The Coast Is Alive With The Sound of Vague Runts

September went by very, very quickly...I have much catching up to do. September is generally considered the best month of the year to be birding in California...seabirds, shorebirds, and passerines are barging through the state in huge numbers (by West Coast standards) and the potential for finding a rarity is as high as it can get. Not that October is any slouch...it can be just as good, if not better...the main problem this month is that you have to battle the Yellow-rumped Warblers. This week rarity fever has been particularly acute...after Sunday passed, day after day has been absolutely perfect for putting down Vague Runts on the coast, and I've been stuck in the office like a chump...the Perpetual Weekend looms large, in memory. Birders at Point Reyes and Bodega Bay have been getting rewarded every day with the overcast skies and south winds...the patches are just clogged with rare right now. No Yellow-green Vireos for me this week (three have been found in the greater bay area in the last few days, two photographed...fuck), but fall is not over yet.

This fall was a good one for Baird's Sandpipers, it seemed like they were getting reported a lot more than in most years. Seeing them in California always feels like a mild victory, though they aren't quite unusual enough to be a true rarity. Frank's Dump, Hayward, CA.

Lesser Yellowlegs bring the mellow compared to their louder, larger relatives. We get good numbers of them at Coyote Hills (where this bird was), but they are pretty local throughout the bay area.

In early September I moved from Oakland to Albany, to move in with Billy so we can raise the shit out of this baby that is on its way. Albany (on the north side of Berkeley) is a tiny city that is little-known outside of having Golden Gate Fields and the Albany Bulb, so tiny that most people who don't live here don't even have an opinion about it...and we in the bay have a lot of opinions. Anyways, my last morning in Oakland I thought I should bird my patch one last time before I had to start a new one. Middle Harbor Shoreline Park has never rewarded me with anything really juicy (an extremely late fall migrant Common Tern was my best bird to date), but I always though the place had a lot of potential for waterbirds. As expected for early fall, a horde of loud Elegant Terns were loafing on the mudflats. A throng of birders, presumably an Audubon group, was also there; when they moved past me without mentioning any birds of interest I presumed that it would be another typical visit. I was wrong.

Within minutes of the group finishing their trip and leaving, I found a no-doubt BAR-TAILED GODWIT not far away on a mudflat. I couldn't believe it...finally a rarity here...and not only a self-found vague runt, the best bird I'd found in a few years!

Unlike the godwit I had seen at Bolinas just a few weeks before, this bird was quite close. I walked out to the end of a breakwater and hoped the sleeping would come in closer as the tide came up, which worked out brilliantly. I was quite chuffed.

I was out there for a while, and eventually the birds accepted I wasn't a threat and went about their business. Great looks at this quality rarity, this quality SIBE. Now, I'm not a big proponent of the One Bird Theory, but with the help of Peter Pyle I was able to compare photos of this bird, the Bolinas bird, and the Don Edwards bird, all of which had been seen within weeks of each other in three different counties. Personally, I feel there is a strong probability that this bird and the Bolinas bird were one in the same, while the Don Edwards bird was another individual.

Luckily, the bird stuck around a few more days and was relished by a great many birders; I'm only aware of one or two other records for Alameda County, and people were stoked. I guess I can't call it quits on this patch after all.

Now that we got this rarity out of the way, we can go back to robin-stroking. We take them for granted here, but there is nothing not to like about Chestnut-backed Chickadees. They are one of a handful of our native passerines that have adapted well to urbanization, and their flocks often lure in various migrants that will join up. Lake Merced, San Francisco, CA.

When I talk about robin-stroking, I'm serious. Young American Robins are rather interesting early in the fall. Don't deny it. East Wash, San Francisco, CA.

Chickadees and robins are well and good (what would we do without them?), but those are not birds you want to devote a lot of energy to in September. Gray Flycatcher, on the other hand, is one of those birds. Westerns and Willows are the only expected Empids on the coast any time of year; anything else from that genus is a very solid bird. Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, CA.

I love getting county birds in San Francisco, even though I haven't lived there for a few years now. I also love seeing birds out of range, even though Gray Flycatchers breed about 4 hours east of here in Mono County. A life of seeking rarities will do that to you. Hopefully this individual continued south along the coast, and wasn't so turned around that it thought the best migratory route it should take was southwest over the Pacific. That's not how I would have done it.

Wild Turkeys drink bourbon, not sure what it was doing here. Coyote Hills Regional Park, Fremont, CA.

The One Bird Theory

Prothonotary Warblers are great...I was more than happy to see this one in Goleta, in Santa Barbara County, last fall on the way to visit friends/family/birds in Ventura. In 2015, eBird has records for Prothonotary Warblers from 10 different locations in California. Could this just be the same bird wandering around? Of course not, but birding is rife with empty questions like this.

According to The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive, there are more birders now than ever. I am inclined to agree with him. Birders are birding harder than ever before. Birds, in much of the country, are really getting birded.  Perhaps as a result of increasing coverage over the years, I am constantly hearing the same thing...the one bird theory.

The one bird theory is simple, though a bit cumbersome to explain. If a Ruff is seen in Oregon one day, and another Ruff is seen in Washington a few days later, birders will wonder if it is the same bird. If a Common Crane is seen in New Mexico, and a Common Crane is seen in Texas a few days later, birders will wonder if it is the same bird. If an Emperor Goose is seen in Humboldt County one day and an Emperor Goose is seen in Sonoma County the next day, birders will wonder if it is the same bird. So rather than assuming or deducing two different individuals are involved, a birder will wonder (and that is the key word here) if the same individual has been found in both places.

Now some of you might think they know where I am going, that I think the one bird theory has nothing to it. That is not true. The one bird theory turns out to be correct quite often. What does bother me is how often I hear or read the phrase, "I wonder if the [Species Blablabla] seen at [Location A] is the same bird that was found at [Location B]." It is usually just left at that, without any discussion. Well friends, you don't have to just put your wonderment out there for the world to behold, you can actually have an informed opinion...you could even decide yourself!

But how can one do this? Why think when one can wonder? Examining the one bird theory is not so difficult, it just comes down to considering a few factors and asking a few questions.

Elegant Terns are obvious birds...you know when they are around. It is important to know when birds are around, and when they are not.

Were they seen at the same time?

Overeager birders who quickly spout their one bird theory hypothesis often don't even check to see if the different individual sightings involved were actually happening simultaneously. A bird can only be in one place at a time, not two. Do your research people, don't make others do it just to answer your own question.

Migratory habits of many North American species are well understood. Black Terns go south in winter, north in spring. Not too complicated.

What direction is it going?

This question is especially important to consider during migration. Let's revisit our Ruff example from above. Let's say the sighting happens in October. In October, shorebirds migrate south. If a Ruff is seen in Oregon, it is incredibly unlikely it will turn around during the height of fall migration and show up in Washington. The Ruff will not suddenly figure out it is in Coos Bay and then try to hightail it back to Siberia in order to find the correct continent before it continued its southward migration. So, keep migration and dispersal patterns in mind when pondering the one bird theory.

Cassin's Finches, like several other high elevation species, periodically "invade" unusual places every few years in search of food, which can take them to unusual habitats and places where one would not expect them. When such patterns are evident, one need not spend much time contemplating the one bird theory.

Is there a pattern?

For various reasons (often unexplained), a region will occasionally experience an irruption of a vagrant species, such as with Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks, seabirds and northern finches. So when a lot of Common Ground-Doves sightings are popping up in the Midwest, which happened last year, there is obviously no reason to think it is just the same bird miraculously choosing to stop in heavily-birded vagrant traps and being found repeatedly.

An out of range Western Gull would be a worthy candidate of the one bird theory. They are not highly prone to vagrancy, and would stand out in a lot of places. A bird wandering around the east or the interior west could definitely be found in more than one place.

How rare is it?

There are rare birds, and then there are rare birds. If two Golden-cheeked Warblers were seen in two different places in California in one year, one should rightly consider if the same individual is involved...it is just incredibly unlikely one would get here in the first place (and we do have a record!), let alone two around the same time. However, if two Chestnut-sided Warblers show up in different places in California in the same season, the idea of them being the same individual would be a ridiculous notion unless both birds were melanistic or banded or something like that (we will get to that soon). Chestnut-sided Warblers are not at all unexpected in California, and the state gets many records every year, up and down the state. It's quite rare for the one bird theory to be in effect when a "expected" species is involved.

In the eastern United States, there is no shortage of habitat a wayward Western Tanager could use spring through fall. How many Western Tanagers are eastern birders missing? Probably hella.

Think about birder coverage.

In most, not all, parts of the country, birders are not covering all available habitat very well. Most is inaccessible, due to lack of birders, roads, trails, or because land is private or government property that the public can't get to. When this is the case, think about all the area where birds are being missed...what are the chances that the subject of your one bird theory will somehow be found in more than one place, and somehow not vanish into the abyss that is all this other unbirded habitat? Think about the odds...they usually are not very good.

Ah, the Common Nighthawk. An easy bird to see in some places, but how many of the Common Nighthawks out there are people really seeing? Nightjars are hard...they can be hard to identify, but just finding them is typically the problem. Finding them roosting is blind luck, and birders can't see them foraging in the dark. The unfortunate truth is that the vast majority of nightjars go completely undetected in their normal range, let alone as vagrants! 

Think about detectability.

Some birds are easier to see than others. An Ivory Gull is easy to see. A Common Poorwill is not. A Ferruginous Hawk is easy to see. A Gray-cheeked Thrush is not. A Long-billed Curlew is easy to see. A Wilson's Snipe is not. A Black Skimmer is easy to identify. A Common Sandpiper is not. A Laysan Albatross is easy to pick out. A Tristram's Storm-Petrel is not. When birds are hard to find due to their habits or simply hard to identify, you can bet that a lot of these birds are going undetected, even when they are right in front of us! Then there is the fact that most birds in our area go undetected because they are in places where we don't bird, or because they fly right over us during migration...when birds migrate, they don't stop in every single county on their way to their destination. Think about this: a Yellow Rail seen in one place is practically guaranteed to never be seen in another. So to put it all together, one must ask how many of a certain species we are missing in a certain area. This has everything to do with likelihood of the one bird theory holding up for a vagrant. Keep these things in mind when the one bird theory is wracking your brain...the more you think about the detectability of a species, the more the one bird theory has a tendency to lose water.

This Pink-footed Shearwater is a good example of what a bird can offer that would help identify it on an individual level. This bird has a lot of molt going on in the flight feathers, definitely something to key in on, and the underwing pattern is a great thing to examine as well.

What does it look like?

I saved the one of the most obvious things to consider for last. These days, many rarities are photographed well. So before you put your public wonderment out there, see if you can compare photos of the bird(s) in question. You can compare age, plumage, sex, molt, wear, patterning, bands, etc. This is what typically provides a definitive answer when questioning if the same bird is involved.

And there you have it...it boils down to knowing status and distribution, what the birds look like, and some focused questions about the odds of the same bird being found twice versus the odds of a different individual being involved. The one bird theory will always be out there, and for good reason, but now you are equipped to test it. You are ready. Wield the hammer of this knowledge in listservs, forums and Facebook groups, and you too can make birders better.

Brown Wonders...Blue Intimacy...Red Feces

No longer do birders scream "SKUUUAAAAA!!! SKUUUAAAAAAAAA!!!" off the California coast like madmen. With increasingly gnarly seas and so many of our seabirds leaving our waters for their breeding grounds in far off lands, pelagic trips have ceased running for the year. But the birds are still nice to think about, even if they conduct their business in lands and waters beyond our reach.

Few brown birds receive as much love and respect from birders as the skua. Ah, the South Polar Skua, aka "The Brown Wonder". Seeing that they spend half the year in the Northern Hemisphere, I have a feeling that the more politically correct name would be "Bipolar Skua." Right?

There are exceptions, of course. There are many birders who have never seen Flesh-footed Shearwater. We leaders of west coast pelagics get a lot of requests for these birds. Behold its fantastic brownness!

Of course, the bright pink bill lends some character, and adds to the creepy first-cycle Heermann's Gull effect.

On the last Half Moon Bay boat I was on, we ran into a massive mixed pod of Humpback and Blue Whales. They were very close to the boat and made no attempt to keep any kind of distance from us. For a long time we idled in the water while whales slowly frolicked around us.

This pair of blues spent a lot of time very close to us. It was not quite exhilarating but something very, very close to that.

Blue Whale nostrils are large. Especially up close. The explosive exhalation of a Blue Whale is really something to hear, especially when the seas are so calm the only things you can hear are squabbling gulls and other distant whale blows. What a fucking awesome experience.

Blue Whale flukes! There's a couple other surfacing whales in the background.

Humpbacks were plentiful as well. They have (proportionally) larger flukes than Blues and often have big white patches on the ventral side. The undertail pattern is how Humpback researchers can often tell individuals apart.

For your viewing pleasure...whale shit! Wish I could ID it to species. No, that's not bloody stool, that's digested krill remains.

Of course, seeing whale shit is one thing, but any real biologist will want to take it to the next level. We took some poop aboard and Liz #1 did some science on it with her tongue. Marmot assists.

Despite the abundance of Pink-footed Shearwaters offshore, they only breed on three islands off the Chilean coast. Hella vulnerable. A strange thing to consider when they are often the most abundant tubenose to be found offshore.

One of the thousands of things I like about tubenoses is how sleek their lines are when they tuck their feet in and are in cruising mode. They look completely built for flight, much like how I am completely built for birding.

A California Gull is no match for a Pomarine Jaeger on the hunt, even if the gull is the same size as the jaeger. You can actually make out the fish being disgorged in the photo. If only I could have all my food first swallowed by someone else...a boy can dream, right?

Mola Molas can often be spotted near the surface with a handful of attending gulls, hopeful to pick some parasites off the large fish. This is a first year Western Gull.

Molamolamolamolamolamolamolamola

This is a zombie mola. Note the unseeing eye and facial scars of the undead.

Buller's Shearwaters were particularly common this year, with large numbers foraging relatively close to shore. For a few weeks it was even a bird you could see from land, which is not at all typical. The ocean is a fickle thing, and so too are it's birds.

Most Buller's crushes feature the m-pattern on the top side of the bird, but I reckon the stark white underwing is ajust as engaging.

As fall slips into winter, the hordes of Elegant Terns that pillage nearshore baitfish populations retreat south to Mexico. There they will stay until it is time to make sweet sweet tern love again.

All photos taken today are from September and October Half Moon Bay trips with Shearwater Journeys.

Whales. Shearwaters. Ecstasy.

I don't often photograph Black-vented Shearwaters, but when I do, I prefer a whale in the background. All photos today were taken in the East Santa Barbara Channel, CA.

June....it's almost over? Not sure how that happened. With my last day of field work (August 1) rapidly approaching, this summer is cruising by at astonishing speed.

However, the birding on Santa Cruz Island of late has not been astonishing. I mean, it probably is to visitors from out of the area, but as someone who more or less lives here...its pretty slow. The window for late spring vagrants officially slammed shut several weeks ago when I saw a mostly yellow female tanager/oriole thing as I was leaving the ranch one morning for work...it flew directly away out into the scrub, and with it my hopes for picking up any more tasty eastern vagrants.

The boat trips to and from the island have been lackluster lately as well. The Scripps's Murrelets and Cassin's Auklets finished breeding and floated off to god-knows-where, and we haven't been seeing much else...so I was pretty shocked the other day when we ran into giant hives of feeding shearwaters, common dolphins and Humpback Whales...blog wizard Corey Finger must have used some of his magic (he also documented the ride at 10,000 Birds).

One of the whales did a couple huge tail slaps, which were almost like upside-down breaches. It inspired some awe in me, I'm not going to lie.

Part of one of the feeding frenzies. Note the close proximity of the common dolphins to the whale; dolphins and whales feeding literally side-by-side is not something I remember seeing before.

The birds also wanted to be as close to the whales as possible. Shearwaters and Western Gulls followed the whales closely whenever they were on the surface.

Black-vented Shearwaters were a bit of a surprise. This species is typically only in the Santa Barbara Channel from late fall to spring; I wonder if there has been an influx of warmer water, which this species is fond of.

Sooty Shearwater was the most abundant species that day (3500+), as expected. Their numbers will continue to grow off the west coast as we get deeper into summer.






















A lot of shearwaters are molting right now and look terrifyingly haggard. Check out those hilarious primaries!

And yes, I realize how monumentally nerdy "check out those hilarious primaries" sounds.

Nothing warms the seabirder's heart like an enormous flock of shearwaters to sort through.

Pink-footed, Black-vented and Sooty Shearwaters chase after a whale. These are the commonest California shearwaters; Buller's start being seen recorded in August, and most Flesh-footed records are from September and October. Some Short-tailed arrive by October, but they are hard to pick out from the masses of Sooties, and are difficult to find south of Monterey.

One of the few passable Pink-footed Shearwaters I shot that day...my camera settings were slightly off, which resulted in an embarrassing number of blown opportunities. I gotta say, I'm really looking forward to being on some pelagic trips this fall! With multiple trips planned out of several California ports and a pair of North Carolina trips, I should end up with a pretty solid seabird list by the end of the year.

Elegant Terns are back! It's hard to go so long without them.

Too bad they will all be balding soon. Those black caps they wear look so slick.

These guys looked to be fishing as close as they possibly could to the edge of a marine reserve. To their credit, it didn't look like they crossed into forbidden waters.