Stalking the Elusive Platypus

Gauss's former classmate, Alison Rowell, a biologist, treated us to a day exploring the Tidbinbilla Nature Preserve in the hills west of Canberra. We were accompanied by another classmate, Jenny Longstaff, visiting from New Zealand.

We arrived around noon and started with a make-your-own-sandwich picnic of roasted chicken and garden vegetables Alison had packed for us. She also served apples, oranges, and a fruit that was new to us, golden kiwis. They have a smoother texture inside and out, and a tangier flavor than the green ones we get here.

The picnic area was known as a place where emus congregated, but there were none to be found. Still, I was taken with the wallabys and the flocks of pink and gray galahs that browsed on the grounds.

The nature preserve features a loop road connecting a series of natural areas with hiking paths. One of the trails leads to Hanging Rock, an enormous boulder balanced on the side of a hill, believed to have been used as a shelter by aboriginal people.

On our way back to the car, we spotted a swamp wallaby on the path just past a bridge over a creek.

Our longest hike was on a trail that winds among a group of ponds. As we passed the first pond, Alison suggested that we look across the water to a small island near the other side.

“You might see platypus there,” she said. “Look for a little ripple in the water, like you might see when a fish breaks the surface. That's how I usually find platypuses here. You probably won't see any up close.”

We scanned the surface for some time, but if there were any platypuses in the pond, they weren't showing themselves. We moved on, a chorus of chirping frogs in the background, to the next pond where two magnificent white and black pelicans paddled among smaller coots and ducks.

Two mature black swans, with ruffly feathers and showy red beaks, escorted their cygnets across the water. No platypuses, however.

“There's another pond way in the back where I usually see a platypus,” Alison told us.

We hiked to the remote location, disturbing a flock of sulfur-crested cockatoos, who screeched and took refuge at the top of a gum tree. The four of us scanned the surface of the water for some time, but there was no movement except for a few ducks who paddled back and forth, so we walked back to the main path. It took us around the side of the first pond we'd encountered, so we scanned the area near the small island again for platypuses, but the water remained calm.

“I guess a platypus siting isn't in the cards for us today,” I remarked as we stood at the water's edge.

As I turned toward the exit path, movement caught my eye. In another small pond off to the left, behind a dam, I thought I saw a beaver. Wait a minute—there are no beavers in Australia!

“I think I see something,” I said to the group, and walked quickly to a vantage point.

There, skimming along was a little brown body that blooped under the water like an otter. A platypus! The others joined me and as we watched, another platypus emerged from the reeds on the other side of the small pond. We stood for some minutes, watching the platypuses diving down and then breaking the surface again and again. We could tell for certain that there were two, and perhaps even three. The animals were too small and elusive to be photographed effectively, and I was too busy watching to get out the camera, so there are no photos. But seeing them made my Australia bucket list complete!