Numbat alert!

Today Dean Bradshaw, a friend of ours (and a fantastic photographer), picked us up and the three of us headed down to Dryandra Woodland, a small chunk of remnant wandoo forest surrounded by the vast expanses of Western Australia’s wheatbelt. Before we even entered the woodland, we found what we think is a dead tammar wallaby (Macropus eugenii).

Roadkilled tammar wallaby (Macropus eugenii)

Dryandra is famous as being one of the few places where numbats (Myrmecobius fasciolatus) exist. I’ve been obsessed with numbats since I was a kid, but was unable to visit Dryandra the last time I was in Perth. Alecia did two days of intensive numbat hunting at Dryandra when she was here in March of 2007, but failed to spot any. Needless to say, we were both looking forward to spending a decent chunk of time there and hopefully seeing some of these unique marsupials. Numbats are fascinating for a numbat, err, number of reasons. They’re Australia’s only completely diurnal marsupial, becoming active during the day when the temperature is warm enough to bring out their termite food supply. They’re also the only Australian marsupial (‘pouched mammal’) that feeds exclusively on termites. (Echidnas (Tachyglossus aculeatus), Australia’s other termite specialists, are of course monotremes, not marsupials.) In a land where termites are such a conspicuous part of the landscape it might be surprising that we don’t have more mammalian termite eaters. Of course, we have no shortage of birds, frogs and reptiles that prey upon these soft-bodied insects.

It’s also interesting (and very depressing) to note that numbats used to be widespread across much of arid and semi-arid southern Australia, but habitat destruction and the introduction of feral predators (such as cats and foxes) saw them restricted to just Dryandra. The Perth zoo has a fantastically successful breeding program and has released captive-bred numbats in a couple of conservation reserves. Dryandra is heavily baited with 1080 to reduce predation pressure from feral animals (mainly foxes). This seems to be working well, as the original population of numbats is recovering nicely, as are populations of a number of other species in the woodlands. All of the numbats in Dryandra are ‘genuinely wild’, that is, no captive-bred numbats have been released into Dryandra – the population has recovered purely through fox control.

We arrived at the woodlands late Monday afternoon and spent a few hours driving around the park looking for flashes of orange and brown darting through the forest, but saw nothing except some western grey kangaroos (Macropus fuliginosus).

Western grey kangaroo (Macropus fuliginosus)

I thought we might have a good reptile haul over the next few days, as when we walked up to the caretaker’s house a shingleback (Tiliqua rugosa) darted (in as much as a shingleback can dart) underneath it. We also saw a few Carnaby’s black cockatoos (Calyptorhynchus latirostris) perched in a nearby tree.

Carnaby’s Black-Cockatoo (Calyptorhynchus latirostris)

We went out driving at night hoping to find some reptiles such as geckos, legless lizards and the south-western sub-species of carpet snake (Morelia spilota imbricata), but only spotted a few macropods bouncing across the road in front of us and a tawny frogmouth (Podargus strigoides).

Tawny frogmouth (Podargus strigoides)

The next day we headed out at the crack of dawn to try to catch some numbats soaking up some early morning sunshine. No numbats, but we did find an echidna (Tachyglossus aculeatus), and a couple of shinglebacks (Tiliqua rugosa) sunning themselves on the road.

Echidna (Tachyglossus aculeatus)

Shingleback (Tilqua rugosa)

Five hours and no numbats (or ‘dumbats’, as we’d started calling them) later we decided to head back to our cabin for lunch. As we were driving back, Dean suddenly yelled out “there’s one!”, and pointed to a tiny blob of fur that had just dashed out onto the road some distance in front of us. It seemed to look at the approaching vehicle before darting off into the bush. We stopped the car where the numbat had been and frantically searched the surrounding area for any signs of our quarry. Dean and Alecia did a quick sweep of the forest floor, but failed to turn up anything promising. I had been standing next to a hollow log on the side of the road and I realised that if I were a numbat, I would have headed straight for that log at the first sign of danger. As I was standing there wondering how I’d fare as a numbat, I heard some scratching noises from the log. Alecia and Dean arrived back and I told them that there was probably a numbat in that log. We saw that there was only one entrance and exit into the log, so we each took up a position around it and aimed our cameras. Ten minutes later Dean’s gasp told us our patience had paid off.

Our first close-up glimse of a wild numbat (Myrmecobius fasciatus)

Over the next ten minutes the numbat got bolder and moved further out of the log, but would dash back in at the slightest sound or movement. He knew we were there and would stare at us intently, but must have decided we weren’t a threat.

A numbat (Myrmecobius fasciatus)

He eventually came completely out of the log, sniffed at us for a moment and then scurried nonchalantly away into the bush,

A numbat (Myrmecobius fasciatus)

I’m sure I don’t need to say (but I will anyway) that we were all absolutely thrilled with our first wild numbat encounter. It was a surreal experience to come so close to an animal that up until then we had only seen in books or zoos.

We headed back to the cabin for lunch and a quick siesta, then it was back out onto the afternoon shift. Four hours and no numbats later we decided to head back to the cabin for dinner. Just like the morning, on the way back a numbat darted out onto the road, momentarily considered the oncoming car, then dashed off into the bush. When we drove up a bit further we could still see the numbat snuffling around in the bush. We got out of the car and watched him for a bit, then we followed him as he ran off to one of his logs.

The log into which a numbat ran

Again we assumed positions around the possible exits from the log and commenced the waiting game. This numbat seemed to take a liking to Alecia and stared at her out of the end of the log for about ten minutes. Shortly afterwards he emerged from the side of the log and ran off.

Numbat (Myrmecobius fasciatus)

Two days. Two numbats. Too bloody right! We’d obviously exhausted our numbat quota because the next day we drove around from dawn ’til dusk with not a single numbat sighting. We did manage to see a western brush wallaby (Macropus irma) sitting beside the road.

Western brush wallaby (Macropus irma)

That night we went on a tour of Barna Mia, a captive breeding facility for local endangered species nestled in the heart of Dryandra. The enclosure is home to rarities such as bilbies, western barred bandicoots, burrowing bettongs, brush-tailed bettongs and rufous hare-wallabies. Captive-bred bilbies and burrowing bettongs have been released into Dryandra, and the populations haven’t gone extinct yet (which is always a good sign!).

Bilby (Lagotis macrotis)

Brush-tailed bettong (Bettongia penicillata)

To keep the animals as undisturbed as possible, there’s no flash photography allowed and all torches must be covered with a red filter (hence the odd colours in the above pictures).

The next day we packed up our stuff and loaded it into the car. We then drove around for a few more hours hoping to see another numbat or seven. Just as we were getting sick of the lack of numbats, Alecia spotted one out the side of the car.

A numbat (Myrmecobius fasciatus)

We got out and watched it run into a nearby log. Yet again we found ourselves sitting next to a hollow log in the middle of the bush and 40 degrees C. heat. After 45 minutes of sitting in the sun, we’d had enough. We had a peek in the log to make sure he hadn’t escaped out the back. Sure enough, there he was. Asleep, by the look of it.

A numbat just chilling out

We left him in peace and headed back to Perth.

—
Thanks to Dr Tony Friend for clarifying some details of the Dryandra project for me.