The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: The Murrelet Incident

"I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror...and were suddenly silenced". - Obi-Wan Kenobi

While Obi-Wan was describing the destruction of the planet Alderaan by the Death Star, he is also feeling what I felt on November 26, 2014, when the legendary Japanese Murrelet chase came to an abrupt and psychically violent end. Many birders arrived at Point Reyes that morning with the highest of hopes...that they would be lucky enough to see a Japanese Murrelet from a California shoreline. After many hours, only a brightly-marked Ancient Murrelet was seen, and when the photos of The Bird were finally posted to the ABA Blog, a collective scream of terror was uttered by birding America. The large chase crew left broken and defeated...many have since gone silent, locked in their bedrooms, enduring an incapacitating catatonic depression. The entire California birding community was completely crushed, and we have still yet to heal. Bitter memories of the Mile Square Park "Cape May Warbler" came rushing back to more than a few birders. A misidentified Red-footed Booby (it turned out to be a Brown, of course) at Point Reyes a few days later was just more salt in the wound. Some have suggested that this may be as good a time as any to completely quit birding.

What happened? How did this tragedy come about? The Human Birdwatcher Project ("Birders are people too!") and BB&B have put together a timeline of all relevant public communications about The Murrelet Incident...and you can see exactly when the "apparent" Japanese Murrelet becomes something more.

November 24, 2014. A Bird Policeman posts to the California Rare Birds Facebook group:

I haven't seen it on any email lists yet, but Keith Hansen called to tell me that Steve Howell photographed an apparent Japanese Murrelet (Synthliboramphus wumizusume) at the Point Reyes Fish Docks. Unfortunately he did not identify the bird visually, it just showed up in his photos. A number of people were looking until dark today and the bird was not seen.
Just acting as the messenger.

November 25, 2014. A birder posts to a listserv:

Just got a call from Keith Hansen. He, Steve Howell, Ed Harper, Jon Dunn and others saw the bird from a great distance off the Fish Docks on Pt. Reyes this morning. It took several hours of waiting and the bird appeared for 15 minutes, then disappeared. It has the characteristics of a breeding plumaged Japanese Murrelet and was compared with nearby Ancient Murrelets. This bird was first found closer to land and photographed by Steve Howell yesterday afternoon, but not seen after it quickly vanished. I have not seen the bird nor the photos.

November 25, 2014. Another birder posts to a listserv, this time with a very different tone:

…ahem…ahem..excuse me, 

So that everyone gets the word, there is a distinct possibility that a Japanese Murrelet has been found in Drakes Bay at Point Reyes yesterday afternoon by Steve Howell. Today other excellent birders saw it again and now it seems to be a Japanese Murrelet. Identification is difficult from distance (photos were taken yesterday and appear diagnostic) but we up here have been convinced to look tomorrow for it. This would, of course, be a first county record. Actually, a first continental record. 

Seeing is believing so I along with others will be there at first light. 

Remember, a large storm is coming in this weekend so sooner is better….unless your optimistic…and stupid. 

November 25, 2014. A birder posts to eBird a Japanese Murrelet observation. He describes the bird as having a crest, which is an absolutely diagnostic field mark for Japanese Murrelet. This report has subsequently been disappeared.

November 26, 2014. Many of the state's best birders converge at the Fish Docks, searching for the Japanese Murrelet. These included many past and present members of the Bird Police, and some folks came all the way from San Diego. Many Ancient Murrelets were seen, including one in breeding plumage with giant white eyebrows that converge at the back of the head, very similar to how a Japanese Murrelet would appear. In the early afternoon, two days after the initial sighting, Steve Howell posts on the ABA blog the full breakdown of the bird, complete with photos. At no point does he claim that the photos show proof of the bird being a Japanese Murrelet, nor does he claim he is convinced it is a Japanese Murrelet. He makes no mention of the bird having a crest, and bemoans the fact that birders have somehow turned a theoretical Japanese Murrelet into the real thing. The photos showed an intriguing bird (to me, anyway), but ultimately lacked anything truly convincing.

According to multiple witnesses, when the birders at the Fish Docks searching for the murrelet saw the photos on somebody's cell phone, everyone died a little bit on the inside. The chase was off.

Most birders, at least privately, now suspect that there was never a Japanese Murrelet...that the bird in question was an Ancient Murrelet in breeding plumage (like the one above). Since November 26, no one has publicly claimed to have seen a Japanese Murrelet. So what went wrong? How did more than 80+ birders converge from all over the state to twitch a bird that was not real? Birders have turned on each other left and right, reputations are being shredded, and more than one angry twitcher desires actual bloodshed.

Some things to consider:

1) Was there really a Japanese Murrelet out there, as some thought in the beginning? Was the bright-browed Ancient Murrelet seen November 26 the same bird from the photos? The same bird seen, very distantly, on November 25? Will all of this one day air on a new episode of Unsolved Mysteries? Personally, I don't know...I certainly didn't see any of these birds so I really can't comment. But I know that a bunch of birders can simply will a rarity into existence, given the right circumstances. Much like those who have once claimed success in the Ivory-billed Woodpecker hunt, there is no longer anyone willing to publicly admit that they believe they saw a Japanese Murrelet.

2) Some have whined that the photos did not go public until 2 days after the initial sighting, which is a long time when it comes to coverage of a MEGA. This certainly played a role in contributing to the mass hysteria and panic that briefly gripped California birders, but think about it...the person who found the bird was not actually convinced the bird was a Japanese Murrelet, so what was the rush? Despite his status, he doesn't owe it to anyone to get the photos out to the general public ASAP...I'm sure he sent it to a few friends for consideration, which normally would be the wise thing to do. If I had poor, undiagnostic photos (accidental photos, no less) of a potential continental record, I might not be rushing to have every birder in the country scrutinizing it either.

3) While Steve is not California's birding Godfather, he is viewed as a sort of deity by many. Not many other people write entire books on rare birds, gull ID and seabird ID...in fact, no one else has those credentials. Steve's opinion on bird ID is considered gospel by the masses. Even if he thought the bird could be a Japanese Murrelet, that was enough to make people think the bird was real. Attaching Jon Dunn's name to the bird probably didn't help things either.

4) On November 25 a notorious county lister, who had never seen the photos of the bird, claimed that the photos were diagnostic. To quote a famous birder, "that's not how I would have done it". This statement, and then the following eBird report, is where the bird appeared to jump from "apparent" to "confirmed"... and a lot of people were probably convinced to make the long drive to Point Reyes. He also stated that those who were not going to chase the bird were stupid, which did not work out very well for him and 80+ other people in the end.

5) The eBird report from November 25 mentioned the bird having a crest, the most crucial field mark to see. No one else has ever mentioned seeing this, at least publicly. This is seriously sketchy.

6) Birders nationwide have been concerned that so many good birders were involved in The Murrelet Incident. One retired bird policeman from the east coast was quoted as saying, "This shit wouldn't even fly in New York" (I guess New York has a lot of sketchy birders? News to me.). Indeed, many of our Bird Police and alumni were out looking for this bird, but I cannot fault them. If birders are people too, then so are the Bird Police. Almost every birder has a bit of Fox Mulder in them...we want to believe. We all wanted a true-blue Japanese Murrelet to be out there, because we want to see the damn thing.

7) Ancient Murrelets can be in breeding plumage in winter. And they can have huge white eyebrows that meet in the back of their heads. Now we know.

8) Things will never be the same.

Many thanks to John Puschock/Zugunruhe Birding Tours for supplying the Ancient Murrelet photo in today's post.

20 Years In The Game: Never Stop Birding...Sentimental HJs...Birds Remembered

Look at all these nerds. Although I am currently retired from bizarre field jobs, they have done a lot for me (and my life list). After the long and glorious LBJ days came to an end in Humboldt County, this was my first job...slavishly censusing Burrowing Owls for Jeff Manning (of "Two Jeffs One Cup" fame) and his mysterious dog Palouse in the Imperial Valley. Those times were good times, and things have never been the same.

As a birder, this month was special for me. Not because I achieved any sort of listing milestone or saw a particularly rare bird (groan), but because I realized that I've now been birding for 20 years. Of course there are a lot of birders out there who have been birding that long (and substantially longer), but I would wager that most of them are not 32. Let's face it...those people are old. OLD. One day I will probably be OLD as well, but other than an increasingly large beer gut and a decreasing amount of hair, I feel pretty good about myself, and I intend to enjoy the waning days of youth.  At any rate, this is truly an anniversary of an incredibly nerdy magnitude, and really, really embarrassing.

When I started birding as a stupid 12-year old, once I started it never occurred to me that I would ever stop birding. It was too good, even if I was doomed to be a nerd for the rest of my life. I became a bird addict, a depraved junkie who just cannot get enough...maybe not the kind who would give an HJ in a back alley in exchange for a life bird...ok FULL DISCLOSURE I actually invented that whole bird-hj bartering system and that is totally me. Buddies, I'm still waiting for all those HJs...

Right. Buddies. While I don't have the endless financial resources that some have to pour into their state and county lists (surely there is something better to do with that $$$...or is there?), I have made lots of friends on the way. And friends, to a birder, are worth more than any Code 5 rarity. Birders, as I'm sure you have noticed, don't have many friends, due to the weirdness in their brains and debilitating lack of social skills. Luckily somewhere between 12 and 32 I managed to trick some people into liking me and now I have many a buddy. So now when I run into an old friend at a bar, they greet me joyous cries of "Number 7!", whether they are a birder or not. I have a girlfriend, Booby Brittany, who forced us to chase a Little Bunting last winter because she knew my soul would shrivel up and die if I didn't (she also has a thing for Sibes, though). It has been an honor and a privilege to have met so many good people on this godawful, shameful journey. So to all my friends I've made while working weird jobs (birders and otherwise) that made life tolerable (birded/drank with me) and to everyone who has lent me a couch or showed me a lifer while on some fucked up birding road trip or were down to be dragged around through the Arcata Bottoms at incredibly slow speeds...you know who you are. I owe you a big fat HJ.

I guess you want to see some pictures or something. I can't share images from the 90's (although I do have slides somewhere) and from most of the 2000's, so I figured I would at least break out the old hard drives and post some random pictures chronicling some more recent Great Successes.

In February 2009, I ditched my desk job in Concord, CA, for a volunteer position with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service on Midway Atoll. I wanted to get to know seabirds...and I got to know them quite well, particularly albatross. Truth be told, they are quite addicting. Anyways, though not really a seabird (although it does overfly vast distances of ocean), one of the birds I met on Midway was the Bristle-thighed Curlew, which is never something I had realistically thought I would ever see up to that point. This is the last North American bird to have it's breeding grounds discovered, and even there it is not very common. Saw hella on Midway though.

After Midway, I went out to Pennsylvania to work with Bat Conservation International, where I got my first taste of the wind energy industry and what it can do to birds and bats. After I finished there, I figured "Well, this is as close as I've ever been to Florida, so I might as well go". So I drove down to the Everglades, and picked up a quantity of lifers. Wood Stork was not one of them, but any place you can go where Wood Storks lurk by the roadside is a good place. Did you know they have pink feet? Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge, FL.

In the spring of 2010, I took a job in southeast Arizona, one of my favorite places to bird. It's great getting paid to look at birds where thousands of other birders drool about visiting. We lived in Florida Canyon much of the time, and put up a bunch of hummingbird feeders; this Violet-crowned Hummingbird was one of the more unexpected birds to show up.

After Arizona, I thought it would be best to move to the Aleutian Islands for the summer. I got to meet many Asian strays and a shitload of amazing seabirds, but one of my favorite moments was finding this Ancient Murrelet chick after a night of mist-netting Whiskered Auklets. This little chick, just a few days old, was going balls-out for the water, leaping astonishing distances into the air like a goddamned kangaroo in order to get over the seemingly impenetrable boulder field on the beach. We could hear a parent calling to it from the water. I have no idea what terrain had to be conquered or how far that chick had to go to get to where I saw it, but I have no doubt that it made it to the water.

In 2011, I thought it was time to get weird. I completed a road trip through eastern Mexico, which was rad, although not after getting robbed by a cartel...which was not rad. A month after that incident I was back in Mexico because I am crazy, counting migrating raptors for the spring in Chavarrillo, one of best places on the continent for seeing birds of prey during spring migration. I was enamored with the swarms of Mississippi Kites that moved through later in the spring. Que chido.

After Mexico it was off to North Dakota to do Piping Plover monitoring for Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge. It was a weird scene (though not nearly as weird as Mexico), but the birding was great. We had field sites all over the place and some of them had good numbers of Baird's Sparrows, which worked out quite well for me since they are one of the most lusted-after sparrows in the U.S. This bird was on private property, but if you ever get out that way, look for them at Lostwood or Medicine Lake NWR over in eastern Montana. PS fuck frakking.

In January 2012 we were evicted from the Space Station, our squatter house in San Francisco, which sent me packing north for a doomy road trip. In Washington I finally got to meet the iconic Snowy Owl, one of the best birds in existence.

My most-crushed Vague Runt is this drake Tufted Duck, which has been wintering at Lake Merritt, a few minutes from my house, for years. Hopefully he comes back soon so I can crush him for the millionth time. You want to join the crush party? Come visit!

In summer of 2012 I found myself living in San Diego, toiling with Least Terns and Snowy Plovers for the San Diego Zoo, and living in a cabin in Jim and Jim's backyard. Jim and Jim were great landlords, and their backyard was an excellent place to party. Many good times back there. I managed to survive the toxic birding scene, did a lot of great birding and made a few buddies...and I still like terns and plovers. Here is a young Snowy Plover chick that hopefully is a lot bigger and more feathered now.

At the end of 2013 I migrated south to Costa Rica for a few weeks, which is still being chronicled on BB&B because I am so damn lazy...but not as lazy as Don Mastwell, who still needs to enter a bunch of eBird checklists. Anyways, the birding was facemelting. If you are contemplating taking your first trip down that way, don't let some hippie nonbirder friend of yours convince you to go to some other country down there instead where everything has been clearcut to death. Here is an Emerald (Blue-throated) Toucanet from La Cinchona.

Fast forward to this spring, when I moved to the Lower Rio Grande Valley for another couple of wind energy projects. I had ample time to bird and get to the coast, where I really got a heavy dose of migration in the eastern U.S. for the first time. I didn't really know what picture to put up to represent the birding there (a crowd of annoying/clueless photographers would have been appropriate) but I think this crushed Indigo Bunting from South Padre Island sums it up.

What better way to finish than with the rarest Vague Runt I've ever seen? A beloved albatross, no less? I've lead a lot of pelagic trips the last couple years, and this has been the bird of all birds. Thank you Salvin's Albatross, you were my destiny. Half Moon Bay, CA.

Trinidade Petrel All The Way Across The Sky

Common Murres do live up to their name around these parts, but I still think they should be named something else. Wikipedia claims they are sometimes referred to as Thin-billed Murre, but I've never heard that.  Random fact of the day: people in Newfoundland love eating murres.

As promised, here are some more photos from my November pelagic trip out of Half Moon Bay. I think what I really need to do is get on an east coast pelagic, where there are so many potential life birds that I would likely be blinded by the end of a trip. I'm tearing up just thinking about it.

The way I envision my first east coast pelagic (likely a Brian Patteson boat, of course) would be something like what you see in the infamous Double Rainbow video (watch it if for some inexplicable reason you haven't seen it, and yes, he is on mushrooms). It would just be so...intense, you know? Great Shearwater would give me the shakes. Black-capped Petrels would bring me to tears. Band-rumped Storm-Petrels would make me scream for joy. A Trinidade Petrel would have me crapping my pants. I have no intention of eating mushrooms, however, I can totally see myself saying "Whoa. It's a Trinidade Petrel. Trinidade Petrel all the way. Whoa, that's so intense...whoa man.....WHOOOAAAAA! Oh my god oh my god! Woooooooo! Ohhhhhh, wowwwww!!! WOOOOOOO! Yeah! Oh my god, look at that! Trinidade Petrel all the way across the sky! Oh my god! Oh my god! What does this mean?"

Just something to think about. Have a cathartic week everybody.

Northern Fulmar. White morphs are pretty uncommon in California. They look so clean compared to their filthy gray cousins.

Surf Scoter. Not rare, but still rad.

Mew Gulls are celebrated amongst birders for their tenedency to not breed with other gull species, and being easy to identify. And they are, dare I say it, "cute".

A Pink-footed Shearwater has more moves than the average bird; they are perfectly at home flying like this (it's standing on its wing, not flying overhead).

Red-throated Loon. What to say about a basic-plumaged Red-throated Loon? They are....long. Yeah.

Rhinoceros Auklet with mini-horn. There's probably a market for their horns in China, which will eventually lead to their demise. WHY, CHINA?! WHY??????????

Brandt's Cormorant immature.

This was part of the big Ancient Murrelet flock we found. All my photos of said flock totally suck. Sigh.

Brown Pelican. Pretty good composition for a completely uncropped/unrotated photo, I reckon.

Vagrants Become You

Tropical Kingbird. Manila (Humboldt County). Naked eye identification while going 55 mph. The bird wasn't even on the same street. That's why they call me "Number 7".

Unlike last fall, I have not decided to boycott birdwatching this year. This strategy has failed in getting any life birds (the one-day-wonder San Francisco Northern Wheater would have been one), and has succeeded in burning lots of money and gasoline. But most importantly (for me), I've actually been seeing a lot of good birds. Tufted Duck, Sharp-tailed Sandpiper, Red-throated Pipit, Cape May Warbler, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Red-throated Pipit, Clay-colored, Swamp and White-throated Sparrows, and Lapland Longspur are a few not pictured today. Just remembering them gives me the warm fuzzies.

"Good birds", in birder parlance, just means rare birds. Due to their obvious rarity, it's bloody hard to get pictures of rare birds, and so I find the most fitting shots of rare birds are the worst possible pictures (see Lucy's Warbler below). It's a good thing I am not a photographer, or else I would bring much Shame and Dishonor to my family.

Right. Here are a few decent birds from northern California, a veritable Shangri-la of vagrants. Bird here.

Orchard Oriole. Point Reyes. We walked up and someone pointed to this "Hooded Oriole". But the pictures tell a different story. Unfortunately for you, there is nothing in this image that would allude to either species. I just like the picture.

Tundra Swan. Pomponio State Beach. A rare bird in many parts of the state. Adults, being swans, appear very graceful, but this juvenile seems to be smiling about it's giant, pink, runny shnoz.

Yellow-throated Warbler. San Francisco. The same one as pictured a couple weeks ago. Hella rare. It's still here.

American Tree Sparrow. Point Reyes. Dan and I found this rufous-capped northern beast on the side of the road. 

The infamous Yellow-billed Loon. Sunnyvale. Many photographers got better pictures of it than me, but I never thought I would be lucky enough to get Yellow-billed Loon shots. This is the first one I've seen since the 90's...

Summer Tanager. San Francisco. The best birds to chase are the ones right down the street from your house.

Blackpoll Warbler. Arcata. Rob Fowler pished it in. Not super rare, but it was a Humboldt County bird for me.

Prairie Warbler. Point Reyes. I wonder if the disgruntled birder we ran into ever got to see it. If not, she probably went home and hurt herself. She really wanted to see it.

Ancient Murrelets. Half Moon Bay. While not insanely rare, its safe to say that this would be a life bird for many a birder out there. We were lucky enough to see over 30 birds last week, which is the most I've seen in California.

Lucy's Warbler. San Francisco. I think this is the quintessential rarity shot.

Greater White-fronted Goose. San Francisco. Not very rare, but I had to follow up the Lucy's Warbler with a better picture...