Scotch And Beer: The Blood Of A Coward

Some nerds take shelter beneath the friendly Madera Canyon Flame-colored Tanager.

My Great American Roadtrip is slowly beginning to take a dim and hazy form......a short while from now I will be embarking on a solo trip from Ventura, California, to Tucson, Arizona, to take part in the Monsoon Reun(ion), a foolish plan that was hatched by the side of the Santa Cruz River in May of last year. We had been watching the Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks and the Tropical Kingbirds and the Gray Hawks and the Bronzed Cowbirds, and our party was about to separate.....Handsome Dan, Bobstar, Stilt and myself were going deep into the bowels of Southeast Arizona......Plover was going another way......Cassowary and flock were going another. It was tragic, really.....we had all been veterans of the Imperial Valley Burrowing Owl Census, and it was sad to see the flock break up like this.....and so it was pledged that we reform, with greater strength, during the monsoon season of 2009. And so it has come to pass...and against all odds, I'll be there.

Rufous-capped Warblers......Sinaloa Wren.....Berylline Hummingbirds.......they all have my inner nerd drooling. The writing on the wall says this will be an interesting time, for good or ill. We may all make asses of ourselves, but we will all leave as Heroes, and with the summer monsoons at our backs......can we really do anything Wrong?

Beyond Arizona, I will be going through New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio before I get to Pennsylvania. I am going to attempt to do some birding on the way.......I've found some good spots......this "internet" thing is pretty handy sometimes, you know what I'm sayin'?

The Advantage Is All Mine

Although disguised as a banding operation, we were actually testing a new line of hair driers on the helpless tern chicks.

A few days ago I was recruited by a fellow nerd (one John Felis) to help with a Caspian Tern banding operation on Brooks Island, which is located a short boat ride away from Richmond in the San Francisco Bay. There ended up being close to 20 people out there, wading through the muck and hauling equipment back and forth in preparation of banding the ~80 or so chicks that were big enough for them. It was a pretty interesting scene corralling all the chicks together.....4 teams of people....some in watercraft.......definitely some kind of nerd-commando situation. Everything went pretty smoothly I though.....no chicks were injured and nobody got stepped on.

Birds that were big enough received an aluminum band, 2 color bands (which denoted the year they hatched) and a field readable band. Once banded, the chicks were returned to their holding containers, then taken by boat (the tide had come in) back to the colony and released. Hopefully they all made it back to where they belong!

Other Caspian Tern colonies in the bay have had varying success, often due to nest predation by gulls, but my sources say the colony on Brooks seems to be doing well this year, despite the California Gulls that are nesting right next to the terns.



Afterwards we went back to the tern crew's field housing next to the marina, which humorously lies in a heavily fortified gated community on the waterfront. I asked if they ever hang out in town, and the answer was (unsuprisingly) no, although Point Richmond was recommended as a cool area.

Click here to learn more about the tern project, I think its pretty interesting. I recommend reading the haikus........

"High As A Kite And Going Around In Circles"

Here at Bourbon, Bastards and Birds, things are moving at a good clip. The wires are truly humming here, and our newsroom can barely keep up with the atrocities that are coming in at a horrific pace. Let's take a quick look at whats happening Out There;

Farrah Fawcett: Dead.

Michael Jackson: Dead.

Mark Sanford, GOP Governor of South Carolina, returned from a week of being completely missing to announce that he had been busy in Argentina, cheating on his wife. Typical.

The rigged election results in Iran continues to draw huge protests in the country, often with bloodshed.

Samantha Redding won her supreme court case, in which she was illegally strip searched by school officials searching for two prescription strength Ibuprofin pills when she was 13.

And finally.......

"SYDNEY (Reuters) – The mystery of crop circles in poppy fields in Australia's southern island state of Tasmania has been solved -- stoned wallabies are eating the poppy heads and hopping around in circles.

"We have a problem with wallabies entering poppy fields, getting as high as a kite and going around in circles," the state's top lawmaker Lara Giddings told local media on Thursday.

"Then they crash. We see crop circles in the poppy industry from wallabies that are high," she said.

Many people believe crop circles that mysteriously appear in fields around the world are created by aliens.

Poppy producer Tasmanian Alkaloids said livestock which ate the poppies were known to "act weird" -- including deer and sheep in the state's highlands.

"There have been many stories about sheep that have eaten some of the poppies after harvesting and they all walk around in circles," said field operations manager Rick Rockliff.

Australia produces about 50 percent of the world's raw material for morphine and related opiates."

As for Michael Jackson......let's be honest here, the dude molested children. The media is going to be full of tear-jerking memorials for this freakish bastard for the next week, and I doubt this very painful fact is going to be mentioned much. Yeah he made some great music......but no one should ever mourn the death of serial child molester.

I have chosen a vague route for my Pennsylvania sojourn, outlined below. It is rumored to be an epic trip of Don Quixote proportions.......more to follow......


View My Saved Places in a larger map

I'm In Love With Everybody's Girl

I saw a bumper sticker today that said "Birders Pish Outside". This is funny for a variety of reasons. First of all, it is unusual that a birdwatcher is even capable at making a stab at humor. Then there is the fact that nonbirders could not possibly understand what this means. For the uninititiated, "pishing" is a term for making a variety of spitty, loud shushing sounds that, if you are extremely lucky, sound weird enough for a songbird to actually come out of hiding to take a look at you. But usually we just end up making weird noises at a bush and nothing happens. At any rate, this is an inside joke. It is a basic acknowledgement that ~99% of the people who read your sticker have no clue what you are talking about, but may construe that birdwatchers have a bizarre fascination with urine.....which is the last part of the joke. Jokes about taking a piss do have the potential to rouse some humor in people, and yes it is probably true that die-hard birders probably urinate/deficate in The Great Outdoors more than the average person. What are we left with? The first attempt at a humorous birdwatching sticker I have ever seen. Remember the "Caution, Frequent Stops: We're Birdwatchers!" sticker? How embarrassing.

Ok, enough for now. Im goin' pishin'.

Liberty Is A Glorious Beast

I'm still in San Francisco, taking in the social scene, great food and questionable people that the city offers. Ive taken a much-needed Haightcation in the last couple days, and things are starting to feel Right again. I no longer am stricken with a sense of Fear and Loathing whenever I encounter large groups of people, although uberhipsters and ultrabros are still a bummer to be sure.

The big news is that I was offered a job with Bat Conservation International in Pennsylvania, which I accepted yesterday. So I will be Eastbound And Down in a few weeks, but until then I can float around in California.....indeed, some sort of human debris in America's Great Western Human Garbage Patch, waiting to be eaten up and fed to the next generation of Americans. A dubious fate to be sure.

Here is another crop of pictures from my last couple weeks at Midway......enjoy!

Friend Against Friend

A male Red-footed Booby, making the world a better place.



Christmas Shearwater, about to unleash the holiday spirit.



I am Beastmaster. Or, SOOTYTERNMASTER.



This pillbox (fortunately) never got to perform its original purpose, which was to defend the island against a Japanese troop landing. Now its a hangout for Brown Noddies.



This is the oldest Red-tailed Tropicbird chick from any of the study plots. I wish it my best.



The classic Laysan Albatross "handshake".



This Black-footed Albatross chick is close to fledging.



Since this one was given The Mark Of The Beast, I'm sure it will live a long, sinister life terrorizing squid and future albatross chicks.



Pure gratuity. That's Kate, she is an algaestar.



My ceiling tile from the All Hands Club. My stuff is in the upper right corner.

I'm back in San Francisco now, trying to adjust to life where just about everything is the opposite of what Ive been experiencing since I first got to Midway. It's not the smoothest transition, but its great to be around friends again where I can feel free to be my loathsome self.....or anyone else, for that matter. So far, so good.

Below is my bird list from the atoll....I think its a pretty good list. It has every species known to currently breed on Midway, some migrants, some vagrants, some wintering birds......I think it's pretty great. Sure its not a massive list by any means, but Out There its quality, not quantity, you know what I'm saying? I might add that the Lesser Frigatebird was spotted on my birthday, and I didnt even use binoculars with it. Pretty sweet deal if you ask me. Here is an identification tip for you that isnt really emphasized in the i.d. books Ive gotten my hands on....the LEFR really is substantially smaller than the many Great Frigatebirds that are out there. Its pretty obvious. That doesnt help if the bird is by itself, but if its mixed in with a big frigatebird kettle like mine was, they stand out pretty well.

I'll post some more pictures in the near future......until then, you can find me getting reacquainted with an old friend (Jameson).

Green-winged Teal
Laysan Duck
Northern Pintail
Northern Shoveler
Eurasian Wigeon
American Wigeon
Laysan Albatross
Black-footed Albatross
Short-tailed Albatross
Bonin Petrel
Bulwer's Petrel
Wedge-tailed Shearwater
Christmas Shearwater
Tristram's Storm-Petrel
Red-footed Booby
Brown Booby
Masked Booby
Lesser Frigatebird
Great Frigatebird
White-tailed Tropicbird
Red-tailed Tropicbird
Cattle Egret
Pacific Golden-Plover
Whimbrel (Siberian and American)
Bristle-thighed Curlew
Grey-tailed Tattler
Wandering Tattler
Ruddy Turnstone
Glaucous Gull
Glaucous-winged Gull
Little Tern
Least Tern
Sooty Tern
Grey-backed Tern
Brown Noddy
Fairy Tern
Black Noddy
Common Myna
Canary

The Last Days Of Disco, The Final Farewell

Back in Ventura. Here are some things I've noticed since Ive been back:

I own more than ~50 lbs of stuff.
There are women everywhere.
There are not albatross everywhere.
Driving a car is an unfamiliar feeling.
Parallel parking has gotten a lot harder.
Gulls seem new and intersting.
The marine layer is boring.
Walking around without worrying about petrel burrows is nice.
Not living in a constant state of pede-fear is nice.
Food at my parents house is not nearly as good as food at the Clipper House.

I seem to have developed a very low tolerance for people I don't like and a new appreciation of those that I do. A couple decrepit old Santa Barbaran hags that I shared a van with on the way up from LAX made me want to jump out the window.....which makes sense, since on the plane ride over from Honolulu I sat next to a southern belle on her way home to Lousiana. You win some, you lose some, right?

I'll post a mess of some of my best pictures from Midway when I get the chance. In other news, Ive somehow gotten a job interview for tomorrow, which could potentially lead to some heinous duck molesting in the land that people go to die. Not that its my time yet, but a little peek of the afterlife won't hurt.

So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish

This is the first photo documentation of me on a bicycle. Photo courtesy of Zack Grazul.

Today is my last day on Midway. To be honest I am too busy and scatterbrained at the moment to really wrap my mind around this fact.....maybe when I wash ashore back on the mainland I can come to some conclusion about this place and my experience here.

But quickly I will say that quitting my job and moving out of my apartment to be here was one of the best decisions I have ever made, despite the fact that I havent made any money since January and have no solid plans for doing so in the near future. Priorities, right? Ok....go easy....step lightly.....stay free!

I Ain't Used To Sleeping All Alone

Red-tailed Tropicbirds performing they're aerial courtship displays in tandem. I will miss them!



A male Great Frigatebird getting fresh and clean. Its an elaborate process. I will miss them!



I don't think Ive posted a canary picture yet, so here's one for you. I probably won't miss them, but they're ok to have around.

So......I'm 27 today. When I was younger, I always thought 27 would be an awesome age. I kind of thought maximum happiness occurred at this age, although I didnt really have anything to base this on. At this juncture, it would be premature to say if there is any truth to statement or not. But the possibilities are endless, eh? I'm kicking off this year by being stranded on Midway Atoll, with no job, no health insurance, no home and no obligations to go back to when I migrate back to the states tomorrow night. Pretty rad....I have achieved vagrant status.

So will I continue on in the proud tradition of Steve past, or will it be nothing more than some kind of sad rehash of the good ole days? Will a Brave New Steve dawn in this Foul Year of Our Lord, 2009?

Perhaps I should settle with nothing less than nothing new.

You Just Kept Coming Apart

"YARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! YARRRR!!!!! ARRRRRRGH!!!!!" - Sooty Tern

Last week on Midway. How could this happen? It doesnt seem right. This brutal reality is even coming into my dreams....last night I dreamt I was some sort of policeman/detective, hanging out in a suburban neighbood someplace. I noted the three Hawaiian Monk Seals which were (naturally) loafing on someone's driveway. In my dream, I thought this was somewhat strange, but I didnt quite know why. Anyway, I return to this scene later and find that their carcasses have been piled on the lawn. A couple fellow detectives and myself start interrogating the owner. He denies any involvement, and even denies the existence of the eight (8) dead monk seals scattered in his house and on his lawn that we point out. Finally he cracks and confesses that he kills seals because.......he is Canadian. Obvi. Oh yeah, he also had a mustache and looked Italian, which may or may not be related to his pinniped-slaying ways.



This huge wad of cuteness is a Red-footed Booby and its fuzzy progeny.

I saw a gigantic pede today. It was the t-rex of pedes....surely some atavistic holdover from the Jurassic. It was relatively the same size as the one that plopped out of my sheets that fateful March night. It evoked deep memories of anger, fear, agression.....The Dark Side, as it were. I ground it to death with a large stick.....but that won't stop it from biting the crap out of me in my dreams tonight.



Look at little duder! Almost ready to fledge! This bird hit puberty waaaaay before the other chicks. So punx.

So Let Me Get This Straight

My last Monday here on Sand Island. Started the day by pulling exotic verbesina and planting eragrostis (native bunchgrass). Also took great pleasure in destroying a centipede I found. No.....I did more than destroy it....I extinguished its soul. It was undoubtedly planning on climbing up my nostril while I slumbered, only to make a nest in my frontal lobe and torment me through my final days.

Score one for Stever.



The old WWII era powerplant, the "bombproof" building that got a shell through a window to herald America's entrance into WWII.



Before the Battle of Midway, Midway was shelled the same day Pearl Harbor was bombed. George, who worked in the powerplant, was the first casualty here.



This is a Japanese memorial put in by survivors of the Hiryu, one of the Japanese carriers that was sunk in The Battle of Midway. I am assuming it says something somber.

This afternoon will consist of checking the Laysan Albatross plots, and then some data entry. This will be the last time I get to walk through the Laysan plots....it will be sad, so sad. Who will nibble my sandals? Who will gouge my hands? Who will try to puke on me? Oh yeah....the Black-footed Albatross will do all that and more.



This Laysan Albatross chick was a choking victim, and a casualty of a different war. You can still see commercials for the wonders and greatness of plastic on tv. It's pictures like this they don't want you to see.