A Feast of Feathers: Seeing All the World's 234 Bird Families

Hypocolius - Greater Rann of Kutch, India: Family Hypocolius (1 spp)

It didn't exactly take the breath away, but there it was. A drab, olive-green bird sitting motionless in a heavily forested gully in Darien National Park, in the far south of Panama. The bird was a Sapayoa, an enigmatic bird with a family of its own, and the only one of the world's 234 bird families that until that moment in October 2015, I had not seen.

Black-lored Parrot - Buru, Indonesia: Family Old World Parrots (180 spp)

Now, with all 234 families in the bag, it's time to reflect; this is being written because people have suggested I do so. I'm often asked three questions. Why chase bird families? Answer: No particular reason other than it seemed like a challenge with a difference. How difficult is it to snare them all? Answer: Quite. Will I keep chasing families if new ones are created due to taxonomic changes? Answer: We'll see, but having achieved the goal, I doubt I will feel compelled to do so.

Sapayoa - Darien National Park, Panama:  Family Sapayoa (1 spp)

I'd looked for Sapayoa before, the last time in Colombia in 2011, when our group birded the Quibdo Road in the choco of the country's western foothills. We saw no Sapayoas but did encounter heavily armed Colombian troops. We learned later that the road was in a region frequented by FARC fighters and bandits, where military conflict was commonplace. We were told we were stupid to be there.

Spotted Elachura - Eaglenest, India. Pic Tony Palliser: Family Elachura (1 spp)

It's in the nature of birding that one can be in potentially dangerous predicaments, particularly if alone. I had been targeted by armed robbers in Mexico and knife-wielding hooligans in Spain. I almost died of cerebral malaria contracted in Kenya. I've been charged by elephants and rhinos and stung by stingrays and killer hornets. Many birding friends have similar tales.

Regent Bowerbird - Border Ranges, Australia: Family Bowerbirds (20 spp) 

Yet we are driven still. Feathers in the head, it is said. Birders are a varied lot. Some are content to keep an eye on their local patch. Others in this country are focused on their Australian lists. There was a time, in the 1970s and early-80s, when I would go anywhere in Australia to twitch a vagrant. Once I was vying with John McKean and Mike Carter for the biggest Australian list.

Grey-necked Rockfowl - Korup, Cameroon. Pic Matthew Matthiesson: Family Rockfowl (2 spp)

I had no interest in world birding at the time, but that changed, beginning with a visit to Papua New Guinea in 1982. Near Kainantu in the Eastern Highlands, I watched a male Blue Bird-of-Paradise hanging upside down from a branch, shimmering in the sunlight in full display. It was and remains the most gorgeous thing I had seen; I was hooked.

Great Frigatebird - Lady Elliot Island, Australia: Family Frigatebirds (5 spp)

Since then I have been to Africa and Latin America 9 or 10 times each, usually on lengthy trips, and to Asia, Europe and America on many occasions. Numerous islands from the Caribbean to the western Pacific and Indian oceans were checked out. I experienced the wonders of the Arctic and Antarctica, staying in adjoining rooms on the same vessel for trips two years apart to the two ends of the globe.

Adelie Penguin - Ross Sea, Antarctica: Family Penguins (18 spp)

Each of the world's 10,000+ bird species belongs to one of 234 families. Sometime in the mid-1990s I decided that I wanted to see all those families. There was no particular reason; it simply seemed like a good idea to see groupings of related species. It became a goal, and quite a slug. I always plan exhaustively for overseas birding trips. The goal of seeing all bird families often complicated itineraries and added considerable costs.

White-breasted Whistler - Cape Keraudren, Australia: Family Whistlers & Allies (57 spp)

Some families are easy to tick. The 164 species of waterfowl and 144 species of rail are scattered across the globe. It is impossible to go anywhere in South America without seeing some of the 302 species of ovenbirds and their relatives. Other families are much more difficult, especially those with one or two species in remote and difficult-to-access places; these include Hypocolius, Spotted Elachura, Shoebill, Kagu, Magellanic Plover, Egyptian Plover, Plains-wanderer, Bristlehead and Rockfowl. Others such as Australia's scrub-birds and the Rail-babbler of south-east Asia are skulking and hard to find. 

Okarito Brown Kiwi - Franz Joseph, New Zealand: Family Kiwis (5 spp) 

Seeing the final three families on my world list took almost three years. In January 2013, with Bill Watson and Tony Palliser, I saw Hypocolius in the desert of the Greater Rann of Kutch in north-west India. In May 2015, again with Bill Watson and Tony Palliser, I saw Spotted Elachura in the rainforest of Eaglenest Wildlife Sanctuary in north-east India. There is symmetry to this; Tony has just returned from a trip to Argentina where he also clocked up the 234 families.

Superb Lyrebird - Woy Woy, Australia:Family Lyrebirds (2 spp)

I have long followed the taxonomy of The Clements Checklist of Birds of the World, meaning that for all intents and purposes, I've seen all the world's bird families. Others follow the differing taxonomy of the checklist published by the International Ornithological Congress. If I had been in the IOC camp, I would have one more family to go, the Wattled Ploughbill of New Guinea, which I have heard but not seen in the field. 

Yucatan Jay - Tulum, Mexico: Family Crows, Jays & Magpies (124 spp) 

As it was, the radically changing face of taxonomy due to the technology of DNA made the task of seeing the world's families increasingly difficult as time progressed. Until recently, for instance, Spotted Elachura was thought not to have even its own genus, but DNA sequencing showed it was a highly distinctive taxa, warranting its own family. Another one that unexpectedly had to be added to the wishlist. 

Abyssinian  Roller - Waza, Cameroon: Family Rollers (12  spp)

For now, I can reflect on some on the pleasures of seeing those 234 families. The Kagu of New Caledonia was only just returning from the brink of extinction when I saw it in 2000; Yves Letocart, the celebrated French scientist researching the bird, led me to a gorgeously displaying male. An anxious wait of several hours preceded the fantastic spectacle of a group of Grey-necked Rockfowl bouncing about the walls of a cave in Korup National Park, Cameroon, in 2006.

Soft-plumaged Petrel - Sunshine Coast, Australia:  Family Shearwaters & Petrels (87 spp)

My first Hoatzin, a juvenile in Venezuela in 1995, looked positively prehistoric as it clambered about the foliage with clawed wings. Almost as unworldly was the solitary Shoebill stalking the shallows of Akegara in Rwanda in 1990, shortly before that lovely country was torn asunder by civil strife. A lone male Prezvalski's Rosefinch shone like a red beacon in the midst of the stark plains of China's Qinghai province in 2007. Back home in Australia, few things are as enchanting as a lyrebird - be it Superb or Albert's - in full song, while a male Regent Bowerbird in the sun never disappoints.

Puerto Rican Rody - Guanico, Puerto Rico: Family Todies (5 spp)

With 234 bird families in the bag, where to next? There are more than 10,000 bird species in the world: despite everything, I've see just 75 per cent of those.