When we started work on Undiscovered Owls, the Turkish Fish Owl Bubo semenowi, known to us at the time as ‘Brown Fish Owl B zeylonensis’, posed an enormous challenge. There had been just a handful of Western Palearctic records in the last 100 years, including two from its last known stronghold: southern Turkey. In late April 1990, a fisherman caught one alive on a hook near Adana (Magnin 1991). This became the only record for Turkey in the 20th century as the previous ones concerned birds collected in the late 19th century (Ebels 2002). Then in 2004 a participant in a survey of wildlife in the Antalya mountains photographed a pair at a secret location (Yöntem 2007).
With definite fish owls reported from locations around 300 km apart, we hoped that a viable population might still exist. Still, we were only half serious in spring 2009 when we asked Arnoud to go and find them. At first he was understandably reluctant. To ensure that the long road trip would be worthwhile, he and Cecilia took in several owls and other bird species along the way. Among others, they recorded Ural Owls Strix uralensis in Slovenia, Wallcreepers Tichodroma muraria in Bulgaria and Pallid Scops Owls Otus brucei in eastern Turkey. From there they headed west to the forests, cliffs and fast-flowing rivers of Mediterranean Turkey.
As they drove west along the south coast, they passed several interesting-looking valleys. None seemed to be quite right. They carried on to the Antalya area where Soner Bekir had suggested trying their luck. On their way to a town Soner had mentioned they crossed a river. The place looked ideal for fish owls with high, mature and dense deciduous trees standing in the clean water, and cliffs on either side. Better still, the river was full of fish and frogs, and easily accessible thanks to a good road on one side. If they could not find fish owls in this apparently ideal habitat, it would be hard to imagine finding them anywhere else. 20 June 2009 was a Saturday, and the valley was full of illegal fishermen. Almost all had left at dusk when a huge owl flew from the cliff to the river. It was only a silhouette. Arnoud could see no details of feathers, yellowish eyes or unfeathered legs, but was convinced it was not an eagle-owl. One reason was its late appearance; eagle-owls start flying a bit earlier. Another was its silence; eagle-owls seem to hoot for a few minutes before flying out most evenings, even in mid-summer.
Over the next three days, Arnoud and Cecilia searched the cliffs to look for nesting sites. At dusk they waited for the fish owl to show up, and at night they listened while camping along the river at a local fish restaurant, all in vain. However, they were encouraged by hearing the account of Ibrahim, the restaurant owner, who had lived most of his working life in Germany. About a year earlier, he had seen a huge owl sitting on a rock in the river at night. When it flew off, its wings were as long as his arms. Frustrated by the lack of further sightings, Arnoud and Cecilia decided to return in a few months, when they hoped that the owl would be hooting. On the way home they sent an email to Soner, telling him they had found a definite site but not managed to obtain photographs or sound recordings.
Soner’s response was decisive. Within two weeks, on 2 July, he visited the same river with Murat Çuhadaroğlu. They had no luck at Arnoud and Cecilia’s spot, but carried on upstream, searching for eyeshine reflected in the light of their torch. Most was greenish and belonged to Wild Goats Capra aegagrus, but some 9 km further, orange eyeshine in the top of a pine on the other side of the roaring river stopped them in their tracks. A careful look produced much excitement when they realised it was a fish owl! Soner made some excellent photographs, proving beyond doubt that at least one individual was present. The next night, Soner’s friend Emin Yoğurtcuoğlu visited the same place and even saw two adults there. He also saw one closer to the location of Arnoud’s 20 June sighting.
Arnoud and Cecilia went back a week later, this time by plane. Sleeping rough on the riverside near Soner’s tree, they not only had excellent views of both adults but also witnessed a newly fledged juvenile jumping from the cliffs into a pine tree top. This confirmed the species’ first documented nesting record in the WP. They visited this territory five times in all seasons within the next year (van den Berg et al 2009, 2010), collecting many photographs and sound recordings. Our knowledge of Turkish Fish Owl sounds grew exponentially, but the most important sound was still missing.
On Wednesday 17 March 2010, Mark and I arrived at Arnoud and Cecilia’s house in the Netherlands for a meeting. As we were catching up with each other’s news, Arnoud received a phone call from Soner and Emin, who we had employed to prospect for more fish owls. They had just become the first modern day birders to hear a fish owl hooting in the Western Palearctic, at a new site at a little lake in the Taurus mountains north of Adana. So no sooner had we arrived than Arnoud was preparing to leave. The next evening he arrived at Adana airport, where a car arranged for him by Soner and Emin was waiting. In the middle of the night, the site was difficult to find, and it was almost dawn when Soner finally talked him in.
By day Soner and Emin showed him little piles of crab remains and pellets under old conifers, left behind by a fish owl, something they had also found underneath the previous year’s pine trees. Three friendly engineers working at the dam at one end of the lake told them that a shepherd had shot a huge owl a few years previously, which must have been the female. By the time of Arnoud’s visit the male had apparently not succeeded in attracting a new one, but at time of writing he has. In the evening, the engineers prepared a picnic. Arnoud’s participation came to an abrupt halt when he heard the male hooting in the distance. It carried on for much of the night, never quite where Arnoud hoped that it would be. Still, for a first ever recording of Turkish Fish Owl hooting, CD3-54 was not bad at all.