
Hundreds of years ago, there was talk of “semimythical islands” that existed somewhere west of Europe. To get to these islands, one would have to brave the rolling waters of the mighty Atlantic for several weeks with likely only a hunch that there was a destination. These islands were termed “Antilia”, and when the Spanish laid eyes on them for the first time, they were then called “Antillas”. Today, we call this diverse group of islands “Antilles” – comprising all the islands of the Caribbean except The Bahamas. The larger islands to the north are the Greater Antilles: Cuba, Hispañola, and Jamaica; the Lesser Antilles are the rest of the island arc heading south, ending at Grenada.
The Lesser Antilles aren’t the most popular of destinations: tell anyone that you’ve been to Dominica and they’ll likely say “Oh yeah I’ve always wanted to visit the Dominican Republic”. It’s therefore little surprise that there are a number of birds that are scattered across these idyllic islands that aren’t found anywhere else in the world – and often are tragically seriously threatened if not already extinct. I had fortunately been tasked with guiding birders across the Lesser Antilles earlier this year on an epic multi-island odyssey in search of all the endemics of the region – and while the mass of gathered adventures is simply too much to share (I did the trip twice), I’ve decided to condense the experience to a bite-size highlight reel here.
Antigua and Barbuda
Unseasonal winds prevented us from going to Barbuda both times (although we got to as far as the dock on the January trip) so there was sadly no Barbuda Warbler to add to the list. Nevertheless Antigua provided ample opportunity to explore at leisure, some folks went snorkelling, others enjoyed poking around a couple wetlands – the only true ones of the trip. Someone even found a Western Reef-Heron hiding out in the mangroves. Other, much more regular suspects were around including Little Blue Heron, Green Heron, Yellow (Golden) Warbler, Pied-billed Grebe, and White-crowned Pigeon. Doves were widespread throughout the region, as I learned this is a consequence of their endurance and willingness to employ their superior flight capabilities to explore new, distant lands.

White-crowned Pigeon
Barbados
An island nation replete with non-native species, from green monkeys to Eurasian Collared Dove and Ring-necked Parakeet, this Atlantic member of the Caribbean now boasts its very own endemic bird: the Barbados Bullfinch. There are also endemic subspecies for the nitpickers among us, the Carib Grackle comes to mind. Nevertheless, this sun-kissed and windswept island was the final destination on both trips, white sand beaches beckoned and served as a suitable cooldown after a hectic two weeks.

On neither of the trips this year did I remove my camera from the bag while on Barbados, so here’s a Bajan Scaly-naped Pigeon from a previous visit.
Dominica
One of the wildest islands in the region, the self-proclaimed “Nature Isle” certainly deserves its reputation. With most of its forest still intact, Dominica’s green northern mountains draws a misty curtain around its carefully guarded secret: the Sisserou, its national bird. Found only on this island, it is Critically Endangered and arguably one of the toughest birds on the planet to get a look at. It is the largest of the Amazona genus and goes by an equally impressive moniker: Imperial Amazon. This bird is the reason we spend three days on this gorgeous island, the reason we tolerate getting soaked in some of the Caribbean’s coldest showers, and the reason why we sometimes ignore other incredible endemic species like Plumbeous Warbler and Red-legged Thrush. There were times where we drove past feeding Blue-headed Hummingbirds in an ardent quest to get to the lookout point to spend a few hours scanning the adjacent hills for even a fleeting glimpse of this massive parrot. Even Dominica’s other endemic parrot (yes there are two!) has to put on its best show to tear us away from the hunt for the Imperial Amazon. I’ve never considered myself a lucky man, but I’ve since seen this bird three times out of three visits to Dominica – so by that metric alone I should start investigating a lottery.

An Imperial Amazon is sitting on this bunch of palm fruit on the right side of the trunk. Significantly better view than what I got when I first visited.
Grenada
The southernmost island of the Lesser Antilles arc doesn’t get a great deal of traffic, but the little it does is often directed to the mountainous north of the island – to a picturesque national park strewn with large, bromeliad-laden trees. For most visitors, the main attraction here is a population of Mona monkeys, also introduced from West Africa via the horrific transatlantic slave trade not dissimilar from the green monkeys of Barbados. For birds, however, the main attraction is in the dry south, where Grenada’s national bird, the Critically Endangered Grenada Dove, continues to struggle to carve out its existence.

Grenada Dove
Guadeloupe
Guadeloupe is an island that is really a pair of islands linked by a couple well constructed bridges. One is distinctly wilder than the other – and it is within this verdant paradise where we are inundated with sightings of Brown Trembler and Lesser Antillean Bullfinch, along with Pearly-eyed Thrasher and its smaller cousin Scaly-breasted Thrasher. Our main target here was the Guadeloupe Woodpecker that of course, is only found in Guadeloupe – and is the only woodpecker in the Lesser Antilles! However, there were other birds that were arguably more coveted than this unique looking woodpecker. Secretive forest dwellers endemic to the Lesser Antilles that are near impossible in other islands had been staked out, and on both trips we therefore enjoyed captivating views of Forest Thrush and Bridled Quail-Dove.

Guadeloupe Woodpecker
Martinique
The second of two French overseas territories (Guadeloupe being the other), Martinique also revels in European infrastructure in a Caribbean setting. Narrow but well-paved roads carve their way through the mountains, and national parks are well maintained and monitored. Blue-headed Hummingbird and the absolutely drop-dead gorgeous Martinique Oriole were fairly straightforward in the mountains, but the frightfully endangered Martinique Thrasher was only present in the dry forest on a 5 square kilometre peninsula, and required a bit of a walk. It was refreshing to see a number of traps set out for invasive mongoose and rats. Now, if Grenada would take a page out of this book.

Martinique Thrasher
Montserrat
Arguably the most charming of all the islands we visited, the go-slow on Montserrat is evident from the moment one arrives on the island. Which we did in parts – due to the aircraft only having six seats. Immigration was a single officer behind a desk, and customs was nonexistent on the first visit and on the second, a handsome, gangly man that waved us along. The breeze was cool, consistent, and Caribbean – yet there was a palpable, unspeakable yet quiet energy around. Our target was singular, a view of another endangered bird: Montserrat Oriole. To be fair, there was another target – but this was the reason for much of the quietness on the island: Soufriére Hills, the still-steaming volcano that poured lava and ash all over the capital city in 1995.

Montserrat Oriole
St. Lucia
Of all the islands in the Lesser Antilles, St. Lucia is the one with the most endemic birds. From the recently declared St. Lucia Wren to the St. Lucia Black Finch, St. Lucia Thrasher, St. Lucia Oriole, St. Lucia Warbler and St. Lucia Amazon, there were more than enough avian targets to keep us busy for three days. While it may seem that the wren would be the easiest having formerly been lumped together with the House Wren complex, this white-chested version was clearly never meant to be associated with houses and proved to be the most difficult bird on both trips. The warbler was fairly ubiquitous, and we enjoyed this one in lieu of its Barbuda counterpart (they were once considered to be conspecific and may eventually return to that state). Thrashers were also tough cookies, as were the black finches. On the first trip most of the group missed the oriole entirely, even though we had some fleeting encounters. The second trip there was a St. Lucia Oriole that foraged directly overhead, even tossing a few dry twigs on us. Despite all of these attractions, the star of the island is undoubtedly the multicoloured St. Lucia Amazon, the country’s national bird.

St. Lucia Amazon
St. Vincent
Another country with a parrot as its national bird, the St. Vincent Amazon also carries the country’s national colours in its plumage. Its story is one of measured success, with concerted conservation efforts bearing fruit in the form of a steadily increasing population. The fate of the much smaller, duller, and far less often encountered Whistling Warbler is a bit different, however. Confined to moist forest on volcanic hillsides, this strange looking warbler is potentially one of the most difficult of the selection of regional birds to find.

On one of the trips we encountered a (relatively) massive flock of more than 20 St. Vincent Amazons. A Broad-winged Hawk flew over as they were feeding on the trees around us and they all erupted in a whirling, squawking mass that left everyone overwhelmed.
See some more highlights from my adventures in the Lesser Antilles here.
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