My records in the Catchment Forest yesterday (see Singapore 19 Dec 2005) has sparked an uncomfortable debate on the usually friendly and informative local e-group, Singapore Birding. A member of the group asked me if I could be more specific about where I saw the Hooded Pitta and Oriental Scops Owl, and I gave a fairly lengthy reply explaining - as best as I could - which area I'd first seen them in. I did so because both species are rare visitors (not rare breeding species), the forest is public and heavily visited, and I was just lucky to have been in the right spot at the right time and I felt an obligation as a visitor to Singapore to provide information to local birders.

Shortly afterwards a mail was posted back in which it was implied that I'd only seen the birds I had by causing disturbance in a fragile habitat by going "off the path" and flushing them like some one-man rent-a-crowd.

I was a little stung, but reading back what I wrote on the blog yesterday and the mail I posted I guess I can see why there might have been a mis-understanding. In fact the forest I went into is (or was) used by the military in Singapore as a training-area and is therefore a warren of tracks, and I did write yesterday's post in a sort of shorthand, where "I went in after" the Hooded Pitta could perhaps be read as "I decided to crash into the undergrowth and charge around like a bull elephant hoping that I might see it again briefly before it scarpered south into Indonesia".

Anyone who's ever looked for a bird like a pitta will know that the least effective way to see one is to make any noise whatsoever - I didn't see it again, so perhaps I was noisier than I'd hoped but then I didn't really expect to: the Catchment Forest is large enough and dense enough in parts to envelop a hundred pittas. Still, I can say with absolute surety that the Short-tailed Babbler wasn't disturbed by me in any way at all, and that the Forest Wagtails were still trundling along quite happily when I walked off in the opposite direction...

I hope that anyone who knows me would agree that I take the welfare and conservation of birds and habitats very seriously. I also fully understand that the way I can go birding all over the world in effect puts me into someone else's local patch once a week and I'm very conscious of not treading on anyone's toes. With both those things in mind, I've decided to gather and post my thoughts on "forest etiquette" - a summary of behaviour that I believe is appropriate when I consider visiting or birding in a forest. I'm not saying for one minute that this is a set of guidelines that I think everyone should adopt, but if I'm challenged to think about my birding - or the effect my birding might have on the habitat that I'm in - then it's important (and useful)for me to do so...

• Think. A forest is a precious and wondrous place. Worldwide they're shrinking fast and increasingly disturbed. A forest doesn't need me, but I need it. I feel alive and recharged when I've been in a forest. I don't ever want to lose that feeling, so I don't: I think about where I am, I try to learn all the time.
• Forests are fragile. I always try to be responsible. Forests exist as a complex web - upper storeys protecting lower storeys, which in turn protect life on the forest floor. I try not to do anything to damage that web. If there isn't a path, I don't make one. I look where I walk - I do what I can to avoid snapping or treading on seedlings or - Heaven forbid - a threatened plant species. I'm careful. Yes, obviously my being there and walking around is a disturbance in itself, and I'm certain I've trodden where I shouldn't have, but I do what i can: I don't ever go into posted areas, climb fences, or ignore signs. And I never litter.
• Wildlife comes first. I want to see as many birds, mammals, insects etc as I can - but I want to see them behaving naturally. I want to see them well - and that means being quiet, wearing dull clothing, walking slowly. Disturb the habitat, and you inevitably disturb the wildlife. I'm not a tracker, supernaturally silent, or an invisible presence - but I try to be. I fail a lot of the time, but I always try.
• The forest isn't mine. I'm usually more of an uninvited guest than a stakeholder. For all I know local conservationists may have fought long battles so that I can walk here. I always respect what local birders ask of me. I share my data - it may be important and it may be useful. It may not be - but I don't assume that it isn't, because I just don't know.
• Give back as much as I take. It's a privilege to be able go to so many of the most beautiful places on the planet. If I can help in their conservation - even it's just by a write-up on a small website like this one - then I should do. If I can help in any way, just ask me!