Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Desperate Birders Have Been Known To Render Desperate Deeds or: How I Learned to Stop Vomiting and Love the Seabirds


Black-footed Albatross is the reigning lord of California waters, at least until Short-tailed Albatross make a dramatic comeback. Working with Black-foots on Midway Atoll enamored me with them; this is a bird I never tire of seeing. I love the fact that I can go on a pelagic trip off of California and have a real possibility of seeing a bird that I saw on Midway 4 years ago. It's over 3,000 miles from Midway to Half Moon Bay; not only do Black-foots cross this expanse before and after breeding begins, they do it just to forage for their chicks! The mileage these long-lived birds put on their wings must be staggering.

With fall shorebird migration raging up, down, and across the continent, shorebirders are happy. But before warblers, vireos, flycatchers and their ilk sweep south, late summer is when seabird season really gets going. Under cover of darkness, hordes of ravenous birders pile on to boats up and down the California coast, to try their luck when the day breaks with the birds of the wide open ocean.

It is a novel idea. Many nonbirders struggle to come to grips with it. You go way offshore to watch birds? There are birds out there? Isn't that kind of hard? How much does that cost?


I cannot say enough good things about Buller's Shearwaters, the bird rumored to use human bones as nest material. Maybe this fall I will finally give them the crushing they deserve.

For many of the birders getting on boats in the coming months, it is their first time at sea. Pelagic birding comes as a shock; being jammed into a crowd of similarly-garbed birders, the motion of the boat, the fast-moving birds disappearing behind troughs...then there is the extreme difficulty of identifying any and all seabirds, for the colors of seabirds exist on a limited spectrum of white, gray, brown, black...the legendary Economy of Style. And then there is the puking; The Sickness. While one birder may describe a pelagic trip as a glimpse of Heaven itself, another birder on the same trip would describe the experience as a hellish ordeal that left them broken and empty inside (literally).


Once again, the frantic cries of "SKUUUUAAAAA!!!!!" will pierce the salty air, as a hefty brown bird makes a quick pass by the boat. A species that never ceases to cause birders to froth at the mouth, I'm hoping to get South Polar Skua off both coasts this year.

For others birders, they have spent many days at sea in pursuit of seabirds...their own white whales, their own sea monsters, so to speak. It keeps them going, it sustains them. For some, their monster may be a Hawaiian Petrel, or Streaked Shearwater. My monsters go by many names and forms...I must rise and do battle with them all. I cannot rest until they are all defeated...and so again and again, I must go to sea. It will never end. We are not deterred by the long days, the sleep deprivation, the horrendous vomiting, the possibility for complete and catastrophic failure on the rarity front...no. As long as the birds come, the birders will rise to meet them.




Sabine's Gull is a severely underrated bird. Aside from being our easiest gull to identify (that wing pattern is so distinct it might as well just read "Sabine's Gull"), they have a bold fashion sense and are true pelagic birds for most of the year. Our Pacific birds breed in the Arctic and winter off of western South America; the Atlantic population repopulates in the Canadian Arctic and winters off southwest Africa.

I am no different. In my continuing lust for seabird observation, I am scheduled to go on pelagic trip after pelagic trip this fall...a pair out of North Carolina and a bunch out of California, as a leader for Shearwater Journeys. Desperate birders have been known to render desperate deeds, and I think the boat time I will be racking up in the coming months is a sign, at the very least, of a severe and incurable addiction.

All photos today are from various pelagic trips the last couple years, out of San Diego, Monterey, and Half Moon Bay, CA.




Arctic and Common Terns (above) are encountered on the regular in fall. All too often they make a single pass, leaving birders with eyes glazed over and mouths agape in confusion. It is times like this when chimping can make or break an ID.


I think this is a good example of some of the challenges pelagic birders face; to put it as eloquently as I can...looking at birds is hard. This is a basic-plumage Tufted Puffin head. TUPU is a somewhat rare but regular bird on these fall northern California trips.


Parasitic (above) and Pomarine Jaegers are staples of any California pelagic trip. It is in late summer and early fall when that precious jaeger, the Long-tailed, migrates through the area. Of course, finding jaegers is one thing, identifying them can be quite another.




This is a second summer bird, although at first glance it looks more like an adult that had already dropped its fancy tail feathers. The breast band is actually made up of dingy barring, a remnant of the bird's youth, not the dark wash one would expect in adult Pomarine and Parasitic Jaegers. With the potentially confusing breast band out of the way, one quickly notices the bird has completely dark underwings, which renders this bird a Long-tailed Jaeger.


Storm-Petrels are the Empidonax of the sea; small, innocuous, and brutally difficult to tell apart from one another...except they don't ever vocalize away from their breeding islands, so really they make Empidonax seem easy in comparison. Black Storm-Petrels are one of several regularly seen species seen on pelagic trips off northern California.


Of course, there are other things to see besides birds on these trips, which brings great distress to some birders. Just behave, and hope the knife doesn't come out!


Sunday, July 28, 2013

Birding the Mountain of Death


We had Volcano Hummingbirds at a number of sites on this trip, but they were most numerous and cooperative at Cerro de la Muerte. 

Onward we birded. After El Paraiso, we birded other sites in the Talamancas with only moderate success. Then war began within our once-happy ranks. We could not decide if we should take our puny, underpowered rental car (ironically called a "Swift", it was punishingly weak) down the steep, winding road to San Gerardo de Dota, otherwise known as The Promised Land. Eventually, the car proved its worthlessness over and over again so we decided against it. Dipper Dan and I would return some days later in a SUV, and we were both happy that we did not attempt to tackle the road with the wimpy Swift.

After spending a rainy night in an uncomfortable bed at La Georgina, we decided to try to barge the Swift up El Cerro de la Muerte, the tallest peak in Costa Rica at over 11,000 feet. Why? To get Volcano Junco, of course. Although our guidebook warned against driving up the mountain without 4-wheel drive, we made it up without mishap. The fog enveloped us, and the search was on.


What a pleasant bird to have holding down the mountaintops. Males in different populations of Volcano Hummingbird have different colored gorgets; I think there are three populations in Costa Rica that can be told apart by the males' throat color.


Volcano Hummingbird is actually a Selasphorus hummingbird, which is the same genus as our beloved Broad-tailed, Rufous, Allen's and Calliope Hummingbirds. Nice to see a somewhat familiar looking bird down there, although none of the northern Selasphorus possess such a short bill.


Sooty-capped Bush-Tanagers are one of the main ingredients of high elevation flocks. Their bold head patterns are a lot more striking than their lower-elevation Common cousins.


What a strange bird. Reminds me of some of the huge, exotic-looking finches down there.


Dipper Dan adopts an unexpectedly awkward, sasquatch-like gait while lurching through the foggy Paramo in search of the day's target bird, Volcano Junco. 


Jose, a guide at Paraiso del Quetzales, told us the exact place to go where we would be guaranteed to find the Junco of the Volcano. As you can see, Jose knows exactly what he is fucking talking about. At the promised intersection, the juncos showed themselves.


It was nice to be stalking a species that were not masters of skulk. We all got great looks at this highly-localized bird, which is only found above treeline at certain sites in Costa Rica and Panama.


The juncos were in constant need of delicious berries. You show me berries, I show you juncos.


A female Slaty Flowerpiercer. These things are everywhere in the higher altitudes of the Talamancas. Can you believe this is a type of finch? Look at that bill...it really is shaped that way for piercing flowers. Craziness. Darwin would have loved this bird.


A nice little stop south of El Cerro is Villa Mills, where this Black-capped Flycatcher was brutally crushed. An easy, relatively open space to bird, it made for a mellow side-stop on our way down to San Isidro. A number of Timberline Wrens were vocalizing here.


This is what a "confiding" bird looks like, in case you are wondering.


Are you at a high elevation? You will find Blue-and-white Swallows. Are you at a low elevation? I will show you Blue-and-white Swallows. Photographed at Villa Mills.


As we descended from the Talamancas down into the new and wonderful realms of the South Pacific Slope, we saw our first Swallow-tailed Kites of the trip. I'm still looking forward to seeing them up close some day. Next stop: Talari Mountain Lodge!


When there is no internet, no tv, but plenty of alcohol, conditions are perfect for playing "Pocket", the simplest and greatest game in the world that leads to a whole rainbow of bizarre and humiliating acts. Here Frank is forced to wear filthy, fungus-ridden boots on his hands for an extended period of time. This is in a room at La Georgina, a birding site/restaurant/place to stay downslope from El Cerro. We didn't have much luck in terms of birds, amenities, or comfort, but it was cheap and had easy access to a lot of food and a shitload of strange (but usually tasty) Tico candy.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Regrets and Shorebirds Aside


This Yellow-headed Blackbird was the last interesting spring migrant I saw, back in early June. Despite the maelstrom raging around us, it begged me to crush it as it foraged passionately.

Wow. Just like that, we have plunged into rarity season. The Wood-Rail really opened the floodgates, didn't it? I have been without internet for quite a while now, and once I come back online rare shorebirds are being reported left and right. Being confined to an island that is not known for vagrant shorebirds, this shit is getting a little hard to handle...

But then I remember I just saw my state Red-necked Stint, and I can relax. While Lesser Sand-Plover is indeed a facemelting and anxiety-inducing rarity, I am happy to say that I saw one back in 1996...Greater Sand-Plover, on the other hand, is another story...a story of pain, failure, and regret.

Regrets and shorebirds aside, I am currently on my final tour of duty on Santa Cruz Island. The focal species of our studies are almost all done breeding, which makes field work go pretty quickly now that we are not checking on nests or chicks. Unfortunately, the internet gods who reign over the island have not been kind lately, so instead of enriching the Blogosphere, I've lately been going through back issues of National Geographic and spending way more time editing photos than usual. But I am sure to have pure, uncut internet access for the next few days, so I will try to do what I can while there is still time.

Here is a veritable smorgasbord of Santa Cruz Island scenes for your ocular consumption. See you soon!


I hope the bird made it off the island, rather than being eaten by a fox. It was pretty fearless, which may not been a good personality type with hungry foxes lurking everywhere.


The Peregrine Falcons no longer chide me (or try to kill me) when I get too close to their nest sites, although it's not rare to see an adult whiz by with a juvenile begging horribly close behind it.


The other day I looked up into the fog and saw 2 Peregrine Falcons (one of which was probably this bird) soaring with a kettle of 7 Red-tailed Hawks. That may not sound so strange to you, but on Santa Cruz Island in July, that was too many raptors for me to handle. I found myself kneeling in the grass, weeping into the dust. Strange sights call for strange reactions.


I have pelted my beloved and attractive readers with Island Fox photos lately, so you only get one today. This is outside the kitchen at Christy Ranch, where we are normally based.



For BB&B's very first Acorn Woodpecker photo, I thought I would make it particularly wholesome. If only the woodpeckers were storing acorns in the cross...the potential for bizarre metaphors would be endless.


Barn Swallows are one of the most abundant birds on the island. They have been raising chicks for months now. If a bird raises chicks over and over again for months, it would seem logical that they would become one of the most abundant birds, no? We all could learn a lesson from the Barn Swallow.



I take that back. I think Barn Swallows should go about creating more Barn Swallows as much as possible, but this is not a way of life I would recommend to any sane human lover of earth, life, liberty, etc. In the end, none of this has anything to do with Barn Swallows sunning themselves in ecstasy on a windowsill.


Christy Beach at sunset, with squid boats dotting the horizon. Not bad, not bad at all.


I think a lot can be learned from the social lives of Black Oystercatchers. They clearly do a lot of socializing, both in pairs and in strange group displays which remain unexplained. In this photo we see them behaving in a remarkably human way; completely ignoring each other, despite their obvious close proximity. They never did get a conversation going.



Heermann's Gulls are back in force, attempting to steal fish scraps out of the pouches of Brown Pelicans. A lot of them still have their dapper frosted heads, but they are going to start looking gray-headed and boring soon.


Fraser Point is on the west end of the island, where few lucky souls are privileged to travel. The next outcrop of land, to the left, is Santa Rosa Island. This is the view from one of my field sites (photo is blow-uppable, and taken with an iPhone).

Thursday, July 18, 2013

California #500: A Red-necked Stint in the Rubicon



This is where the magic is happening; the Los Angeles River just north of Willow Street in Long Beach, CA.

After dropping off Booby Brittany at LAX Tuesday morning, I was driving back to Ventura when Dipper Dan alerted me to the presence of a Red-necked Stint on the LA River. He implored me to turn around and get the bird, although I had no optics of any sort. Alas, I chose not to, as it was not a life bird and I was loathe to brave the snarled LA traffic without any sort of birding weaponry to deploy once I got there.

But by late that afternoon I found myself again in LA gridlock with Officer Searcy, a belligerent and oft-maligned member of the State Bird Police. The traffic was so bad we were beginning to worry the sun would set before we would even get there, but the congestion finally loosened and Officer Searcy's filthy patrol car was coughed up from the 710 onto Willow Street, where the bird was located.

Finding the bird took a mere 60 seconds of scanning. The peep that was colored more like a Red Knot than a Western Sandpiper stood out like a sore thumb, in the very patch of mud that it had been frequenting all day. Aside from this being only my second Red-necked Stint, it was a life plumage...and my 500th California bird.

500 has been a long-time coming...over 18 years, in fact. My ability to add to this precious list has been at times very limited over the years for various reasons...being too young to drive, too busy with college life, living out of state, bourbon and bastards, etc. But none of that matters now...the blood, sweat, tears and other substances wrenched from my body over these 18 years by 500 species of birds has all led up to this moment, this bird.

The stint was extremely cooperative, always out in the open, never flying, and usually just a few yards from Western and Least Sandpipers for comparison. Although the bird wasn't very close, it might as well have been staked to the same patch of mud, as it was very territorial, terrorizing any unsuspecting Least Sandpipers that tried to encroach.

After soaking the bird in, we walked back across the river to Officer Searcy's patrol car. With the colorful stint seared into my brain and the exalted figure of 500 achieved, it was not the Los Angeles River below me...I was crossing the Rubicon.

Things will never be the same.


A Least Sandpiper yearns for quality mud as the Red-necked Stint glows behind it. Bad photo, exceptional bird.

Monday, July 15, 2013

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: A Major Leak From the Global Birder Ranking System (Rise and Measure the Temple of the Five)




What does Final Five material know about Swainson's Thrush? Everything. Dry Tortugas National Park, FL.

BREAKING NEWS. Being the Number 7 birder in the United States, I am constantly besieged with questions about the Global Birder Ranking System (GBRS) that assigned me this lofty position in the first place. As I have mentioned before, GBRS is very secretive, and those of us considered to be Birding Giants are typically under various gag orders...we are able to acknowledge the existence of GBRS, but giving out details is not something we are typically free to do.

Until now. I recently received this memo (something I am normally not privy to) from an Anonymous Source about the current guidelines of potential inclusion into the vaunted Final Five; the top 5 birders in the country. Although I put my ranking and reputation at great risk by releasing this information to you all, hopefully it will put an end to the one of the questions I get the most...how do you get into the highest circle of the greatest birders in the United States?

Below is the complete memo, almost entirely intact, brought to you by none other than The Human Birdwatcher Project ("Birders are people too!"). Please do not ask me to explain the quote at the bottom...certain things are better left unsaid.

Subject: Memo: Standards and Practices for the Recertification and Inclusion of New Members of the Final Five
From: The Global Birder Ranking System (High Cabal)
To: The Global Birder Ranking System ( Class Bravo Birderer Technicians)

Hello GBRS staff, we hope this memo finds you well. With the discovery of mega-crippler Rufous-necked Wood-Rail (which earned Mr. Daw an outstanding 84 points!), many of you newer staff have been wondering how discoveries like this (or lack thereof) can affect the standings of The Final Five. The Final Five, of course, have all been there for several years now, with 4th and 5th place birders switching places several times as a result of certain eyebrow-raising gull misidentifications and a brief but bizarre public meltdown of Number 4 while chasing a Pink-footed Goose last winter. This outburst has since been attributed by the GBRS Ranking Audits Division (GBRS-RAD) to the observer's marathon of whisky consumption, brought on by a particularly nasty dip from the day before. GBRS-RAD recently determined this was an act of desperation, rather than deeply-ingrained personality flaws manifesting themselves (see March 2012 memo "Recurring Traits Found in GBRS Low-Ranked American Birders"). 

The GBRS High Cabal wants to reassure you junior staff that the regulations for eligibility of The Final Five have remained much as they have been since the January 2011 memo. As a refresher, here are the current requirements for inclusion in the Final Five.




Most birders could not tell you how to identify an immature Great Frigatebird, which is showing off its characteristic ruddy head and pink feet. The Final Five would know this bird instantly, with no need for field guides. Photographed at Midway Atoll.

1. Identification Skills. It goes without saying that the most important factor in ranking of the Final Five are a birder's identification skills. The Final Five must be leaders in the most challenging aspects of North American bird identification, particularly groups such as gulls, tubenoses, female hummingbirds, flycatchers, etc. Intimate knowledge of Mexican, Central American, Siberian, Caribbean and European species that have or could occur in the United States is expected as well.




The Final Five are constantly on the lookout for unexpected birds, no matter the chances against them. Gray-backed Tern (this one from Midway Atoll) may someday reward southern Californian birders who put in time sorting through summer tern flocks.

2. Birds Found. The quickest way a birder can increase their standing in GBRS is not to chase rare birds, but to find them. For example, points earned for documenting a Ross's Gull can (at least temporarily) completely offset a birder's consistent inability to differentiate Red-necked and Little Stint at 500 yards. Of course finding a national mega carries the most weight, but everything from state records to documenting localized breeding for the first time can cumulatively bear heavily on a Final Five contender's GBRS score.




A birder could have Grasshopper Sparrow for every county in their state, and that would not propel them into the Final Five. Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge, MT.

3. Lists. The classified formula of calculating a birder's lists and integrating them into their GBRS score remains the same. It is important to stress the fact that impressive list totals often are not found in conjunction with the other attributes listed in this document.




Anyone in the Final Five knows that despite it being an exotic waterfowl species, there has been no suspected case of escapee Tufted Ducks in California for years. Lake Merritt, Oakland, CA.

4. Vagrants and Escapees. The Final Five must have a firm grip on knowing the provenance of birds whose origins are questionable. Neither cage bird conspiracy theorists nor blatantly biased stringers will be eligible for upgrading to The Final Five. Those who have been on the right side of history in cases like this (which may or may not be in accordance to various state committee decisions) will be rewarded appropriately.




In terms of molt and plumage, the appearance of this Mississippi Kite would be challenging to describe for many birders. Not so, for the Final Five. Dairy Mart Ponds, Tijuana River Valley, CA.

5. Molt. Simply, complete memorization of the contents of the Pyle books is expected; additional knowledge and insight is preferred. It should go without saying that bird topography must be known like the back of one's hand. The benefits of molt mastery are many and need not be explained here.




Top-ranked birders have been gossiping about the potential split between Western and Eastern Willets for years. A thorough, respectable genetic study would probably seal the deal; Final Five candidates would know what types of studies would be acceptable in this particular case. "Western" Willet, Marina Park, Ventura, CA.


6. Genetics. The field of genetic studies of birds resulting in splitting and lumping species is fluid and constantly undergoing change. It is paramount that the Final Five know both the current and obsolete methods used in avian genetic studies, the history of these tools, and splits and lumps that may occur going forward.




All current Final Five birders are intimately familiar with the flight call of Blackburnian Warbler. Some inexperience with flight calls of rare and range-restricted species (i.e. Kirtland's Warbler, Colima Warbler) is acceptable for future Final Five candidates. Dry Tortugas National Park, FL.

7. Flight Calls. Vocalizations are a basic, crucial part of various identifications and need not be discussed here. However, flight calls of passerines are known to a small minority of birders and can provide conclusive identification of unseen flyover birds. Western birders in particular suffer from a lack of knowledge in this field, due to differences in species communities and the nature of migration in western states. Future nominees for the Final Five from western states are expected to overcome this regional handicap.




While the laybirder may suggest that the crest of Crested Auklet may simply be a function of breeding plumage, the Final Fiver will know that a study has shown that they serve an important function in feeling their way around the dimly-lit rock crevices where they nest. Buldir Island, AK.

8. Science. The Final Five need not hold degrees in a scientific field, although it is helpful. However, a solid understanding of science and it's framework of critical thinking is necessary. There is no room in The Final Five for theoretical ornithologists, who put forth theories on bird behavior, movements, appearance, and biology based on complete speculation and guesswork.




A member of the Final Five is expected to exude a wealth of knowledge pertaining to all North American birds. In a recent test by GBRS-RAD, GBRS birders ranked 1-5 all correctly answered that the set gillnet fishery for Kodiak Island, AK, had an estimated bycatch of 28 Red-faced Cormorants in 2002. Buldir Island, AK. 

9. Knowledge. Encyclopedic knowledge of birdlife is expected in The Final Five. This includes, but is not limited to, status and distribution of birds down to very fine temporal and spatial scales, repertoire of vocalizations, variations of specific plumages and morphology, behavior, conservation issues, and known connections to ecosystems. Knowledge is power, and one cannot become a power-birder without it.






This bucolic scene features birders displaying exemplary conduct. They demonstrate a youthful vigor, ostensible camaraderie, potential solidarity, a healthy interest in something other than birds, and excellent calves.

10. Conduct. A birder is a birder both in the field and after the binoculars come off.  The Final Five are expected to have social skills far and above those of the average birder, or to be explicitly clear, the social skills one would expect from the average nonbirder. Expected conduct does not compel the Final Five to be mild-mannered or inoffensive, but the following habits and traits are strongly desired: Not embarrassing themselves in online forums/Facebook groups/listservs; keeping an even temper; comprehension of basic social cues (i.e. the ability to detect and dispense sarcasm, making a joke that other people can understand, etc); lacking prejudices against large swaths of the population (i.e. men, women, Asians, beginning birders etc.); not pronouncing bird names in bizarre, completely unconventional ways; not being overly serious, petty, or passive-aggressive. A mild amount of awkwardness is acceptable for members of the Final Five, however the stifling awkwardness abundant in the birding community generally prevents birders from advancing beyond Birder #85 or so.

With the number of skilled but socially isolated, hermit-like birders in the United States whose conduct is poorly understood, GBRS is considering the creation of a supplemental list to track and rate hermit birders. A decision on the creation of this new ranking subset is expected in the coming months. 

Moving forward, we continue to cast a wary eye on the incursion of photographers into the birding community and the increasingly gray area between birders and photographers, which some worry may potentially complicate GBRS scoring. At this point in time we will stay the course and not score those who have not admitted to being a birder, in public or otherwise.

The annual GBRS 4th of July BBQ in Bridgeport, CA, was a great success! Congratulations to Birder #38, who won the chili cook-off.

The shorebirds are moving south friends, and as their numbers swell, so too will your GBRS score. Good birding everyone, and as always...

"Limiting diffusions to two dimensions increases the number of evolutionary jumps within the species. Rise and measure the Temple of the Five. Transformation is the goal. They will not harm their own."

Please destroy this document after reading. Thank you! - GBRS High Cabal