Pobblebonk

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“Hello!” I said cheerily. “I’m just calling so that you can identify a frog for me. Hang on for a minute, I’m going to hold the phone out - listen for the one that sounds like, “pok! pok!” - sort of like someone chopping wood in the distance.”

Our population of frogs have been going crazy every night since the recent rain, and I’ve noticed a new sound amongst the cacophony - an unusual pokking call which stands out amongst the lengthy croaks of other species.

I returned the phone to my ear. “Could you hear that?” I asked. Mum laughed, “Yes, I think so. But I’m not really familiar with the frogs in your area. It could be a po…” It was indistinct. “A pobbleponk?” I asked. “Pobblebonk,” said Mum. “Your uncle has them on his property in Victoria, but I’m not sure if they extend up your way as well. Hang on, we’re looking it up.”

I chatted about my latest baking experiment (unsuccessful, unfortunately - note to self, do not substitute butter spread for real butter ever again, no matter how lazy you feel), until an answer was proffered. “Yes, pobblebonks extend from Rockhampton to Tasmania, often in suburban gardens.” I was delighted. “I love the name. I can’t wait to tell people, ‘Oh that noise, that’s just the pobblebonks.’”

I discovered this morning that they’re also known as the Eastern Banjo Frog, a name which is almost as fun (due to their call sounding somewhat like a struck banjo string, apparently). But I like pobblebonk the best.

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