Spotlight: Gageo-do

Having spent a long weekend at Eocheong-do this past spring, I decided to check out another of Korea’s numerous islands for the long weekend over the Chuseok holiday.  The destination was Gageo-do (가거도), the most remote island in South Korea.  Situated some 140 kilometers from the port city of Mokpo-si (목포시), Gageo-do is the most westerly point in the entire country.  Continue reading for some logistics.

Trail map of Gageo-do

GETTING THERE

Gageo-do is as far away from mainland Korea as you can get, and still be in the country.  There is only one ferry that services the island, and only one departure per day.  The ferry leaves from the Mokpo Port Coastal Terminal daily at 8:10AM; tickets will cost approximately 55,000₩; slightly less for the return voyage.  The trip will last around 4½ to 5 hours, depending on weather conditions, and the ferry will stop at a number of islands on the way to Gageo-do.  Tickets can be ordered ahead of time or purchased on the day of your trip; be sure to check the ferry schedule before heading out to Mokpo.  As always, you will need a photo ID to purchase your tickets and board the ferry – for non-Koreans, a passport or ARC card will suffice.

Gageodo-ri, the main village
­­© Blake Bouchard

WHERE TO STAY

Gageo-do is a very small island community.  Although there are officially three “villages” on the island, the total population is just over 400.  Gageodo-ri, the main and largest of the three villages, is where you will disembark on your arrival.  Unless you’ve already made other arrangements, you best bet at finding a place to stay is here.  There is a selection of accommodations, including a motel, several pension (펜션), and minbak (민박).  Prices will vary, but expect to pay around 40,000 – 60,000₩ per night.

Our pension in Gageodo-ri
© Blake Bouchard

The second village is called Hangri-maeul, and lies on the southwestern end of Gageo-do.  It is connected to Gageodo-ri by a paved roadway.  Hangri-maeul is considerably smaller than Gageodo-ri, but there is at least one minbak where you can stay.  There is also a small restaurant, but it was not open due to the Chuseok holiday.  Hangri-maeul is about a 5 kilometer hike from Gageodo-ri; there are no taxis on the island, but you may be able to hitch a ride with a local resident – there may be a fee associated with this.

Sign for Hangri-maeul, the second village on Gageo-do
© Blake Bouchard

The village of Hangri-maeul

The third and final village is called Sam-gu, and it is located on the opposite side of the island from Gageodo-ri, approximately 9 kilometers away.  It can be accessed by a roadway leading through the interior; you could also hire a boat to take you there, or hike from Hangri-maeul along the coastline.  Although Sam-gu is larger than Hangri-maeul, while we explored the village we did not see a single resident, even though air conditioners were working and there was a faint smell of something cooking around some of the residences.  We did not notice any accommodations or restaurants, but the ghost town like atmosphere was not particularly inviting of further exploration.

The village of Sam-gu

WHAT TO BRING

The main economy of Gageo-do, like most Korean islands, is fishing.  So non-Koreans will definitely want to bring some food, especially for breakfast if rice, kimchi, and fish are not your thing.  There are plenty of restaurants available in the villages, but the main course will likely be fish or seafood.  Even though something appears on the menu (or on the storefront window) doesn’t necessarily mean that it is available when you order it.

Many islands are a cash-only economy.  While you may be able to pay with a card, or find an available ATM, it is advisable to bring plenty of cash with you.  Even if you are lucky enough to find an ATM on the island, it probably won’t work, or will only have a small amount of cash available.  

WHAT TO DO

Gageo-do has a thriving fishing industry, and among Koreans the island is known as a sports fisherman’s destination.  Many of the locals offer charter fishing services around the island; prices will vary depending on the owner of the vessel and your skill in haggling, but expect to pay around 100,000₩ per person.

If fishing isn’t your thing, the island does have several hiking trails crisscrossing the mountainous interior, or hugging the rugged coastline.  Be advised, however, that these hiking trails are not maintained and can get pretty difficult.  The interior mountains are very steep, and the trails consist of moss-laden boulders and slippery stones.  It is advisable to wear long pants and sturdy boats, or run the risk of getting torn up on thorny shrubbery.

There are a few pebble beaches around Gageo-do.  There are two large ones just to the east of Gageodo-ri; another secluded one can be found in Hangri-maeul.  Swimming in the ocean is not particularly high on the list of Korean past times, so you may very well have these beaches entirely to yourself.  If there are any locals or Korean tourists around, however, be prepared to be watched like a hawk as you enjoy the surf.

The swimming beach lies far below Hangri-maeul
© Blake Bouchard

A view from one of the beaches at Gageodo-ri
© Blake Bouchard

Overall, Gageo-do is a unique location with a tight-knit community.  You will feel like a minor celebrity as you walk the small, twisting alleyways of Gageodo-ri.  Korean island communities are by far the friendliest that I’ve come across – just remember to be open-minded.  Please check out my friend’s blog for more information on our trip to Gageo-do.  I’ll discuss the bird aspect of the trip in another installment.

Rain & Rice

It’s the rainy season here in South Korea.  This year is being called the dry rainy season; it rains, but not nearly in the quantities that are normal.  Most days are characterized by overcast skies and that hanging feeling – it’s really humid and feels like it will pour at any second, but it doesn’t.

Not the kind of weather you want to go birding in.

I had been antsy the past few weeks.  I hadn’t been getting out much, I hadn’t been photographing much, and I hadn’t birded at all.  So despite those ominous clouds on Saturday morning, Melanie and I headed out to Gwangjuho Lake Ecological Park, hoping a change in scenery might do us some good.

The Eco-Park had undergone some “improvements” since my last visit a few months ago.  Several sections had been landscaped and replanted; in usual Korean style, it had been started and finished in a matter of days and there was no trace that anything had been done.

New plantings at Gwangjuho Lake Eco-Park.
This area had previously been an empty meadow just a few weeks ago.

The park held several families of azure-winged magpies.  We saw numerous adults foraging for food to bring to the gaping mouths of their offspring.  One group of four fledglings mobbed their parents whenever one of the adults came in with food.  Even among siblings, competition for food is fierce.

Sibling rivalry
Azure-winged Magpie (Cyanopica cyanus koreensis)

An adult Azure-winged Magpie, looking for food in the humid afternoon

There was more evidence of successful breeding throughout the park.  We saw several small groups of juvenile Japanese tits flitting about in the trees.  Near the entrance to the park were two juvenile grey-headed woodpeckers, the likely offspring of the Eco-Park’s resident pair.  These younger woodpeckers lacked most of the adults’ green coloration, appearing overall grey with a hint of green on the tail feathers.  The two juveniles kept in constant contact with each other and the adults by making short whistles.

Juvenile Grey-headed Woodpecker (Picus canus jessoensis)

We continued deeper into the park, finding small numbers of birds in little pockets throughout the area.  A large flock of vinous-throated parrotbills, full of juvenile birds, was the biggest single sighting we had all day.  The flock numbered around 40-50 birds; not an uncommon number for this time of year.  The boardwalk around the northern edge of the park was very quiet, with only a few Japanese tits and passing oriental turtle-doves.

A section of the boardwalk.  There was very little water here, despite the extensive growth of reeds and grasses.

Gwangjuho Lake itself was a shadow of itself.  The water level was down tens of meters, with an exposed lake bed stretching off into the distance.  Most of this muddy, nutrient-rich land had transformed into a field of low vegetation.  Gwangjuho Lake is artificial, serving as a primary reservoir for the surrounding area.  The water is used for drinking and agriculture, and its low level reflects the planting of the first round of rice for the growing season.

At the distant edge of the water we could see grey herons, great egrets, and little egrets taking advantage of the newly exposed mud.  Little ringed plovers, a breeding shorebird in the park, could be heard calling intermittently from across the lake bed.  We even spotted an immature Eurasian hobby patrolling the area, and making a successful grab at an unidentified prey.

Little Ringed Plover (Charadrius dubius curonicus)

Hidden in the short vegetation on the lake bed were small damselflies.  It seemed like there were thousands of them, quickly flitting about and disappearing in the greenery.  Larger dragonflies, namely black-tailed skimmers and wandering gliders skimmed across small pools of water.  We found numerous exuviae in the mud, evidence that many of the dragonflies we saw were newly emerged adults.

Dusky Lilysquatter (Paracercion calamorum)

Eastern Lilysquatter (Paracercion melanotum)

We completed our loop around the Eco-Park, scoring a few more species for our efforts.  Black-naped orioles were singing lazily in the humid air.  A family of bull-headed shrikes chased one another around, and juvenile pale thrushes begged for food from a single adult bird.  We took a break from the heat near a grove of metasequoia trees, lounging in the shade as the heat of the day wore on.

The Metasequoia Grove at Gwangjuho Lake

Dryad (Minois dryas)

On our way out of the Eco-Park, I noticed a small black dragonfly perched on some tall cattails by one of the lily ponds.  It turned out to be a butterfly skimmer, one of my favorite Asian dragonflies.  Also flying around the cattails were two species of damselfly, both identified only by their Latin names.

Butterfly Skimmer (Rhyothemis fuliginosa)

Ceriagrion melanurum

Ceriagrion nipponicum

After spending several hours at the Eco-Park, Melanie and I decided to visit one of the small restaurants across the street from the Park entrance.  We had discovered a small place during our last visit, which makes an excellent pajeon (파전).  Pajeon is a type of pancake, whose main ingredient is green onions.  A good pajeon will have grilled onions, green onions, maybe some peppers, and usually a type of seafood like calamari.  For a mere 8,000W (~$8), we got a huge pajeon and several side dishes (as is Korean custom).

Our half-eaten pajeon with a few side dishes.  This delicious Korean pancake doesn’t last long…

Before heading back home, we decided to stroll around Chunghyo-dong and see the many rice paddies in the area.  The rural area in Chunghyo-dong is much like rural areas anywhere in Korea: rice paddies stretch off into the distance and take up any flat land that is available.  I’ve often thought of Korea as having only three habitats: city, mountain, and rice paddy.

Rice paddies in Chunghyo-dong

However, the monoculture of rice paddies can be deceiving.  Wildlife still manages to keep a tenuous toehold in this environment.  Herons like striated heron, cattle egrets and great egrets make use of the shallow water to catch small fish and crustaceans.  Grey wagtails can be found along the drainage ditches connecting the separate cells of the paddies.  We even discovered four dollarbirds perched high above the rice paddies, scanning the area from a high-voltage power line that straddled the mountain valley.  Insects like dragonflies and damselflies also benefit from the shallow water, using the sheltered paddies to lay their eggs.

The highlight of our walk through the rice paddies was an adult Chinese sparrowhawk.  I’ve seen this species several times before, but always soaring high overhead.  This was the first one that I’ve found perched, and so was able to get a few photos before it flew off.

Chinese Sparrowhawk (Accipiter soloensis)

After spending nearly half the day in Chunghyo-dong, we caught the hourly 187 bus back to Gwangju.  Overall we observed 32 species of bird, 7 species of butterfly, and 10 species of dragonfly and damselfly.  A complete list of the birds seen can be found here and here.

On Gossamer Wings

Mid-June through to mid-August marks my brief hiatus from the birding world.  The desire is there, but unfortunately the birds usually are not.  They’re busy making the next generation, and later, preparing for the long journey back to their southern wintering grounds.

So in the “dog days of birding,” I turn my attentions to butterflies and dragonflies.  While I don’t go after these creatures with the same flair and gusto as my avian obsession, I still enjoy discovering new species and finding unexpected surprises.  The identifications are a lot more challenging (especially with dragon- and damselflies, which often are only differentiated by the most minute details), but it’s the challenge that keeps it interesting.

Below I present a sampling of some of my latest discoveries.  I’ve taken a real interest in the Lycaenidae family of butterflies, the small gossamer-wing species for which this post is titled.  They are quite amazing in their delicate beauty, and test my abilities both with identification and photography.

Antigius attilia
Geoje-si, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea

Taiwan Wave-eye (Ypthima multistriata)
Geoje-si, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea

Aeromachus inachus
Geoje-si, Gyeongsangnam-do, South Korea

Holly Blue (Celastrina argiolus)
Gakhwa Reservoir, Gwangju, South Korea

Wide-bellied Skimmer (Lyriothemis pachygastra)
Gwangjuho Lake Eco-Park, Gwangju, South Korea

Wide-bellied Skimmer (Lyriothemis pachygastra)
Gwangjuho Lake Eco-Park, Gwangju, South Korea

Getting Fiver

Before I came to Korea, when I was still in the planning stages, I created a short list of the Top 5 Must-See Birds in Korea.  The birds were not ranked in any particular order, though a few were more “important” than others.  The list was:

      1.  Spoon-billed Sandpiper
      2.  Japanese Waxwing
      3.  Fairy Pitta
      4.  Eurasian Hoopoe
      5.  Japanese Paradise-flycatcher

The rationale for inclusion on this list was different for each species.  Some are incredibly rare (#1); others serve a particular purpose in my listing (#2); still others are just really interesting and/or unusual birds that I didn’t want to miss (#3-5).

The search has been exciting, but ticking off these species has been slow-going.  They weren’t chosen because they were easy to find; on the contrary, all but one of these species also make an appearance on another list, the IUCN Red List.  But it’s always been the chase that drives us…

Only two birds have so far been ticked off this list.  The first was the Fairy Pitta: a lone male bird was singing in a small mountain valley along the Wellbeing Hiking Trail on Jeop-do in June 2013.  I have since located five more separate individuals, but alas, a visual opportunity has yet eluded me.  The second bird was the Japanese Waxwing: again, a lone bird viewed at a distance on Eocheong-do this past May.  I hope to see and photograph this species in Korea or Japan this coming winter.

Still, despite nearly 2 years of searching, I’ve only had repeated encounters where the best I can get is an audio recording (no visual), or a glimpse through binoculars at nearly 100 meters.

So it was that I joined birding friends Jason Loghry and Mike Friel on an epic journey to track down that most elusive fairy pitta (Jason had never actually seen one either), and hopefully pick up a Japanese paradise-flycatcher along the way.  We had a few sites staked out for the fairy pitta, and the birds were surely there, but once again managed to elude being seen.  We were quite frustrated after encountering three individual birds, and nary a glimpse was had of any of them.

We continued on, crestfallen and sullen, to a small uninteresting roadside stream, where Mike had observed paradise-flycatchers breeding the previous summer.  We took an overgrown trail along the road, descending in a small valley with the stream at the base.  A Korean water deer, unaware of our presence, walked right towards us, then started and disappeared as we tried to angle our cameras onto this spectacular animal.  That’s when we heard it…

A throaty sound, like a dry cough.  Followed by a melodious series of whistles.  Japanese paradise-flycatcher!

A little searching located a splendid male flitting around the treetops, appearing as a large butterfly.  The dense foliage frequently obscured our views, but the bird finally stopped on a semi-open branch long enough to really observe him.  What a glorious bird!

Japanese Paradise-flycatcher (Terpsiphone atrocaudata)

I was taking an audio recording of the bird, when we heard the same song coming from the opposite direction.  There were two male birds, counter-singing to each other.  The second male remained unseen, but we heard him singing intermittently throughout our time at the site.  It was one of the most memorable bird outings of the month.  Despite missing multiple chances at seeing a fairy pitta, the Japanese paradise-flycatcher more than made up for it.

Only two more species remain on the Top 5 List.  I should be able to get Spoon-billed Sandpiper during its fall migration in late August.  The Eurasian Hoopoe on the other hand, may be a lost cause (at least until my summer vacation trip to China).  The search continues…

The Secret Migration

The annual spring bird migration often steals the spotlight in May and early June, and why shouldn’t it?  The majority of the world’s bird species embark on incredible journeys every year, frequently travelling further in a single season than many of us do in several years.

But birds aren’t the only things that migration during this time of year.  There’s something I’ve discovered during my incessant birding, and that is how birding lifts our filters on reality.  I used to have conversations with a close birding friend in Ottawa about “filters,” and the different levels we had experienced.  I’m not talking about filters for camera equipment; that’s another post for another day.  In this case, “filters” refer to our awareness of our surroundings.  Birding trains you to pay very close attention to details, even with momentary glimpses.  A tiny disturbance in a dense thicket, barely noticeable, can often reveal a hidden bird or nest that can easily be overlooked.

As I’ve trained myself to be a better birder by removing more and more filters, and being more aware of Nature and my surroundings, I’ve inadvertently discovered entire worlds of creatures and critters that were always there, but I didn’t have eyes to see them.  They were “filtered.”

As June begins and the bird migration comes to an end (for now), I redirect my attention to these secret worlds.  Many insects embark on migrations, of a sort.  While these are nowhere near as enormous in scope as the bird migration, it is no less a part of what defines spring in many people’s minds.  How bleak would a backyard garden seem without intricate butterflies flitting about?

Here are a selection of photos documenting this “secret migration.”  Several butterfly species arrive on the Korean peninsula as early as February, but the species shown here were all found in and around Gwangju, South Korea, throughout April and May.

Luehdorfia puziloi
Mudeungsan National Park, Gwangju, South Korea

I’ve found this species on the slopes of Mt. Mudeung before, always around mid- to late April.  This individual appeared newly emerged and was found resting on the ground.  It allowed itself to be picked up, and eventually took off from my hand a few minutes later.

Forest Pierrot (Taraka hamada)
Gakhwa Reservoir, Gwangju, South Korea

Japanese Flash (Rapala arata)
Mudeungsan National Park, Gwangju, South Korea

Northern Brown Argus (Aricia artaxerxes hakutozana)
Yeongsangang River, Damyang-gun, South Korea

Orange Hairstreak (Japonica lutea)
Mudeungsan National Park, Gwangju, South Korea

The four species shown above are all members of the Lycaenidae family.  This family of small butterflies can prove to be an exercise in minute details when it comes to identification.  Some species, like the Orange Hairstreak and Forest Pierrot are relatively easy to ID; the other species often require some careful study and research.

Large Map (Araschnia burjana)
Mudeungsan National Park, Gwangju, South Korea

Red Ring Skirt (Hestina assimilis)
Mudeungsan National Park, Gwangju, South Korea

Mating Neptis pryeri
Gakhwa Reservoir, Gwangju, South Korea

The brushfooted butterflies, family Nymphalidae, are the family of butterflies that the average person thinks about and sees.  While not as large as the swallowtails (Papilionidae), these common and brightly colored butterflies liven up our backyard gardens and city parks with their presence.

But the “secret migration” doesn’t only apply to butterflies; other insects appear as though out of nowhere once the weather warms up.  My favorite of these are the dragonflies and damselflies, but I also make a note of other strange and interesting insects whenever I have the opportunity to observe them.

Clown Stink Bug (Poecilocorus lewisi)
Mudeungsan National Park, Gwangju, South Korea

Platycnemis phyllopoda
Yeongsangang River, Damyang-gun, South Korea

As it does every year, the time is coming when I will switch my attentions from birds and focus more on dragonflies, damselflies, and butterflies.  At least until the end of July, when the first of the shorebirds will begin their long journeys back to their wintering grounds.  Until then, I’ll keep trying to see through my own filters, and experience the “secret migration” as much as I can.

Birdathon on Eocheong-do

If you’ve been following my blog, even for a short time, you might have noticed that I have what polite society might call a condition.  To say that I have “birds on the brain” doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.  I have dreams about birds, usually involving species I haven’t seen perching out in the open under perfect lighting conditions for me to photograph at my leisure.  I consider myself fluent in over 400 languages, because that is roughly the number of species I can readily identify by song or call alone (and that number continues to grow).  So, yeah, I have a condition.

Therefore it should go as no surprise that when my friend Jason Loghry at Birds Korea asked me to join the 2014 Birdathon, I literally jumped at the chance.  For those of you who don’t know, a Birdathon is a fundraising event wherein participants are sponsored to go out and see or hear as many different species as possible within a 24-hour period.  Sponsors can decide to pay a set amount of money per species, per hour spent birding, or a lump sum total.  For this Birdathon, all proceeds go directly to Birds Korea to help fund their conservation efforts protecting the critically endangered spoon-billed sandpiper and the habitats it utilizes here in South Korea.  It’s important work, and I was thrilled to have the opportunity to contribute in my own way.

I’ve already written about Eocheong-do (어청도), so this post is strictly about the birds.  And oh, the birds we did see.  There were six participants in this year’s Birdathon at Eocheong-do; other Birds Korea members did separate Birdathons at other locations in Korea and elsewhere in the world.  This year’s event carried with it the caveat that participants cannot use any mode of transportation other than their feet during the actual count period; i.e. we could take a ferry boat to Eocheong-do, but could not count any species seen during that time.  Here are some vital statistics on Birdathon 2014:

Duration: 4 days (May 3 – 6)
Birdathon Count Period: May 3, 10:20AM – May 4, 10:20AM
Birdathon Count Period Total: 78 species heard/observed
Total Species Counted on Eocheong-do: 95 species
Species Added to Life List: 18 (me); 22 (Melanie)
Funds Raised: 171,000₩

To briefly summarize our four day adventure, the birding was nothing short of spectacular.  Every day brought in new migrants, and every inch of the island was crawling with birds.  The vast majority were yellow-browed warblers, but hidden among them were less common species like Kamchatka leaf warbler and pale-legged leaf warbler.  As I have been told many times, the best birding in Korea can be found offshore on the islands, and I found this out to be true first-hand.  It wasn’t just the numbers of birds, but also the variety of species.  We even had to good fortune of spotting two mega-rarities: a cinnamon bittern and Korea’s third record of northern wheatear!

Here are a few of the highlights of our trip to Eocheong-do:

Narcissus Flycatcher (Ficedula narcissina)

Blue-and-white Flycatcher (Cyanoptila cyanomelana cyanomelana)

Chestnut Bunting (Emberiza rutila)

Yellow-breasted Bunting (Emberiza aureola ornata)
Classified as Endangered on the IUCN Red List

Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis bengalensis)

Chinese Pond-heron (Ardeola bacchus)

Black-winged Stilt (Himantopus himantopus himantopus)

Terek Sandpiper (Xenus cinereus)

Brown Shrike (Lanius cristatus lucionensis)

Northern Wheatear (Oenanthe oenanthe oenanthe)
This is only the 3rd time this species has been recorded in South Korea

These are but a small portion of all the images I took during our trip to Eocheong-do.  I encourage you to explore the Asian Bird galleries at my website if you’d like to see more from the trip.

The Birdathon Crew
From left: Jason Loghry, Hwang Haemin, Melanie Proteau Blake, Patrick Blake, Ha Jeongmun, and Kim Ohjin

It was a tremendous experience, one that will not soon be repeated.  Melanie and I were able to see some incredible birds and experience a migration unlike any we had before, and all the while we were raising money to help protect the crucial habitats that the birds we know and love depend on for survival.  A big thanks goes out to Birds Korea for hosting this event, and to my fellow Birdathoners here and abroad, for their dedication and passion that make birding the great past time that it is.