By Robbie Lisa Freeman
I’m crouching down low, crab walking, peering into the dense undergrowth of trees and shrubs just off the Dennery Highway in St. Lucia. My birding guide, Valance “Vision” James, is shouting, “He’s here, right here!” He’s gesticulating toward something that seems so obvious to him, but is “invisible” to me — the endangered St. Lucia White-breasted Thrasher. This Thrasher, found only on St. Lucia, is one of the handful of rare, endemic birds that I’ve travelled 3,825 miles to see. The White-breasted Thrasher loves to stay low. He’s a ground feeder, foraging swiftly around leaf litter searching for insects or berries. Finally, I spot him and raise my camera but he’s gone before I can focus. My camera lens is having a love affair with the branches and leaves instead of the bird! I keep adjusting, clicking, crab walking, pursuing. Click, click, click. Turn. Click, click, click. Walk. I could swear Vision is laughing at my poor ability to see, much less shoot this bird.
Vision has been leading visitors like me around this island for more than three years as a partner in St. Lucia Birding and Wildlife Ambassadors, with founder Adams Toussaint. Toussaint is a former Chief Forester with the St. Lucia Forestry Department. Both men have reputations as some of the best naturalist guides on the island and are extremely knowledgeable about birds and conservation.
Vision is also patient. And that’s a good thing. The thrasher keeps moving just out of my camera range. But slowly, slowly, I adjust to his pace, to his movements, and begin to get better views and better shots of this unique bird — one of only about 1,900 individuals left in the world. His deep chocolate plumage, which looks black and white in the low morning light, gives him an elegance that is in stark contrast to the rustic surroundings. He looks as if he’s donned a tuxedo and is ready for the next Birder’s Ball. But don’t be fooled. This bird has been forced to be scrappy. Forests once considered his breeding and nesting grounds have disappeared with development and growing numbers of introduced species, from rats and cats to mongooses and opossums. These invaders threaten its eggs, nestlings and fledglings.
All of the island’s six endemic species—the St. Lucia Parrot, St. Lucia Peewee, St. Lucia Warbler, St. Lucia Oriole, St. Lucia Black Finch and this thrasher—face the same challenges: encroaching developers and predators demanding more turf on an island only 27 miles long and 14 miles wide. Fortunately, conservation efforts have, for now, saved important tracts of tropical and mountain forests like the Des Cartiers Rain Forest, the Edmund Forest Reserve, the Castries Water Works Reserve, and the Millet Bird Sanctuary.
“Here, here!” Vision calls again. Staying low, I quickly spot a pair of St. Lucia Black Finches foraging for grubs and insects. This large-beaked finch looks similar to the Lesser Antillean Bullfinches that had appeared around every trail curve on a recent visit to Guadeloupe. But according to research, its closest relatives are actually the Darwin’s finches which are endemic to Galapagos, 2,200 miles away in South America. Happily, I tick off Number 2 of the six endemic birds I came to see. But I’m anxious to get on to the showstoppers—the brighter, flashier birds of the Caribbean.
So I’m thrilled when Vision next leads us to a bright yellow bird flitting through the brush—the St. Lucia Warbler. Be still my beating heart! I have a soft spot for warblers and had followed Yellow Warblers around Guadeloupe with the gusto of a hound dog. But this warbler is quite different. It’s a bit like a Yellow Warbler wearing a gray overcoat. It’s back, wings, tail feathers, and cap are blue-gray, but the face, chest and belly are lemon-yellow. Its beguiling face bears an intricate dark gray crescent under alert, coal-black eyes. Best of all, this little sprite has a penchant for posing for pictures. He courts my camera attentively, so I oblige with dozens of shots.
Shortly after, we depart the dry forest area and head to the rainforest region and The Des Cartiers Rainforest Trail. This 3.5-mile loop hike takes us through one of the wettest tropical forests on earth, receiving from 150-200 inches of rain annually. Equally important, it’s one of the few trails that offers potential glimpses of what was once one of the world’s most critically endangered parrots—the St. Lucia Amazon, locally called the Jacquot. After decades of habitat loss from hurricanes and humans, along with hunting and poaching of these birds for food and the pet trade, by the 1970s only about 100 remained, according to the UN Environment Program. In recognition of the bird’s plight, an international conservation effort was launched that included captive breeding programs, enforced protection for and surveying of the bird, recognition of the ‘Jacquot’ as St. Lucia’s national bird, a ‘Protection through Pride’ education program, and other efforts. Although aspects of these programs have not been without controversy, all together they have contributed to helping revive the species. In 1988, the parrot was moved up in status from “critically endangered” to “vulnerable” on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species. In the latest parrot count reported in 2016 by the IUCN, the world’s most comprehensive information source on the global extinction risk status of species, the St. Lucia Parrot was estimated to be 350-500 individuals. However, that count currently remains at odds with St. Lucia’s own 2010 biodiversity study. It shows the population is closer to 2000 birds—a curiously wide variance.
No matter which count is accurate, this bird is still a thrilling “comeback kid.” We feel ecstatic that we’ll be among the lucky visitors to see them. As we wait at various observation points along the trail overlooking a valley of trees, they tease us with their squawks. We picture them hiding out in their tree cavities inside the Gommier, Chatagnier, and other soaring rainforest trees. As time ticks by, I will them to appear. Then I resort to silent begging. But the parrots have other ideas. After more than an hour, we have to move on. We have other birds to find.
Fortunately, luck is on our side with other beautiful and rare birds along the trail. I’m particularly excited to see the St. Lucia Oriole. These birds are similar in size and coloration to the Baltimore Oriole, with black head, chest and wings, contrasting with orange tips on each wing, and an orange belly and rump. Foraging higher up in the trees for fruit, caterpillars and beetles, they can be a challenge to see. Spotting a nest is a real treat, as it is an intricately woven hanging pouch—a real testament to the architectural skills of birds.
As our half day birding trip winds down, Vision has one more endemic to secure for us, and he does not disappoint. He leads us along the trail directly to the little St. Lucia Pewee. This striking flycatcher has a soft orangish breast and rump, with a light gray-brown head and wings. He maintains a vigilant look as he scouts for small flying insects, darting out frequently to nab them mid-air. Sweet!
And that covers our endemics list. Not a perfect 100% sighting score, but an excellent morning by most any birder’s standards.
Beyond the Endemics
While a big focus of my birding is to see all of the rare birds found only on St. Lucia, there are many other birds of the region that both thrill and surprise me. One bird I have coveted for years, since first seeing it online in a photo, is the Lesser Antillean Euphonia, a small jewel box of color. It is high on my wish list, but I expect it will take some super bird sleuthing to track down this beauty. So when, on a lark, my husband and I drive up to the highlands in Babonneau for an aerial tram ride above the treetops of the St Lucia rainforest, I am thinking more about seeing views than seeing birds. After a short wait, we board an 8-person tram, alone, with our guide, Lea. She is an animated and engaging guide, distracting me from my fear of heights by describing the unique flora and fauna of the forest. Still, we are dangling in a tram high above tall trees and a bit of panic is rising in my brain. I decide a better distraction is for me to talk about the birds we came to see on St. Lucia. Amazingly, she is equally knowledgeable about birds and when I tell her of my dream to see the Antillean Euphonia, she says it is here, right in this forest. No sooner have I expressed my delight than the tram suddenly jerks to a stop. We sit suspended over the forest canopy. No way! Panic is starting to rise again in my gut, but suddenly Lea points to a cluster of vines and says “There it is!” I whirl my head around to see a brilliantly colored Lesser Antillean Euphonia calmly foraging on berries. I practically tumble over the tram rail trying to position my camera for a view. It’s magical, with a bright turquoise head and yellow beak bar, contrasting with chartreuse-green wings, back and breast. Despite its jewel colors, this bird easily blends into the green canopy and could have been missed had the tram had not halted to an unexpected stop. Precariously angled, I’m leaning over the tram rail and shooting over my shoulder, so excited I can barely focus—afraid it will fly. But it sits for us and shows off until the tram starts up again. Talk about lucky breaks!
Another favorite surprise of the island is the Rufous-throated Solitaire, a small songbird I had never heard of, even though it’s found on several islands in the region. Its white eye and chin markings, a brick-red throat, and slate-gray plumage give it a distinctly handsome look.
Also along our travels, my husband and I spy the Grey Trembler, the Lesser Antillean Saltador, the Caribbean Elaenia, and the splendid Lesser Antillean Crested Hummingbird. By the end of our week, we are satiated by the birding here and the many other adventures St. Lucia has to offer. It has been a trip of a lifetime and we vow to return to the Caribbean and the many other islands—and birds—we’ve yet to see.
This is the third and final article in a series about the Caribbean Birding Trail.
Robbie Lisa Freeman is a public relations professional in the health, fitness and wellness industry, an avid birder, and a contributing writer to Western Tanager Magazine. Follow her on Instagram @freebird2020lf.
For more information about St. Lucia Birding and Wildlife Ambassadors, email birding@stluciawildlife.com. For information on the birds of the Caribbean and the Caribbean Birding Trail, visit BirdsCaribbean.org and Caribbeanbirdingtrail.org and follow on social media: @BirdsCaribbean.
Published by Los Angeles Audubon Society, Western Tanager Vol. 87 No. 1 Sep–Oct 2020.