For couples travelling in Africa, where one is a birder, and the other, less so, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better destination than the Seychelles. Its endemic birds are accessible, and its tropical beaches make postcards envious.
First noted by Portugal’s Vasco da Gama in 1503, and visited by the English in 1609, it was claimed by France in 1756. The French settled there, with African and Indian labourers, and a Seychellois Creole, spoken to this day, evolved. In 1811 Britain took control of the islands, which eventually gained their independence in 1976.
Some 115 islands comprise this Indian Ocean archipelago nation, totalling a mere 460 square kilometres of land. The main islands of Mahé, Praslin and La Digue are where almost all of the country’s 130,000 inhabitants live.
The main islands are granitic – not volcanic – remnants of Gondwanaland’s fissuring some 150 million years ago. A paradise lost somewhere between what were to become Africa and India. They are the globe’s oldest islands, varied and widely dispersed.
The Aldabra Atoll, for example, is over 1,000 km from the capital, Victoria. The atoll is a biodiversity hotspot and one of the country’s two UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Difficult to visit, boats making the intrepid voyage there must witness this spectacle from sea. Most world listers will probably skip its localised endemics: Aldabra Fody, Aldabra Drongo, and Aldabra White-eye. Aldabra also hosts the ocean’s only flightless bird – the White-throated Rail – although individuals of the same species elsewhere, do fly.
Seychelles White-eye
Birders visiting the main islands will want to target the twelve accessible endemics. At the latest count, 279 species had been recorded for the country. About half of them are visitors or vagrants. The best time to visit, if you want to maximise your species count, is October-November. This is when migration peaks, the weather has settled, and the seas are calm.
The Seychelles’s list of extinct species is, sadly, too long. The last Seychelles Parakeet was seen in 1893, and the more contentious Seychelles Turtle Dove has recently “disappeared” due to hybridisation with the Malagasy Turtle Dove. Some islands (Aride, Cousin) still host the purple-headed race, but it is no longer considered a separate species.
On Mahé I was fortunate to spend some time with one of the area’s best-known guides, Steve Agricole. Steve started off as a ranger working on various islands and took to birds, ringing many of the threatened endemics for much-needed research and rewilding. Many of these (the magpie-robin, white-eye and warbler) have since made successful recoveries.
Unseasonal rains greeted us in early November as we explored the neighbourhoods above the capital for the Vulnerable Seychelles White-eye. Fewer than 50 remain on this, the largest island. Despite over 20% of the land’s surface protected in reserves, habitat destruction continues to threaten these and most of the islands’ year-round inhabitants. The white-eye and the Seychelles Scops Owl are the two most difficult birds to find. Steve pegged our chances at 75% on the white-eye and 50% on the owl. I suspect he was being ambitious. Seeing them was going to be a treat. Photographing one would be the cherry on the cake.
After a couple of hours in the drizzle, we were lucky to see a distant white-eye. The most common endemic, Seychelles Sunbirds, were vocal and active and during our ten days on the islands quite a few posed for the camera. The white-eyes were less obliging, but as we were trudging back to the vehicle, contemplating our next target, their characteristic chirping had us stop in our tracks, and granted us a few minutes. It was a terrific start.
Then it was “time for tea”. A little soon, I thought. But Steve knew of a couple of kestrels a stone’s throw from his favourite sandwich deli. And he was spot on. As we arrived, a Seychelles Kestrel had just caught a Zebra Dove and was announcing his prize to a nearby juvenile, both of them in roadside palms. I was elated. My pre-visit research suggested that they weren’t as “common” as the guidebooks suggested and when you did see one, it was usually on a telephone pole or wire. Not ideal photographic perches. Two rarities in a few hours. It was time for tea.
We were fortunate to find one of the non-endemic but scarce (with fewer than 200) Yellow Bitterns in a wetland beside the north coastal road. These little waders are more commonly found in Southeastern Asia, but a small population found its way to the main islands, the only place they occur in Africa.
We stopped at some vantage points in the north to try to capture the Seychelles Swiftlet, my fourth endemic. These little flitterers, like all swifts, are hard to pin to the sensor. Generous measures of time, eye-level positioning, light from behind, and practice, are the order of the day.
On my way back to our little apartment I stopped in La Providence, a coastal industrial area between the capital and the airport, popular with migrant waders. It is also a good spot for the super-saturated Red Fody and the petite Zebra Dove, both common throughout the main islands. The former is thought to be a natural coloniser (visitors in the 18th century mentioned their presence), and the latter (harmless Southeast Asian birds) were introduced as caged birds in the previous century.
That first night, Steve and I drove up the windy pass to the Mission Ruins, entrance to the thickly forested Morne Seychelles National Park, and listened at two different locations for a few hours in the rain, for a sign of the owl, but to no avail. I’d set aside another night in a week’s time, just in case.
The following day’s weather was perfect. We used the opportunity to circumnavigate the island in our little hired car. The roads are narrow, and the buses don’t seem to notice. It’s a thrilling day’s experience connecting the beaches and roadside food stalls, over steep passes, the odd White-tailed Tropicbird gliding through the valleys.
The other common endemic is the Seychelles Bulbul, like the sunbird and Seychelles Blue Pigeon, occurring on all the main islands. With a few days on each, you should be able to grace your gallery with their images.
Seychelles Magpie-Robin
Our next stop was to be four days on Praslin, the second-largest island and home to the country’s national bird – the Seychelles Black Parrot. The parrot only occurs on Praslin and one other nearby island. Behavioural and genetic differences led scientists to split this parrot from Madagascar’s Lesser Vasa Parrot in 2009. Many islanders have a love-hate relationship with this protected species. They appreciate its rarity status and unique place in the island’s natural order but dislike their penchant for garden fruits. The parrots are destructive feeders, taking choice morsels and moving to the next juicy fig or papaya.
Vallée de Mai is home to the famous Coco de Mer – a tall endemic palm tree and bearer of the world’s largest seed. The heaviest was recorded at 42kg! This important reserve is also the island’s second World Heritage Site and breeding grounds for the parrot. It is where birders, wanting to see the parrot, are recommended to go. We purchased our day ticket and explored the reserve’s network of trails for a couple of hours in the morning and later that afternoon. We heard them and had one or two glimpses but photographing them in this tall dark palm forest was not going to be as easy as I’d hoped, and I didn’t know any locals with fruit trees who could guarantee parrot visits.
I texted Gemma Jessy for help. She is Praslin’s well-known bird guide and galloping granny extraordinaire. She was going to be guiding us to one of the nearby islands the next day. She suggested I walk back and forth along the 100 metres separating the entrances to the Vallée de Mai nature reserve and the Glacé Noir hike, early in the morning. The birds visit fruiting trees there and the gaps in the forest might reveal them better. Local knowledge is best and within an hour had granted me endemic number six. Thank you, Gemma. Later that day we hiked the trail to the tower viewpoint and saw a few more parrots in the forest en route. The tower also provided the best swiftlet flybys.
We met Gemma early the next morning at Grand Anse, where boats leave for the nearby islands of Cousin and Aride. The latter, ten kilometres from Praslin, is managed as a Special Status Reserve by the NGO, Island Conservation Society, and had just reopened to visitors. It is protected for its important place in the country’s biodiversity, and strictly controlled by rangers and volunteers, aiming to keep invasive insects and rodents from coming ashore.
Before dropping anchor, we circumnavigated the “arid” island, bemused by soaring Great Frigatebirds, who come to feed and roost here in their thousands, Lesser Noddies, Sooty and White Terns. Then Gemma led us, for a couple of hours, on trails through the forest, along the beach, and up the ridge through a cacophony of nesting birds. On our return to Praslin we were treated to Wedge-tailed Shearwater and Bridled Tern. Many might not have been endemics, but they were equally exciting lifers.
I can’t recommend Gemma highly enough. She is an absolute “gem”, sharing her knowledge of the islands and the various species’ success stories. She has been an integral part of their conservation stories for many decades.
The island is particularly important because it hosts three endemics which may only be found on one or two other islands. All three are easily seen on Aride, but a private boat and guide, and favourable landing weather, will help ensure a successful outing.
Seychelles Warbler
The male Seychelles Fody is yellow headed when breeding. Hybridisation with the red Malagasy Fody has restricted their range to a few islands. Efforts to prevent visiting Red Fodies from interbreeding on Aride are managed by the rangers, and we were able to see quite a few endemic individuals.
The Seychelles Warbler and the Seychelles Magpie-Robin are two success stories. Both were near the brink of extinction when efforts were made to capture, breed and relocate them to less-harmful islands. The warblers numbered below 30; and there were once only twelve magpie-robins left. Both have since recovered well, especially the warbler, and these are commonly seen as you wander this enchanting dry forest between nesting White-tailed Tropicbirds, nonchalant Brown Noddies, courting White Terns and lumbering Aldabra giant tortoises.
With nine endemics on film, it was time to try and get a photo of the Seychelles Blue Pigeon. We’d seen a few every day, often on telephone wires, or flying past, fast. They’re beautiful pigeons. As we returned to our cottage for our final night on Praslin, a pair were perched and feeding in the garden’s trees. Another perfect send off.
Excited, I hired a bike (the local mode of transport) and cycled straight to the reserve, after disembarking from the ferry. But after two mosquito-infested hours, we hadn’t seen a single flycatcher. It was midday, perhaps it was too hot? We cycled to the must-see Anse Source d’Argent, a picture-perfect granite-studded tropical white beach for sundowners. A pair of Malagasy Turtle Doves – surprisingly difficult to photograph in Madagascar – tiptoed on the granite rocks in perfect light, producing one of my favourite images from the trip. We returned to the reserve at sunset and eventually saw a male flycatcher. It is such an exquisite species. But with ISO requirements well beyond what I was happy with, I was going to have to return early the next day before our ferry back to Mahé, for a last-ditch effort.
I arrived the next day at the crack of dawn and after a nerve-racking hour of back and forth – it’s a small reserve tucked between noisy roads and houses – I was relieved to encounter a pair. They were gracious, allowing me to spend a few minutes with them. I’d recommend two nights on La Digue, more if you like beaches, and not to forget the bug spray.
We returned to Mahé for some rest and relaxation, and a final stab at the owl, the last of the twelve main-island endemics. Steve and I met in the evening and visited his favourite locations again, but it was not to be. We were consoled by a young endemic tiger chameleon.
During our ten days there I was fortunate to photograph eleven of the twelve available endemics. We had to leave something for next time.
Travelling tips (ex South Africa):
– Mahé is closer to India than Johannesburg; regular flights take five hours to the capital of Victoria
– Self-driving is easy on Mahé and Praslin. Many roads are narrow and steep. We hired cars from Kreol and Okap, both were reliable. They’ll do the handover at the airport or ferry.
– We used the Cat Cocos ferry to get to Praslin, La Digue and back to Mahé. They were well priced and comfortable; the longest leg taking just over an hour. Book online.
– Recommended English-speaking bird guides: Steve Agricole (Mahé) +248 260 8169 and Gemma Jessy (Praslin) +248 264 5465. You shouldn’t need a guide on La Digue.