Travel: A charmed encounter with birds-of-paradise in Papua’s Arfak Mountains

ARFAK MOUNTAINS, Indonesia — Seblon Mandacan scampers with ease up the slippery footpath through the forest in the Arfak Mountains. I follow slowly. It’s about 4 a.m. and the sky’s still dark. Wearing headlamps, we cut through the forest mist here at an elevation of about 1,900 meters (6,200 feet) above sea level. I find it a struggle to get up this early and steel myself for the walk. The wind knifes through the multiple layers of clothing I’ve put on, and the cold cuts to the bone. It rained the previous night, making the trek that much more taxing. I have to grasp tree trunks and branches to avoid slipping, and step gingerly to make sure the ground is solid.

But that’s the price I’m willing to pay to reach the “playground” of the greater superb bird-of-paradise (Lophorina superba), known locally as nyet, a bird species endemic to the Papua region of Indonesia. “They start to flock to the playground between 6 and 7 a.m.,” says Seblon, 18, pointing to a moss-covered fallen tree that the birds are said to frequent. “Let’s hide under this blind so the birds won’t be able to see us,” he says. We wait in silence beneath the tarpaulin for about an hour and a half, not moving even to smack the mosquitoes landing on us, for fear of making noise. I’ve heard that this particular bird species is very sensitive to noise and difficult to encounter.

And then, faintly, there’s a chirp from afar.

Seblon points to the fallen log again, where a male superb bird-of-paradise has now perched. It looks around for a bit, appearing to be assessing any threats, before calling out to its female partner. When the latter arrives, a spectacular show immediately gets underway. The male flares out the patch of shiny blue feathers on its neck, which glow against the legendarily void-like black of the rest of its body, and dances around the female. With every passing minute it puts on a different act, none of which I will ever forget.

When the dance is over and the birds are gone, I can’t stop thanking Seblon profusely for the experience that I’ve now captured on camera.