Hybrid
animals occurring in natural populations are rare and always arouse quite a bit
of interest within the natural history fellowship whenever they’re encountered.
Birds are the most often reported from the vertebrate classes probably because
of the high visibility of these animals and the increasing popularity of
birdwatching within the general community. And within the Aves, parrots and
cockatoos feature highly as either captive bred mutations or naturally
occurring hybrids. Over the years I’ve encountered Australian King Parrot and
Red-winged Parrot hybrids a couple of times in the wild but recently got a
“first” at Lake Galletly on the University of Queensland’s Gatton campus.
Earlier this
year I was at this very popular birdwatching venue with good friend and fellow
birder Terry Reis. At one stage our attention was drawn to an odd-looking
cockatoo in company of about six Little Corellas. The bird looked like a very
pale, “washed-out” Galah and Terry and I had decided that it was indeed one of
this species with some sort of pigment aberration. At least this is what we
thought until the cocky flew off with the corellas and starting calling to them
in “Corella”. It was then that we realised that the bird was actually a hybrid
of this species and the very common Galah; an interesting observation duly
noted in our field books – then promptly forgotten. Forgotten at least until
Sunday 23rd August when I was again birding in the Lockyer with
another birdwatching friend Russell Jenkins over from his home in Japan for a
couple of weeks.
On this
morning we were at Pechey Swamp on Old Ropeley Road, Lower Tent Hill near
Gatton. This is another very popular birdwatching venue but on this morning
there was little to see. As we were preparing to leave a small flock of Little
Corellas arrived at the water body with a pair immediately inspecting potential
nesting hollows in the bankside eucalypts. In their midst was a bird very
similar to, if not actually the same as the hybrid that Terry and I had seen at
Lake Galletly a few weeks ago. Again it was obviously in company with the
corellas and calling in the same vein. It was also apparent that it was an
established member of this flock despite its odd plumage. A picture is worth a
thousand words as the old saying goes and, as Russell is an excellent bird
photographer, I have the luxury of two excellent images of this bird to
illustrate this small offering. I firmly believe that the Lake Galletly and
Pechey Swamp bird is one and the same animal; these waterbodies are not that
far apart as the cocky flies.
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It is curious
how one subject leads to another when you start dragging books from your
library shelf. My initial inquires in hybridisation of Australian parrots and
cockatoos got me on to some other interesting titbits regarding these
ubiquitous birds. In Ian Fraser’s and Jeannie Gray’s Australian Bird Names – a complete guide (2013), CSIRO Publishing,
Collingwood, we’re informed that the word ‘Cockatoo’ first appears in English
in the early 1600’s in the form ‘Cock-a-two’ and its origin is the Malay word kakatua (probably onomatopoetic in
origin), which was incorporated into Dutch as kakatoe. Vieillot (1817) is believed to have used ‘cockatoo’ based
on the call of ‘white cockatoos’.
Corella is
derived from an Australian indigenous language although which one is unclear.
The Australian National Dictionary has suggested it to be derived from the
Wiradjuri garala whereas the
Australian Oxford agrees but suggests the root word is garila. Galah is believed to have come from gilaa from the Yuwaalaraay language group on north-western New
South Wales. The Galah has a host of other old monikers mostly derived from the
indigenous peoples’ names for this lovely animal including Goolie, Goulie, and
Willock. I particularly like Willie-willock thought to be a corruption of wilek-wilek from the Wembawemba of the
Riverina and Wim-mera of southern Australia. The Galah’s scientific name Eolophus roseicapillus literally
translates as ‘rosy-haired dawn-crest’; brings to mind Homer’s “rosy-fingered
dawn”; Eos being the Greek goddess of Dawn and part of the Galahs’ generic
epithet.
And so it goes … words – how
lovely they are and what a fine tracery they weave through our language; end-lessly
if you’ve a mind for it but I’d better stop now. Our Goolie is hanging by his
feet from the roof of his cage clamouring for attention; a rose-mantled Narcissus
with the screech of a Harpy.
Article by Rod Hobson, photos by Russell Jenkins
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