Welcome to Birdland

It’s not an open zoo or an animal sanctuary. It’s not even a place casual visits are welcomed. Nevertheless, travellers with an interest in wildlife should check out an astonishing, natural habitat not 50 kilometres from Melbourne’s CBD – Werribee’s Western Treatment Plant.

“Most birders [birdwatchers] who know about Melbourne know about this place,” says guide, Steve Davidson. Perhaps non-birders would become interested in it, too, if they knew what was in store.

The plant, a modern sewage facility, is also a Ramsar-listed wetlands of international significance, home to tens of thousands of local and migratory birds. It offers world-class bird watching and springtime heralds the return of vast flocks from their winter breeding grounds in Siberia and the Arctic Circle.

Having flown for up to eight weeks, species with names like the Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, Whiskered Tern, Red-necked Stint and Greenshank arrive, emaciated, and begin a feeding frenzy. I went in search of these extraordinary aviators on a wet day in late August.

The plant—big and flat —is an enormous patchwork of filtration ponds and lagoons, converting around 500 million litres of raw sewage a day into non-toxic effluent.

Melbourne Water tries to balance running it with the conservation needs of the birds and birdwatchers’ interests—it will never be a tourist park. It’s not easy to find your way around, with kilometres of tracks, few road signs and maps featuring unenlightening names like “145WB Lagoon”. As a rotten navigator, I take advantage of self-styled “Melbourne Birder” Davidson’s guiding skills and book a half-day tour.

As we speed along Princes Freeway past the local, open range zoo, Davidson explains what’s in it for the birds here. Year-round, the ponds consist of thick, nutritious sludge that supports water plants, microscopic organisms and insects, a reliable avian food source. Despite their ingredients, they don’t smell too bad at all.

Bordering western Port Phillip Bay, the plant has numerous natural wetlands – swamps, tidal mudflats, rivers and saltmarsh – and low, straggly scrub. All harbour an enormous range of birds. The birders love it. “You can come here and see the amazing sight of thousands and thousands of birds, or you can see something that’s incredibly rare,” notes Davidson.

The first birds we see on charmingly named Paradise Road are, naturally, ducks. Even a birder on L-plates can tell apart the various species. There are Teal, Pink-eared, Musk and Blue-billed. Our four-wheel drive proves the perfect bird “hide”; none take flight when we approach.

Davidson suggests we circuit “General access” and “Special access” routes. Both areas require a permit from Melbourne Water, as there are hazards associated with the sewage treatment works.

At a place called Walsh Lagoon, he points out long-legged waders like the Black-winged Stilt and the superb Red-necked Avocet, with its thin, turned-up bill, and vibrant, chestnut head on a snowy white, black-winged body.

It begins raining and soon visibility is poor. Through a soft mist, we watch birds swim, dive and fossick in the shallows. A flock of Black Swans takes off with great wing-beats and unfurled necks.

Lake Borrie, the largest lagoon, is distinctive for its eerie forest of half-submerged, dead trees. Folded-up pelicans squat like Buddhas atop wooden nesting boxes. We scan the water carefully, looking for the first Cape Barren goslings of the season.

Werribee’s landscape is monotonous; the only landmark is the distant You Yangs. Moonah and Tuart trees line a couple of ponds; vegetation is shrubby, low, dull red and green. But if you look hard, in those bushes you’ll see tiny, neon-blue Fairy-wrens and sweet-voiced Brown Thornbills flitting about, or finches – slashes of colour – bouncing right across your path.

As we skirt a lagoon lined with tall, yellow grasses, we surprise a huge raptor, the dun-brown Swamp Harrier. Not three metres away, it takes off in what looks like slow motion.

Davidson spots a couple of White-bellied Sea Eagles lifting off with something in their talons. We watch mesmerised as they land nearby and tear at their meal - a small bird. It’s a David Attenborough moment.

Finally, in mudflats, we see some of the newly arrived waders. Davidson helpfully points out two different species that, initially, blurred into one. Brownish-plumaged and beautiful, I silently salute the Curlew and Sharp-tailed Sandpipers that have come from so far away.

Even if you don’t know much about birds, this place has a special magic. It hosts herons and cormorants as tall as a child, three kinds of ibis, with their umbrella-handle bills, and a dozen majestic birds of prey. And what’s not to like about our spoonbills, with their weird beaks like big, yellow cutlery? Around 270 species have been recorded; on a full day’s tour, you might see one hundred.

A bird guidebook comes in handy, plus a spirit of adventure. If you’re intrepid, this place provides an unforgettable experience.

Birds are as ubiquitous as the air yet, trapped in our cities, we scarcely register them. The Western Treatment Plant reminds us that we can still witness these wild creatures in their natural habitat. BYO binoculars.