Winged wonderland
With the seawater squeezed from our socks, shoes are back on to summit Phillip Island. There’s a rope to help climb the first steep section, then timber-ladder paths criss-cross the rocky surface, a crevassed Mars-scape that could be a movie set. Dramatic eroded valleys of red, purple and yellow earth are garnished with green, the plant life here grasping its way back after years being ravaged by feral rabbits, goats and pigs.
While Phillip Island is devoid of human residents, it is an avian riot, attracting all manner of sea birds to breed and nest – masked boobies, sooty terns, red-tailed tropicbirds, Australasian gannets, wedge-tailed shearwaters and the magnificent providence petrel. The latter was eaten to near extinction during the penal colony years, but is now braving an encore.
The birds have no fear of humans. But it’s not us they need to worry about. When night falls, the Phillip Island centipede comes out to hunt. Growing up to 30 centimetres in length, these terrifying creatures slither into birds’ burrows to feast on chicks. Scientists estimate the centipedes kill and consume up to 3,700 winged wonders each year. Clambering over the island I begin to wish I had extra socks to go over my shoes.
