out of the rocks near the harbor.  A quick look through the binoculars revealed it to be a little ringed plover.  Just a few minutes by a harbor brought in four lifers!  Before getting on the bus, I noticed a single horned grebe way out in the harbor, diving for food on its own.  We boarded the bus fully satisfied by our meal, and by the good fortune in birds.

A Large-billed Crow (Corvus macrorhynchos) grabs a meal near the SHI Shipyard in Jangpyeong-dong.

A Large-billed Crow (Corvus macrorhynchos) grabs a meal near the SHI Shipyard in Jangpyeong-dong.

We continued our journey to Nambu-myeon, taking a winding road into the mountains at the center of the island.  The views were spectacular, especially when a sharp curve on the road would suddenly reveal a glorious panorama of the island, showing the rocky coasts jutting out of a clear blue ocean.  The roads were very narrow and there were few pull-offs large enough to accommodate a parked bus, but the views were incredible and I give a lot of credit to the driver for being able to maneuver the monstrous bus on such a treacherous roadway.

At last we arrived in Nambu-myeon, and unloaded our things into our rooms.  Melanie and I were paired with another couple from Gwangju, and our room was on the second floor of the pension, with a beautiful view of the ocean with rocky outcrops jutting up from the water.  It was nearing the evening hours by the time we were settled and unpacked, so I grabbed my binoculars and camera and headed down to the private beach to have a look around.  There was a few Korean families on the beach, but it was mostly empty save for about two dozen large-billed crows picking at a pile of garbage near a boat ramp.  I would discover during this trip that large-billed crows were the dominate species on the island, easily being the most common bird I saw during the trip.

Our private beach at Nambu-myeon.  Who's that weird guy looking out over the ocean with binoculars?  Oh, that's me...

Our private beach at Nambu-myeon.  Who’s that weird guy looking out over the ocean with binoculars?  Oh, that’s me…

There were no shorebirds on the beach, but I did manage to find a great crested grebe diving close to shore.  Every so often it would resurface and let me get a few quick photos before moving out to deeper water.  Looking further offshore, I found several more great crested grebes and a single Pacific loon near a large rock outcropping on the other side of the bay.  I loved watching the grebe – it reminded me so much of the western and Clark’s grebes I had seen in Nevada back in 2011, just by the shape of the neck and the long bill.  It’s interesting that the great crested grebe, being in the genus Podiceps, is more closely related to the diminutive pied-billed grebe than either the western or Clark’s grebes (genus Aechmophorus) that it so closely resembles.

A Great Crested Grebe (Podiceps cristatus) on the ocean near Nambu-myeon.

A Great Crested Grebe (Podiceps cristatus) on the ocean near Nambu-myeon.

A group of us decided to take a walk through Nambu-myeon, checking out some more of the village and seeing more of the rocky coastline before nightfall.  There wasn’t much variety in bird life at this hour, and the only other species of note that I saw was a single white wagtail on another private beach along the way, more large-billed crows, and a handful of Eurasian tree sparrows.  But what was lacking in wildlife was made up for with amazing venues of rock and water.  The coastline of Geoje Island is amazing: sheer cliffs of rock dropping into the ocean in every direction.  The setting sun gave us plenty of chances to make a study on the effect of dwindling light on rock.  There are times I wish I would give up the chase and become a landscape photographer – the landscape doesn’t move or get startled and fly away.  Thoughts like these are usually short-lived, or forgotten entirely when my eye catches something small and feathery dart out from the periphery.

The majestic coastline of Geoje Island.

The majestic coastline of Geoje Island.

The sun set on the first day of our adventure.  Our group spent the evening enjoying a barbeque on the pension patio, overlooking the private beach.  A few of us stayed up late to roast marshmallows over an open fire pit.  As we went to bed, the promise of a new day (and new birds) awaited…