With an area of 85 square kilometres, Christmas Island National Park takes up almost two-thirds of the island and extends into the seas around the island. It is home to rainforests, wetlands, coral reefs and a huge number of endemic species.
The island is also known as the kingdom of the crabs. You can see more than 20 different land crabs here, including the enormous robber crab. But our best-known crustaceans are the tens of millions of red crabs, whose annual migration from the rainforest to the ocean is one of the world’s great natural spectacles.
Around 80,000 seabirds call the island home, including gorgeous frigatebirds and the endangered Abbott’s booby.
Offshore, coral reefs teem with hundreds of tropical fish species and many other marine animals. Visitors often get the chance to swim or dive with dolphins, whale sharks, turtles and mantas.
Today Christmas Island has around 2000 residents. The most common ancestries reported by residents are: Chinese (the largest ethnic group), Australian, Malay, English and Irish.
For years we had been inspired by David Attenborough's classic documentary to catch the Red Crab Migration of millions of the creatures blanketing the rainforests, settlements and shoreline.
The migration starts with the first rainfall of the wet season. This is usually in October or November, but can sometimes be as late as December or January.
Red crabs all over the island leave their homes at the same time and start marching towards the ocean to mate and spawn. Male crabs lead the migration and are joined by females along the way.
The exact timing and speed of the migration is determined by the phase of the moon. Red crabs always spawn before dawn on a receding high-tide during the last quarter of the moon. Incredibly, they know exactly when to leave their burrows to make this lunar date.
However, because crabs wait until the first rainfall to start their trek, they sometimes have to hurry. If the rains arrive close to the optimal spawning date, they will move rapidly. But if the rain comes early they may take their time, stopping to eat and drink on their way to the coast.
They're Off!
Having booked everything for November on an informed guess, based on El Niño predictions back in March, we were gobsmacked when it rained overnight on Christmas Island the day before departure. Even better, the crabs were off on their migration from the interior of the island to the coast. Bingo, we've won the crab lottery!
We're Off!
We have a 6am start to be at Perth airport for our flight to Christmas Island or CI. Mountains of eskies, cardboard boxes and suitcases are lined up. The CI locals only get supplies by freighter fortnightly in the shops, so they stock up mightily. Air freight is more frequent, but mega expensive.
I settle into my seat on the Airbus 320 and, bloody hell, discover a tick latched on between my thumb and index finger! We refuel at remote Learmouth military airfield because it is not always sure to have good weather for landing on CI, in which case, the plane has to make the trip either 400km to Jakarta or all the 1000s of kms back to Perth.
Our second stop is Cocos and Keeling Islands with its perfect white beaches, blue shores, and soothing breezes, the smell and warmth of the tropics. Yet again, we refuel. Food is a bit sparse on the onward flight, crackers and a half of a chicken sandwich.
CI airport is a community affair where we bump into Wendy from the Tourist information Centre and Lisa from Indian Ocean Experience who cobbled together flights, accommodation and rental car for us.
I sign the papers for our battered Rav4 hire car and am told by the lady if I don't like, just talk to Soong who runs a small fleet of very elderly 4wd rental cars. Driving stories of dead batteries, bald tyres, old bangers have prepared us for the worst. Our reality was a Toyota Rav4 AWD that had 213,000kms, dents all over, good tyres, almost everything worked, climbed like a goat, bounced like a hero over potholes, and sped like a stallion. My kind of bush wagon! Want one!
Lisa explained why there was an improvement on all the bad luck stories. A few months back, police happened to see a bloke in a hire car without his seatbelt on. Closer inspection revealed the reason: the belt mounting was no longer there. Police handed their last yellow impoundment ticket to the carhire operator, then had to order more tickets from WA for a general audit of CI car hire companies which resulted in 5 more tickets for bald tyres, dodgy seatbelts, etc. The rental operators, especially Soong, took notice because impoundment took the cars off the road for a while which affected revenue.
Off we sped towards the Settlement and were immediately greeted in the middle of the road by a red crab, one of the 60 million that was considering making a move after a shower of rain the night before. Also in attendance were zillions of chooks, wild descendants of jungle fowl, running rampant across the Island.
First impressions of the Settlement, the centre of CI is one of dilapidated concrete buildings industrial phosphate infrastructure, and rundown appearance of large council blocks with dozens of satellite dishes. As we eased into life on CI during our 11 days, we found the gritty exterior concealed a warm, fuzzy atmosphere of quirky island life.
Rumah Biru or the Blue House was our base for our stay, a converted servants' quarters with all we needed: big fridge to keep the drinks cool, fans and aircon, great shower, and lovely couple, Emma, Al and sprog, running it. A crab greeted us on the doorstep. Everything was dry, not the customary lush green, after 3 months no rain. The previous night's rain had been just a drop, but enough to start the crabs on their migration.
Time for an arrival celebration. Off we went 300m up the street to the excellent Golden Bosun pub which fronts the ocean and has a great deck to contemplate the setting sun, complete with aerial maestro frigatebirds and boobies, the avian kind. Dinner was a gorgeous Shiraz wine and porterhouse steak.
18th
Next day, Gen takes a chair to the front lawn where Golden Bosuns, beautiful flashes of yellow glinting in the sun, are soaring above.
The white-tailed tropicbird, or golden bosun, is a Christmas Island icon. Slightly smaller than the red-tailed tropicbird, this beautiful seabird is found from the western Pacific to the Caribbean. But Christmas Island is home to a unique subspecies whose gold-tinged feathers have earned it its local name – the golden bosun. Golden bosuns forage at sea, diving into the water to feed on fish and squid. They breed all year round on Christmas Island, laying their eggs in rock crevices and the hollows of rainforest trees.
The local copshop provides us with a free Personal Locator Beacon (PLB) for the duration of our stay, not least because most of the island outside the settlement has no reception...plus handy for us as a little leeway for the vagaries of the hire car fleet in case we break down.
We stock up at the CI Supermarket in town on amazingly cheap (tax free) Gordons Gin at $14 a bottle, and gasp at the prices of everything else...a cucumber for $12 anyone? I settle for a slab of Malaysian dry tonics to fuel our happy hour G&Ts, Gen buys everything else carefully. Fuel is $3.07 a litre. Life on CI is expensive because obviously 90% of supplies have to be brought in as expensive freight, and no, the 60 million red crabs are not really edible.
From the supermarket we trundle past the perfect snorkelling beach of Flying Fish Cove, then on to Taijin Government House, stopping only at the only traffic lights on the island.
A winding road leads to the Territory Park Lookout where we are at eye level with those beautiful bosuns, frigatebirds, and boobies whilst we look out to sea and across Flying Fish Cove.
Christmas Island red crabs are large crabs with the carapace measuring up to 116 millimetres (4.6 in) wide. The claws are usually of equal size, unless one becomes injured or detached, in which case the limb will regenerate. The male crabs are generally larger than the females, while adult females have a much broader abdomen (only apparent above 3 years of age) and usually have smaller claws. Bright red is their most common color, but some can be orange or the much rarer purple.
Like most land crabs, red crabs use gills to breathe and must take great care to conserve body moisture. We saw several dessicated corpses out in the open.
Red crabs grow slowly, reaching sexual maturity at around 4–5 years, at which point they begin participating in the annual migration. During their early growth phases, red crabs will moult several times. Mature red crabs will moult once a year, usually in the safety of their burrow. Their lifespan is about 12 years. They mostly eat fallen leaves, fruits, flowers and seedlings, but will also feed on dead animals (including cannibalising other red crabs), and human rubbish.
Adult red crabs have no natural predators on Christmas Island. The yellow crazy ant, an invasive species accidentally introduced to Christmas Island and Australia from Africa, is believed to have killed 10–15 million red crabs (one-quarter to one-third of the total population) in recent years. In total (including killed), the ants are believed to have displaced 15–20 million red crabs on Christmas Island. Recent attempts to eradicate the scale insects the crazy ants depend on, seems to be helping.
The crab bridge on Murray Road is an impressive arch for dextrous crabs to scale to cross the road rather than make crab pate when squished by passing cars. Nearby is a picturesque locomotive, covered in jungle foliage, slowly rusting away.
19th
Our drive next day comes to a stop under a roadside nesting site for boobies where an unfortunate red legged booby juvenile has fallen and now lies with a broken wing in the road. Lisa springs out of her minibus that happens to be passing, wraps the protesting youngster in a towel, and takes it back to the Rehabilitation Centre in the Settlement where, sadly, it is euthanized. It has no chance of survival, nature has its way.
Passing the old Chinese cemetery, we get to The Grotto, a source of turquoise fresh water for crabs and birds alike.
A flight of steps leads down to Ethel Beach which has been visited by turtles ready to dig nests. Hermit crab footprints lead all over the sand. Up in the trees are more boobies and frigatebirds preening and plotting their dastardly deeds of piracy.
The critically endangered Christmas Island frigatebird is endemic to Christmas Island. With a wingspan of up to 2.5 metres, they can be differentiated from the great frigatebird (a close relative) by the white patch on their belly. The male has a bright red throat pouch (called a gular) that he blows up like a balloon to attract females during the mating season. These frigatebirds fly vast distances to feed and are known for stealing the catch of other seabirds. They can be seen in Indonesia, but Christmas Island is the only place in the world where they breed, building nests in the forest canopy.
At Lily Beach we find a group picnic in action, kids cavorting in the sandy bay.
We can't get enough of the Murray Road red crabs, so pop back to listen to the loud clicking of the aggregated pincers as they continue to head to the sea.
Given there must be millions of jungle chooks on the loose, they do occasionally land up as roadkill, but they don't appear to be on the menu, just occasionally as the Chinese delicacy of 100 year eggs. The real roadkill is the crab pate patina on the road where the phosphate road trains barrel along between the mines and the loading bay.
Then there are zombie crabs to add to the slalom. Just as you estimate to straddle a crustacean, it turns out to be a 'creaf', a dried, dead, upturned or downturned leaf on the road that is mighty deceptive.
20th
Up nice and early in the day, we have a very near miss at the phosphate loading works when a ute, blinded by the rising sun, dodges us by millimetres. Not realising this is an unintended error, we pull over to let what we think is an impatient imbecile pass. The ute pulls up next to us and a local mineworker hops out to apologise, explains the sun problem, gives me a true bro handshake and a smile before we part best of friends.
Our destination is Greta Beach, but before we get there on the narrow, dirt track, we stop at a freshwater stream which is a magnet for blue and red crabs waving convincing pincers and hiding under a log.
A nifty trail leads to Greta Beach where we see a moray eel lurking on the edge of the beach (apparently they come up onto the sand sometimes), frigate birds swooping the surface of the sea, and flotsam and jetsam carried all the way from Indonesia. A tripod of branches protects a turtle nest.
Following South Point Road, we pass major phosphate mining activity, then continue to the now abandoned previous centre of CI activity (moved to allow mining underneath) and some Chinese temples.
For the afternoon, we head to the Bird Rehabilitation Centre at Australia Parks HQ where Chrissie, the rehabilitation lady, explains the patients are mostly juveniles, but none have names to avoid staff becoming too attached. Recuperated birds are free to come and go from a liftoff balcony. Some enjoy free board and lodging so much, it takes them a while to understand there is another world waiting for them outside.
Curiously, the supply of fish from CI locals is too erratic, so expensive, a la carte pilchards are flown in from WA.
A frigatebird lurks on top of the enclosure and I soon realise why he has such a mirthful gleam in his eye when he poops on an unsuspecting visitor underneath.
A bullyboy, boisterous, brown booby is temporarily locked in the naughty room so he realises bullying is not the done thing here.
The rest of the patients are an assortment of mostly youngster tropicbirds, boobies, and frigatebirds that fell out of nests. Those with broken bones are mostly unhealable and euthanised.
21st
Today is time to hit the narrow, jungly track, jump ups included, to fabulous Dolly Beach. The 40 minute hiking trail leads past blue crabs and amazingly colourful, robber crabs at freshwater streams. What a magic spot where robber crabs are renowned for joining your picnic.
The amazing coconut crab is a terrestrial species of giant hermit crab, and is also known as the robber crab or palm thief. It is the largest terrestrial arthropod known, with a weight of up to 4.1 kg. The distance from the tip of one leg to the tip of another can be as wide as 1 m. They love shiny things, are always curious, ready to investigate and run off with picnic food or cutlery, researchers' expensive trailcams, and even golfers' favourite clubs which they snap off with their incredibly powerful pincers!
Robber crabs forage on the forest floor, feeding mainly on fruits, seeds and the pith of fallen trees, especially the Arenga palm. They also scavenge at the carcasses of dead animals (including other crabs) and may prey on turtle hatchlings. Robber crabs are exceptional climbers and can often be seen slowly making their way up tree trunks or along rock faces.
The robber crabs are good to eat, tasting like a cross between a mud crab and a lobster. But while they are considered a delicacy with aphrodisiac qualities across the Pacific, they are a protected species in Australia and can't be eaten. CI is about the last place on the planet where they flourish and number a few 1000. Here you have the world’s largest and best protected population of these gentle giants, which can live to be more than 50 years old.
Driving outside the migration is relatively crabfree, however there are still a few scuttling across the road, and sadly, mea culpa today, red crabicide happens.
The scenic Blowholes road takes us to some impressive strangler fig trees.
22nd
Off to Hugh's Dale today, in the northwestern region of the island. We pass the notorious refugee detention centre now mothballed.
The trail winds in and out of monsoon rainforest and the highlight is a clearing with a freshwater stream offering shade and moisture to hundreds of blue crabs and robber crabs. Under Tahitian chestnut trees, a cheeky, bold Christmas Island thrush makes a show at bathing time.
23rd
Next morning, as a result of much researching, I track down the location of the Sitting Room, a spot overlooking the ocean, just 3 minutes' walk from Rumah Biru, where a brown booby, known for being very passive, sits there looking goofy. Apparently, the term Boobie is derived from the Spanish 'bobo' or 'silly' because early mariners thought the birds too easy to catch.
Next morning, as a result of much researching, I track down the location of the Sitting Room, a spot overlooking the ocean, just 3 minutes' walk from Rumah Biru, where a brown booby, known for being very passive, sits there looking goofy. Apparently, the term Boobie is derived from the Spanish 'bobo' or 'silly' because early mariners thought the birds too easy to catch.
Later we head to Waterfall Cove where we shimmy down a rope assisted slope to watch frigatebirds skimming the beach pools fed by a freshwater stream. The cove is part of the famous Christmas Resort and Casino, now very dilapidated and long out of use. In the early 2000s, Indonesia proscribed gambling. CI investors made billions of dollars with the casino resort attracting Indonesian highrollers from Jakarta just 500kms away.
In the afternoon, we went to the centre of CI to the Pink House, a National Parks establishment to see critically endangered Blue Tailed Skinks and Lister's Gecko.
Christie, an enthusiastic local with 8 years under her belt on CI, is the skinklady, irrepressibly infatuated with her skinks, a glorious motormouth waterfall of information.
The main predators are the unintentional import, the asian wolf snake, cats, giant centipedes, and very nasty yellow crazy ants. The skink populations here and on Cocos Island and at Taronga Zoo Sydney have grown from 100 to several 1000s. Neat rows of boxes are divided into breeding, eggs, and incubating adults sunbathing, jinking and jiving on bark. A factoid Christie mentioned was that Cocos island is only 5 metres above sea level and is expected to be underwater in 50 years.
On the roads all over CI, we saw baited cages to catch feral cats which are a major pest. We never saw a kitty in the box even though there appeared to be a delicious plate of smelly food in each one.
After a brief stop at Martin's Point to take in the cliffside views, we took a pothole slalom to arrive in time for high tide at the spectacular Blowholes where a landscape of jagged volcanic rocks dotted with brown boobies is interspersed with awe inspiring blowholes, emitting the sound of dragons roaring and jetting high above. Feel the spray, nature on full display.
24th
In the morning, we found the approach to the casino coned off by security. Perhaps we'd been lucky to slip in the day before. That was a silver lining because when we stopped at the cones, we spotted a cute white-eye sucking nectar on a hibiscus.
The roadside communities of red footed boobies were always good for a stroll - don't open your mouth when looking up - where the birds were yawning and seemingly waving their webbed feet.
For a change, we took the fun Lily Beach to Ethel Beach boardwalk, stopping at a lookout where frigatebirds were sharing trees with boobies.
Further into the centre of the island, the best lookout of all was Margaret Knoll, a splendid vista from the rainforest down to the coastline and the sea reaching to the horizon. Bats, the only indigenous mammals on CI, would waft up from the jungle below and silently glide past.
Another visit to the Blowholes, such an impressive place at high tide and sunset, yielded more brown boobies, and gargantuan spray huffing and puffing in the last rays of the sun.
As night fell, we drove slowly, avoiding owls flitting after insects attracted by our headlights. The only roundabout in CI had an illuminated display of reindeer and sleigh.
25th
Saturday was a day to kick back and revel in the sheer delight of CI.
Rumah Tinggi or the Tall House (Malay) is a lovely colonial style house with a coconut palm dotted lawn looking out across the Indian Ocean. On Saturday afternoons it opens for drinks, cocktails and snacks. Locals and blow-ins flock to sit on the covered verandah, lay out rugs on the lawn or sit at tables beside the edge of the ocean.
We order margaritas and take a seat in the cool breeze. There is a wonderful atmosphere: toddlers holding coconuts tear around squeaking with delight; locals gather for laughs and banter; tourists chatter through the adventures of the day. A kestrel perches without fear in the midst of the mob. Pink clouds scud across the twilight horizon. The island breathes contentment and relaxation.
26th
It took a fair bit of detective work to find the Chinese gravestone that marks the entrance to the trail to the Golf Course Lookout which is a bit of a slog for the knees of old crusties.
We turned to Lisa, Queen of the CI Jungle, to lead us to Hidden Garden, a farm near the airport where the enterprising farmer has built a freshwater dam which attracts dozens of frigatebirds, all 3 species, which whirl and swirl before skimming dramatically for a drink. Amazing to see males, females, juveniles, doing their superb aeronautical stunt flying. Sadly, very occasionally a young bird misjudges its flying calculations and drowns unless a local bird lover can fish it out with an improvised net or ladder as happened the day before.
27th
Today was a snorkelling day, to see a brilliantly coloured community of fish including electric blue, parrot fish. We watched the diveboats dock, boats being launched off the ramp, and maintenance barges scurrying to and fro for the phosphate mining company. I wonder what will happen to the community of Chinese, Malays, Aussies and their way of life when mining stops in 2034.
On our last day, we drop off our PLB where the policewoman says mine is the first positive comment she's heard for Soong's car rentals.
28th
On our last day, we drop off our PLB where the policewoman says mine is the first positive comment she's heard for Soong's car rentals.
We discovered that the town roundabout had been decorated for Christmas.
What a trip, absolutely perfect stay in the Galapagos of Australia.
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Christmas Island, Australia, Tropicbird, Red Crab, Red Crabs, Frigatebird
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