Seeking the solitary shoebill
Once you see a shoebill — or even a picture of a shoebill — you never forget it. This unusual bird looks like a cross between a stork, a pelican, and a dinosaur, both fearsome and comical. I had seen the pictures. Now I wanted to see one in the wild.
Throughout our trip around Uganda, I had been remarkably fortunate to see — and photograph — every single animal I had asked for. It was simple: I sent up a prayer to… well, I’m not exactly sure to whom I was praying. Perhaps to Mother Nature or to the Mother of All Shoebills (or Ground Hornbills or Lions or whatever), or perhaps I was just plucking at the strings of the interconnected universe as I sent up my wish to see a particular creature. And every time, Mother Nature (or whoever) delivered.
To find the shoebill, I had asked our ever-resourceful guide, Hassan, where I might see this unique bird. In response, he proposed a guided boat trip to Mabamba Marsh on the shores of Lake Victoria for our last morning in Uganda. It was a one-shot deal: if we missed the shoebill that morning, we wouldn’t have another chance. So my fingers were definitely crossed!
Over the water and into the swamp
We headed down to the lake in the early morning to catch our water taxi across to the marsh, where we met our guide, Ismail, and our boat driver, Adam. We climbed into their heavy wooden boat and headed off into the narrow channels of the swamp.
Like other wetlands in this part of the world, Mabamba Marsh is lined with papyrus, which provides habitat not only for shoebills but for many other bird species, as well. And the thing about putting out a bird request to the universe is that it often nets you more than you asked for. On this trip, for example, we saw several other new (to us) bird species, including a long-toed lapwing, a blue-headed coucal, and a rare red-knobbed coot (too far away for a decent photograph — but still…). We also spied African jacanas, bright malachite kingfishers, and lots of pied kingfishers, which we had come to see as our totem animal for the trip, since they popped up wherever we went.
Where were the shoebills?
Ismail and Adam are experienced guides, and part of their expertise is knowing when and whom to ask for help. Ismail called across the water to a fisherman: had he seen any shoebills this morning? (At least, that’s what I imagined he was saying; he was speaking in Luganda.) The fisherman responded and pointed, and we headed off in the direction he indicated.
As we pushed deeper into the swamp without a sighting, I prepared for disappointment. Whatever we saw on this excursion would be interesting, I told myself, even if it wasn’t a shoebill. It’s all good. But then: “Shoebill in the air!” cried Adam. And I thought: Yes!!
I trained my camera on the distant, soaring bird. It was huge! Even from a long way away, I was able to get a few decent shots.
In the photos, the shoebill was unmistakeable: the yellow eye, the huge, trailing feet, and especially the enormous bill that seemed to be smirking at me. Success!But of course, I wanted more. Our guides were determined to oblige — and they did, in spades. Our first sighting of the big bird on land was from a long way off (fuzzy photo). The next sighting was nearer, but we could see only its head and neck and the view was partially obscured by greenery (of course). Finally, they spotted another shoebill standing very still, as is their wont, and this one patiently allowed us to move to different spots and take pictures from different angles. In the end, we were only about twenty-five feet away! I took lots of photos, but they all look much the same, because the bird scarcely moved the whole time we were there.
At last he (she?) got fed up with all this standing around and flew off. But wow! Huge thanks to Mother Nature — and to Adam and Ismail — for this one!It’s all happening at the zoo
Confession: Even if we had not managed to see a shoebill in the wild, I wouldn’t have been completely disappointed, because we had an afternoon date for a behind-the-scenes tour at the Uganda Wildlife Conservation Education Centre (UWEC — a.k.a. the Entebbe Zoo). I knew they had a shoebill and that we would be able to interact with this magnificent bird. I still wanted to see one in the wild, though, because just seeing it in the zoo felt like cheating. Now, since we had already seen shoebills in the swamp, getting to actually touch one was icing on the cake.
Zookeeper Brian was our guide, and he started our meeting with the shoebill by clapping his hands and calling out to it. The enormous bird clacked his beak in response, and then came walking toward us at Brian’s side. We hadn’t been able to appreciate the shoebills’ height or their long legs when we saw them standing up to their thighs in swamp water.
This one stood taller than Craig’s waist — and reached Brian’s chest. The bird walked carefully, opening his wings for balance, and making a noise that sounded almost like growling. He has enormous feet to support his large body, a broad wingspan, a piercing yellow-eyed gaze, and a Dennis-the-Menace cowlick at the top of his head. Not to mention that huge bill. As I said, fearsome and comical. Here are a few scenes from our encounter:
The shoebill briefly tolerated our stroking. He was so soft and his feathers so very beautiful! I wanted to keep petting him, but he moved away, intent on his own business — or just on getting away from me.
So what is a shoebill, anyway?
The shoebill’s categorization has been debated over the years, some classifying it with storks, others with herons or with pelicans. Now, however, this bird is the lone member of its own taxonomical family, Balaenicipitidae (scientific name: Balaeniceps rex — i.e., King Whalehead!). Lately, molecular studies have suggested that its closest living relative is actually the hammerkop (at left).
The shoebill’s favorite food is the lungfish, which abounds in Mabamba Marsh. In fact, the marsh is named for these fish (called ebamba in Luganda). Shoebills also eat water snakes, monitor lizards, and young crocodiles, along with other sorts of fish.
There’s lots more information about shoebills on the web, and I’ve listed a few links under “Connections,” below. (The San Diego Zoo’s page is particularly well put together and detailed.) I hope you’ll be inclined to learn more.
Every so often we come across something — like a shoebill —
which invites us to marvel at this strange and beautiful world.
Thanks to Mother Nature for sending him our way!
Connections
- San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance: Shoebill
- eBird: Shoebill
- Shoebill (Edge of Existence, no. 33)
- Nicholas Lund: The Shoebill: Or, the Most Terrifying Bird in the World (Audubon News, 5 August 2016)
- Animal Diversity Web: Balaeniceps rex: shoebill
- Wikipedia: Shoebill
2 thoughts on “Seeking the solitary shoebill”
In this write-up I particularly enjoy the video of you stroking the shoebill, but all of your descriptions and photos–from build-up to climax–a wonderful teaching lesson Jenny. Thanks for ,
I had long accepted on faith the lesson that birds evolved from dinosaurs, but your amazing pix of the shoebill, make it viscerally clear. Thanks , Jenny, for this wonderful piece of photojournalism. JA
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