Clearwing Swallowtails, Cressida cressida, lay their eggs on five different species of Aristolochia, according to Don Herbison-Evans and Stella Crossley’s great Butterflies of Australia site. Peter Valentine (Butterflies of the Townsville Area) agrees, adding that they especially patronise “the low small species scattered through the grasslands.”
The caterpillars change colour and pattern as they grow. The three below are all Clearwing caterpillars, at early, middle and late stages of development.
Cairns Birdwing caterpillars (Troides euphorion) also depend on Aristolochia – four native species of it, in fact. However, there is only one species that both kinds of caterpillars like: Aristolochia tagala.
Here for comparison are Birdwing caterpillars, showing young and old since they also change considerably as they grow:
Recently we have had both species of butterfly laying eggs on our vines and we can’t grow enough of them to feed all the caterpillars that hatch. It’s a continuation, really, of the situation we had back in May. Part of the problem is that a single caterpillar can consume a whole vine seedling within a day so we have difficulty rearing a vine past its infancy; we may have to begin growing them under wire mesh until they are well established.
When I saw this wasp (Vespidae, Eumeninae) looking so busy on the tip of an hibiscus leaf I naturally looked more closely and saw what she was after, the very slim yellowish caterpillar in its retreat.
The action didn’t last long. The wasp flew off and the caterpillar was no more to be seen; I assumed that the wasp got her prey but it’s possible that the caterpillar escaped by dropping from the leaf on a thread of the silk it used to construct its retreat.
I had seen these constructions before but never known what made them or why, so the incident solved a mystery for me.
The wasp, by the way, wasn’t hunting on her own account but for her progeny. All adult Vespidae (which covers most of the insects most of us think of as wasps – see this page on the Brisbane Insects site) feed on nectar but hunt caterpillars or spiders for their larvae. Paper wasps are included in the family – see this post about their life cycle for a photo of one with a ball of minced caterpillar – and here for good measure is a shot of our large black-and-yellow mud dauber with a caterpillar.
If it matters, these photos were taken nearly three months ago, in mid March, but I didn’t find time to upload them before my holidays. Better late than never, as they say.
The Cairns Birdwing, Ornithoptera priamus euphorion (formerly Troides euphorion), is our biggest and one of our most spectacular butterflies (female, male) and it is one of the few that we actively encourage in our garden. The adults only need nectar and they aren’t very fussy about which flowers they feed on, but their caterpillars only eat one plant, the Aristolochia vine, so our encouragement takes the form of planting the vine.
From five weeks ago until last week we had a semi-resident female attended by a couple of males, and she was laying eggs as though she was going to repopulate the whole suburb, if not the whole city. That’s great, we thought, as she flitted from one creeper to another … and then they all started hatching.
We don’t mind the caterpillars eating the creeper – that’s what it’s there for – but their appetites are enormous because they have to grow to the size of my middle finger before they are ready to pupate, and before long we could see that they were in trouble: our vines were not big enough to feed them all and they were likely to starve before they matured.
What to do? We moved a couple of caterpillars to a young vine that their mum hadn’t noticed … but then watched in dismay as a bigger vine wilted and died; picked caterpillars off the dying leaves and moved them to another vine; watched that vine shrink by the hour under a double load of ever-larger munchers; asked neighbours if they had vines (no luck); gave some caterpillars to a friendly school-child whose (enlightened) school had vines; gave some more to a friend whose friends had vines; and hoped that the remaining leaves would last our remaining caterpillars until they pupated.
So far, so good: one pupa that we know of (there may be one or two more) hanging on the one surviving vine, two more caterpillars which are so big they must be ready to follow suit, and still half a dozen leaves for them to eat. Phew!
But if their mum comes back, we will have to lock her away from her boyfriends. Enough is enough, okay?
A little while ago I posted pictures of a full-grown Crow butterfly caterpillar and an egg just laid by an adult of the same species. I was lucky enough to follow the development of both of them
The egg was laid on a bud on March 19 and I was concerned about what would happen to it if the bud opened before the egg hatched. I needn’t have worried: mother obviously knew best.
On the 22nd I saw a very tiny caterpillar munching on the soft juicy petals, and I photographed it each day for four days, at which time the remains of the bud fell off the plant and I lost track of the caterpillar. The developmental sequence is very clear: the creamy infant darkens and grows spines although it doesn’t achieve the full orange-black-white colour scheme in those first few days.
Meanwhile, the fullgrown caterpillar was ready to pupate. I only have two photos of the chrysalis because it did not change much. When very new – in the first two or three days after it was made – it was a milky white with faint brownish markings but it soon turned bright silver, the coloration all the reference books mention.
Our Wet season is the ideal time for caterpillars since that is when their food plants are growing best, so it makes sense that the Wet is also peak butterfly mating and egg-laying time. In the last week or so I have seen lots of Migrants, Eggflies and Crows and observed both mating and egg-laying; I have also seen a few Hawk-moths and know they have been similarly busy. Here are two caterpillar stories from the last few days.
The Common Crow
Don Herbison-Evans says this caterpillar is usually found on Oleander but is also known to feed on Frangipani. The Desert Rose, Adenium obesum, is a member of the family Apocynaceae, as are both of these, so the Desert Rose is a logical addition to the list. The adult butterfly is a rather plain black and white creature, as the name suggests:
I saw one of them alight on the Desert Rose, curl its abdomen around and lay an egg … then went and got my camera:
The egg is about 1.5 x 1 mm and a close-up of it is here. What will happen to it when the flower opens, I wonder?
Hawk-moths are quite large and heavily built and so are their caterpillars but this is a very young one, about as thick as a toothpick and two-thirds as long. The tail-spine and the eye-spots are characteristic. A gallery of older individuals, both caterpillars and adult moths, may be seen here.