IN FROG HEAVEN:
A personal account of the VFG Trip to East Gippsland

Written by Dave Black and published in early 1997 in "In the Spotlight".

PROLOGUE:

I spent my November last year wandering around the Baw Baw Plateau searching for the enigmatic Baw Baw Frog (Philoria frosti). That is, I spent the few fine days we had battling through shrubbery and the rest of the time looking out of the window of our lodge watching the trees bend in the wind or wondering how there could be so much snow around in late spring. On the days when the survey team was out, I would trek about for several hours and, on the best days, might actually locate (by sound) as many as four Baw Baw Frogs. In my time with the survey team, I never actually saw or handled a frog.

This was my state of mind when I heard about the Victorian Frog Group expedition to East Gippsland. Now that sounded just what I needed, an abundance of frogs (both in numbers and varieties) in beautiful locales. I signed up immediately.

IN HEAVEN:

Although I was still looking forward to those picturesque locales, I was not above beginning our search for frogs at the far-from-scenic Cann River landfill site. I had fond memories of this place, as two years ago I had found the only Rocky River Tree Frog (Litoria lesueuri) of the expedition here and the first that I had seen outside of captivity. Once again I was not disappointed - turning over a log, I found my first Dendy's Toadlet (Pseudophyrne dendyi). It is far from being a rare frog, but I don't understand how anyone could become tired of simply watching this species walk or gazing at the swirls of the patterns on its underbelly.

It was the most fantastic start to the day, but the count didn't end with dendyi - also present amongst the refuse were several Striped Marsh Frogs (Limnodynastes peroni), a Whistling Tree Frog (Litoria verreauxi), and of course many Common Froglets (Crinia signifera). It seems that the tip site is also popular with reptiles, our searches revealing a couple of Small-eyed Snakes and a juvenile White-lipped Snake.

Not even lunchtime yet, and already I was satisfied with the day's performance. We decided to link in with Keir's group and journeyed to the coast at Point Hicks where the Thurra River opens to the sea. After a refreshing and energetic time spent on the beach, it was down to business. Keir had camped here with his family when he was a young boy and recalled finding "large green frogs" in a swamp behind the dunes. Suspecting that they may have been the Green and Golden Bell Frog (Litoria aurea), we went in search of the swamp and the legendary "dune that takes ten minutes to run down".

Some hours later, we emerged from the dunes, weary and without success. We had found no sign of water and consequentially no sign of any frog. Our hopes of "teaching those Museum researchers a thing or two" were dashed. It was time to go home. Running down the largest dune that we could find and into the cooling waters of the Thurra River was thrilling but somewhat disappointing after what we had been led to expect. But, once in the river, we looked upstream and there it was - the most enormous dune that I had seen, the stuff that (when viewed through the eyes of a ten-year-old) could become legend.

But there was no time for us to explore, already it was getting late. Instead we queried some passing tourists about "The Dune". Yes, there was a swamp at the top of it but it would take far too long for us to reach it. The tourist assistance, however, didn't stop there. Following our confession that we had been wandering the dunes in search of frogs, the tourists informed us that they had heard frogs in the reeds at the edge of the river. Incredibly, they turned out to be Litoria aurea. Abandoning all hope of returning to camp for an early dinner, we listened to, called at, captured, and photographed several of the creatures before we were sated. Just when we had become resigned to the fact that the afternoon would be frogless, it had become a bonanza, and another new species for me. This time I was sure that my life was complete.

We returned to Cann River for a late dinner, Keir speeding ahead to report the find to the Museum researchers and steal the credit that rightfully belonged to the tourists. Over dinner, we discussed the day and the approaching weather - it seemed that the evening would be cool, not the ideal weather for the Leaf Green River Tree Frog (Litoria phyllochroa) or the Blue Mountains Tree Frog (Litoria citropa), two of the remaining frogs on my list of frogs to see.

Undaunted by the weather, our team loaded the car and drove into the night, even without frogs we could enjoy ourselves. Practising our frog calls (some needing more practise than others, as anyone who heard the variations of "waaaahhrk... plonka, plonka, plonka" could attest), we headed to the Bemm River and the nearby rainforest walk. Yet again, it seemed we were in luck - in no time at all, from the walking track, we located some calling phyllochroa and then, in the distance, a calling citropa. We just listened for ages, but they were too far from the track to go searching for at this time of night (And I've had quite enough of being lost in rainforests in the middle of the night).

Instead, we searched under the bridge, and both species were present calling here also. But this time we could search, and search we did. The beautiful phyllochroa that we turned up commanded our attention for a short time (I've seen several of these before) but was almost forgotten when I laid eyes upon the magnificent Litoria citropa for the first time. It is the most amazing frog, and so photogenic. I "wasted" a lot of film on this creature, while listening to Paul discuss exactly what pose he would position the frog in for his next tattoo. It was with some reluctance that we left this spot and returned to the car.

Well that was it… surely. Nothing could make this day any better. I'd seen the citropa that was my number one wish for the trip, and several other new species as a bonus. But, more importantly, I'd had so much fun doing it and sharing it with people who understood why I enjoyed myself.

As the car rolled silently up to our campsite, having run out of petrol some hundred metres or so from the caravan park, it made a magical end to a magical day.

Author: Dave Black
Photography: Dave Black and Jodelle Ellison