ID Challenges: The Worst of The West

Birding...it's not easy. Sure, there are times when you get out of the car, walk over to a group of birders, and they wave their hand at the staggering mega that is sitting there in front of you. Some birders will chase rarities, see the bird, then ask to have the field marks explained to them by others...how easy! How great! What else is great? Harlequin Ducks, Roseate Spoonbills, Elegant Trogons, Scissor-tailed Flycatchers, Scarlet Tanagers...those are beautiful, unmistakable birds.

Most birds? Not that easy. Not that easy to find, not that easy to see well, not that easy to identify. I thought I would take the time today to run down some of the hardest families of birds in the western Lower 48...people like lists, after all, particularly birders. There is some overlap here with other parts of the country, but there are distinct differences...for example, the east coast has more terns and thrushes, but less storm-petrels and hummingbirds.

Before we get to the list, I should name some Honorable Mentions that didn't quite make the Top Ten:

- Swans. Tundra vs. Trumpeter can be extremely challenging. Luckily, we only have two swan species to really worry about (until Bewick's Swan is split). That's a Tundra Swan up top there.

- Petrels. Petrels are arguably the most difficult of our birds, period. A large suite of them can potentially show up off our coast, very few birders know them well, and they rarely cooperate with boats or come close to seawatching sites. They fly incredibly fast and all come in white, gray, black and brown. However, they are rarely encountered relative to all the other birds we are discussing today; while often seen on repositioning cruises, there are few other instances when you can realistically expect to see them.

- Hawks. Hawk ID is not exceptionally complicated west of Texas, in my opinion, though obviously there are problematic plumages out there. Of course, Accipiters will always be misidentified by everybody, so hawks are deserving of a mention (an honorable one).

- Oystercatchers. This problem is unique to Southern California...Black Oystercatchers are as distinctive as any bird we have, but Black X American Oystercatcher hybrids and our local American Oystercatcher subspecies look confoundingly similar. American Oystercatcher is one of the most overreported birds in the area.

- Plovers. Telling apart American and Pacific Golden-Plovers can be absolutely excruciating. Beginning and intermediate birders will often misidentify Black-bellied Plovers for either Golden-Plover species. The smaller plovers aren't bad though.

- Crows and Ravens. Some birders can't tell crows and ravens apart from one another...well what about Common Raven vs. Chihuahuan Raven? American Crow vs. Northwestern Crow? In some places, these ID challenges can seem almost impossible to overcome, particularly with the crow situation in Washington.

- Gnatcatchers. If you are birding someplace where Black-capped Gnatcatcher can reasonably be found, the other two southwestern species can give you a world of trouble, especially if you don't find yourself birding down there very often and don't know the calls well. They are hyper little bastards, which makes seeing already subtle field marks an extremely taxing ordeal.

And now...the list!

#10 - Sparrows. The western U.S. is blessed/cursed with an impressive diversity of sparrows. The majority of them are migratory and/or have a tendency toward vagrancy, and they are all brown, brown, brown, brown, brown, brown brown...gray, and brown. However, though they are terrifying for beginners, sparrows aren't so bad once you've put some birding years in the rearview, and some of them are downright difficult to misidentify. That said, Spizella sparrows (like the Clay-colored above) can be especially vexing. Savannah Sparrows, one of the most abundant sparrows in the country, are arguably also the most misidentified of them all, as they can pass for Song, Lincoln's, Vesper and Baird's.

#9 - Sandpipers. Show me a rookie birder and I will show you someone who is going to be greatly troubled...by shorebirds, sandpipers in particular. The dowitcher duo is legendary, peep problems are relentless...to put it bluntly, almost every sandpiper species is at a high risk of being misidentified for something else. Those of us on the coast always have Siberian species on the brain, which complicates the picture even further...yikes. However, the "expected" species do become pretty familiar in time.

#8 - Warblers. Spring warblers are decidedly unproblematic, with the exception of waterthrushes (that's a whitish Northern above). However, you may not be aware that there are three other seasons. Most warblers do not have the same snappy facemelt in October that they do in April. They are referred to as "confusing fall warblers" for a reason, though I despise that tired and overused phrase. There are so many identification pitfalls here that there is no point in even starting in to them. Californians have it especially bad, since we have multiple records of almost every breeding warbler species in the country.

#7 - Vireos. Vireos make people very uncomfortable. Seen poorly enough, every single vireo species (with the exception of a vagrant White-eyed) stands a good chance of being misidentified. Just a few days ago on Facebook, I watched (seemingly in slow motion, like a car crash) in horror as a birder sought out the expertise of an expert, to identify a bird she had photographed very well. He called it an Orange-crowned Warbler...it was a Warbling Vireo. At least with a sandpiper you know it's a sandpiper...with vireos, people call them warblers (and vice versa) on the regular. The hardest vireos? Warbling vs. Philadelphia, and Blue-headed vs. Cassin's vs. Plumbeous. That's a Philadelphia above.

#6 - Longspurs. Away from the prairies of eastern Colorado, Wyoming and Montana, we don't even get to see longspurs in spring. When we get them, they always look like rubbish. Lapland (above) can look like Smith's, Smith's can look like Chesnut-collared, Chestnut-collared can look like McCown's. And 90% of the time, you are getting total garbage looks at them. They all look similar, their calls are not drastically different, and they hate being cooperative for birders. That is a recipe for pain.

#5 - Hummingbirds. Unlike sneaky longspurs and skulky warblers, you can typically get really solid looks at hummingbirds. That said, this may not be of much use to you if you are not prepared...male hummingbirds are facemelting birds, but young males (like the Costa's above) and females can be brutal. With the exceptions of Violet-crowned and maybe Berylline, I think every one of our young/female hummingbird species is at an extremely high risk of being misidentified. Don't believe me? Go geri-birding in Arizona and watch the carnage unfold.

#4 - Storm-petrels. I lead a lot of pelagic trips, and I will tell you that no group of birds strikes more fear into the heart of an inexperienced birder than these. When it comes to these birds, people seeing them for the first time completely surrender any attempt at an ID to the leaders on the boat. We could tell them whatever we wanted and get away with it (fortunately, we want to tell them the truth). Other than the lovely Fork-tailed Storm-Petrels (most of the birds above), they are either all small black birds or small black birds with white rumps. Generally, they want nothing to do with the boat you are on and you are going to be really unsatisfied looking a them if there is a big swell that day. New developments in the Leach's complex have everyone reeling. These are the birds your nightmares are made of.

#3 - Jaegers. You probably didn't see this being #3....but the difficulties of jaeger ID are legendary. Even dark Pomarines and South Polar Skuas get mixed up. Trying to ID certain individuals can lead to such circular logic and mental numbness that I am getting tired just thinking about it. Just be happy when you get to see "easy" individuals, like this Pomarine above.

#2 - Flycatchers. You know what? I haven't done a quiz in a while. What do you think this bird is? The answer is at the bottom of the post. Hint: It's a flycatcher.

Flycatchers are just heinous. Think about each gnarly genus we have all lumped into one jaw-clenching, teeth-grinding family...Contopus, Empidonax, Myiarchus, Tyrannus, etc. That's some heavy shit. The first three genera are especially bad. I don't even know what to tell you here, except to advise you that you can at least get close to the right species. Hammond's and Grays are not similar. Willows and Pacific-slopes are not a confusing couple. Buff-breasted do not look like pewees.

Pewees....yeah. Just identify pewees correctly (don't misidentify them for Empids) and you will command at least a small modicum of respect. Don't report an Eastern unless it's calling though, or you will be run out of your state.

#1 - Gulls. Obvi. I have nothing to say about gulls that you haven't heard before. This is a perfectly typical Herring Gull...I bet not many of you knew that.

There you have it, the list, for your edification and mine. Do you agree, or do I have it all wrong? Are ducks and geese deserving of being on the list? Are alcids alarming? Do Wrentits cause your brain to boggle? I hope not. At any rate, feel free to let us know.


p.s. The quiz bird is a Least Flycatcher. Props if you got it right. And before you descend into a nerdy rage, yes it is a flycatcher that breeds in western states. #notjustavaguerunt

Of Fruit and Glory: Lifering Again In Ventura County

Brown Boobies have made their presence known in 2015 up and down the California Coast all the way north to British Columbia. You show me warm water, and I will show you boobies. All photos today are from Ventura and Santa Barbara County waters.

In October of this year, I returned to an autumnal birding battleground where I had not waged avian war since 1999: Ventura County. It was like MacArthur returning to the goddamn Phillipines. Pretty much the same thing. The place can, and has been, littered with Vague Runts in the fall, so it was great to be back at the proper time of year. I had racked up massive numbers of life and state birds in the 90's in Ventura, when I was but a young nerd, so it was refreshing to be back during the month when anything can happen. This time, I had a specific target bird in mind...not a standard rarity per se, but a tubenose that can be found offshore in the right month and the right luck of the right year. And so with comrades old and new, we lurked offshore on a big Island Packers catamaran.

The most abundant bird of the day was Black-vented Shearwater; we had obscene numbers of them in the channel near Santa Cruz Island. It was really, really gross. 

Jaegers were in abundance, which is always good news for a birder, but it also means that a birder is going to get seriously humbled. Jaeger identification is not for the faint of heart.

I reckon this is a juvenile Long-tailed. It's real dark. Look at that cute little stubby bill.

Here is another juvenile Long-tailed. It's not real dark, unlike the previous bird. It's doing a passable juvenile Western Gull impression here, which is odd.

This was an interesting bird...there was debate over dark Pomarine Jaeger vs. South Polar Skua as this bird made a single pass by the boat; despite the heavy bill, I don't think this has wings broad enough for a skua, and I would also expect to see more white visible (or any at all) on those fresh primaries growing in. It's also a deep, almost featureless dark brown on the upperparts, all of which point toward Pomarine Jaeger in my book.

Out between Santa Cruz and Santa Rosa Islands we ran into some migrant Pigeon Guillemots. These birds migrate north for the winter, which is not a trendy style of migration at all.

We had a mellow pair of young Sabine's Gull near the boat for a bit. It was a soothing experience.

Here is the second bird. Twice mellowed. By this point in the day the birding had gotten a bit slow, but finally a few Black Storm-Petrels appeared. A few minutes later, we came up on what exactly I was hoping for: rafts.

Rafts of storm-petrels, of course. Storm-petrels are not for dilettantes. These are not birds meant for casual enjoyment. They certainly don't belong anywhere near stringers, because the devoted stringer can transform a storm-petrel into any number of species with little effort. Storm-petrels, by their very frustrating and subtle nature, can make you want to bash your head into a wall...or they can yield sweet, nectary storm-petrel fruit.

Ah, there is nothing so refreshing as a big raft of storm-petrels. There were lots of Blacks, the expected species, but it was quickly apparent there were much smaller birds in with them. Were the rafts bearing fruit???  See top rightish above.

And there they were...Least Storm-Petrels (front right and back). Finally. This was a life bird. The wait was finally over. The fruit had been bore.

This was the bird that had lured me down...it was time we became acquainted, and it was indeed a pleasure. Leasts are very small, very dark (note lack of any noticeable upperwing markings on the bird above), and have tiny, wedge-shaped tails. They really do resemble little bats in shape, if not in flight style. Majestic? No. Glorious? Yes.

After getting past the Least and Black Storm-Petrels (and getting some bonus Ashy Storm-Petrels), we came upon a pair of murrelets. Luckily, they were Craveri's Murrelets, which I'd only seen once before. These were good birds, damn good birds, especially on top of a long-awaited lifer. Aren't Mexican birds great?

You can see their distinctive dark underwings, which Guadalupe and Scripps's lack.

Finally, it was time to visit the famed booby roost at Santa Barbara Island. Brown Boobies began to appear more and more frequently, and everyone was hoping an additional Sulid would be lurking at the roost.

Eager birders frothed at the mouth and smacked their lips lustily. They wanted boobies something fierce.

Good lord, there were a lot of boobies on that rock...85! Here is a chunk of the boob roost.

At the end of the day, it was a great trip, and a nice change of pace from the waters I typically lurk in. Thanks to Dave Pereksta for organizing it and Joel Barrett for encouraging me to come down. A couple days later, with one Gareth Jones and Officer Searcy (the notorious Bird Policeman), I found my nemesis Ventura County bird trodding upon the sod...a Red-throated Pipit. They have been a dime a dozen a recent years, but for whatever reason that was not the case in the 90's, when it was my turn to flog the sod. Despite the lack of photos, I assure you that it was a succulent (and Siberian) county bird.

Between the nostalgia and quality birds, my time down there was Great Success. Luckily, I did not have to wait much longer to catch the next Siberian Express...you know what I'm saying?

Jaegers Compiled..Boobs And Tubes...A Nemesis Named

So long Black-footed Albatross, I will see you next year. Please bring along some of your Short-tailed buddies to our waters next fall, thanks. Photographed off of Half Moon Bay, CA.

It was a weird year offshore here in the bay area...for me, rough waters and a moderate amount of seabird activity. Lots of humpbacks, but no blues. I will say right off the bat that I did NOT see any of the rare petrels, which pains me greatly, especially with that cooperative White-chinned Petrel that just sat next to the boat like a goddamn fulmar for an unacceptably long amount of time. But that is the gamble you take as a pelagic junkie...you just roll the dice over and over again and eventually you will get played a hand of lifers. Here is a quick photo summary of the last trips I led for Shearwater Journeys this year, out of Half Moon Bay, Bodega Bay, and Sausalito, respectively.

The more I bird, the more comfortable I am with jaegers. That is, comfortable with the fact that identifying jaegers is hard. This juvenile putative year-old Pomarine was easy enough to identify by species, but Tom Johnson had no choice but to step in and question (correctly, I think) what I thought of the bird's age. He is a bird wizard, after all. Photographed off Half Moon Bay, CA.

Look at those broad wings, that big bill. It almost looks like a goddamn skua. Aside from the birds's build, the strongly barred rump/uppertail coverts and large number of white primary shafts help identify it as a Pomarine.

There was no shortage of smallish terns offshore this fall, but every single one I got a good look at was a Common, like this bird. I prefer Arctics, but its not like Common is an easy bird to get from shore around here, so I will take them. Photographed off Half Moon Bay, CA.

There was a massive flock of Sooty Shearwaters hanging out in Half Moon Bay for several weeks this fall; behold the masses.

Here it is, everyone's third favorite gull! I won't even speak of the two that come first, for I have never seen them. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

My, what a wing pattern you have Sabine's Gull. Thank you for making it so bloody easy to identify you in flight from great distances, and being so aesthetically pleasing from short distances.

Buller's Shearwaters were lacking this fall. I demand more Buller's Shearwaters. That's two years in a row where these birds were a pain in the ass to find offshore. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

What was that? You want to see more COMMON TERNS??? Well, I'm kind of surprised. This is indeed a common bird in some places, one you need not venture offshore for. I would have thought you wanted to see a different species, but I won't deny you, dear reader. This is a wonderfully typical HY Common Tern. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

Eh, not a crush, but it's always nice to get seabird shots backed by the horizon.

Speaking of goddamn skuas, here is a South Polar Skua...a bird that is not unusual here, but one that always commands attention. I hope I get to see them on their breeding grounds someday, where they are a decidedly different beast...which is a penguin-slayer, for the uninitiated. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

While I didn't enjoy much luck with tubenoses this fall, I did get to briefly enjoy this totally uncooperative but pleasantly rare Guadalupe Murrelet, only the second I've ever seen. I'm not sure if I could have identified this bird without the help of have a DSLR; talk about a clutch birding tool. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

Jaegers are exceptional-looking birds when they have their flamboyant tails attached. This soothing Parasitic Jaeger made a close pass by the boat off Bodega Bay, CA.

Long-tailed Jaegers are one of my favored seabirds, and I still feel strongly about this one although it does not fall in the "flamboyant" category. Also, it's always good to get a full "jaeger slam" into a single post. Photographed off Bodega Bay, CA.

My last boat of the year did a couple laps around Southeast Farallon Island (SEFI), the epic seabird colony and vagrant trap that sits about 18 miles off the coast. While waiting for boobies I saw some nerds up by the hideous choade-like lighthouse.

Look at this place! Fuck.

With El Nino raging, it has been a banner year for boobies off the California coast. SEFI has supported a healthy roost of Brown Boobies for the entire year. This was a very rare bird just a few short years ago, but things are changing.

Here is a female, almost in adult plumage. She still has to lose some of that mottling on the belly and maybe some brown in the wing linings.

The Brown Booby roost has also been home to this adult Blue-footed Booby (on the right, obvi) for some time now. There has been little follow-up to the massive Blue-footed Booby invasion California experienced two years ago, despite high sea surface temperatures continuing seemingly just about everywhere. Of course, California birders will be wondering about the Northern Gannet that has been here for years now...well, we missed it! Was it seen the day before? Yes. Was it seen that day? Yes. Was it seen the next day? Of course.  Why does this matter?  Well, I have never seen it! Can I tell you how sick I am of missing that bird over and over again? Year after godforsaken year? UGGGGGGHHHHHHH. The gannet hates me. I, in turn, hate the gannet. It is officially my California Nemesis Bird. Have you ever had a Nemesis Bird that was actually a single individual bird? Christ, I am being driven into a manic rage just thinking about it. Hopefully it will start showing up on Alcatraz again next spring so I can continue dipping on it from shore. So no luck with the gannet, but I did manage a life bird the previous day...and the previous weekend...more on that to come.

The Blackfish Giveth: Lifering Over The Cordell Banks

I've seen some Orcas. Not hella, but a handful. I've seen them in the Aleutian Islands (Attu and Buldir), one out of Half Moon Bay, and now one out of Bodega Bay. Shearwater Journeys had a trip out of Bodega Bay last week, and I had the good fortune to be leading that day. In my book, it was a Great Success.

The uncanny thing is that almost every time I see Orcas (and possibly every time...if only I had kept this very important data) I end up getting a life bird the same day...last time it was a double lifer day, with Salvin's Albatross and Craveri's Murrelet. So although many people who have seen Orcas in the wild feel a strong, almost mystical attraction to them, their feelings for The Grampus pale compare to mine.

As you can tell from the dorsal fin, this wasn't a big adult male. This is about as far as it came out of the water...we could hardly see the whites of it's eyepatches. It looked like it was carrying a kill around, thus it's lack of interest/avoidance of the boat and the number of birds feeding on kill remnants (see below).

And as you have deduced by now, I got a life bird.

Let's not waste any time. This was my life bird, one I was really hoping for this fall due to the warm water that has been sitting off the coast for several months now. It is none other than the legendary GUMU (Guadalupe Murrelet), an extremely good bird in northern California and a difficult and unpredictable find anywhere in U.S. waters. Very few have made it this far north in recent years, at least close enough to shore to be found by boats making day trips.

Compared to Scripps's Murrelet, note the longish bill, huge white spur in front of the eye, and also the white kinda creeping up behind the eye, giving the eye a "framed" look.

The bird was quite cooperative, and I have no doubt that everyone on the boat was able to see it. This was the last alcid I needed to see from the eastern Pacific!

Before all the Synthliboramphus excitement, the day began with seeing some familiar faces from SoCal boarding the boat in Bodega Bay, which is a difficult thing to process when you woke before 5 AM, your morning coffee is wearing off and your dementia-inducing seasick medicine is beginning to kick in. Luckily I remembered everyone's names and awkwardness was averted, which in some circles is enough to make me a BIRDING HERO.

As we got a few miles out, the expected fog bank closed in. A (presumable) Wilson's Snipe whizzed by, which was not a bird anybody expects to find offshore. Gulls following the boat began attracting Common/Arctic Terns in decent numbers, which zipped in to view and back into the fog in a matter of seconds. This was odd, since we were not very far out and these terns are typically not very numerous. Once we cleared the fog, the true picture emerged....there were Arctic Terns everywhere. For almost the entire day, one could scan the horizon and see Arctic Terns. There were only a handful of confirmed Commons. Personally, I would guess that I saw 150+ Arctic Terns that day, which is more than I'd seen in my life combined.

When encountering small terns at sea and you have a decent camera, I highly recommend on-the-spot chimping to help confirm the identity of uncooperative terns. That, or have Steve Howell near you at all times. These are both Arctics...check out the almost Sabine's Gullish wing pattern of the young bird on the left.

Note the crisp black edges on the primaries.

I've never had such good looks at these birds before. Hella cooperative.

Here's a classically streamlined, long-tailed Arctic. Of course, as you can see from the above photos, not all of them are going to look like this.



Here is a Common Tern, which looks dumpy and ungraceful (disgraceful?) in comparison. Note the slighly longer bill and the slightly different shape of the "keel". The black on the primaries looks messy in comparison to what Arctics show.

Less numerous but also omnipresent were Sabine's Gulls. We never had a single flock, but they were with us the entire day as well, almost all the way back in to the harbor.

And what do hella small pelagic gulls and terns mean? It means jaegers, obviously. And we did have hella. Only 3 Long-tailed for some reason, but lots of Pomarine and lots of Parasitic, most of which were pretty far offshore. There was much thievery to be had on the high seas with so many small terns and Sabine's Gulls around...here dark and light Parasitic Jaegers team up on a really bummed out Arctic Tern.

A different Parasitic Jaeger, this one a very clean adult.

Black-footed Albatross, Arctic Tern, Black Storm-Petrels, a shearwater sp. and a California Gull all converge on where the Orca made a kill. Pretty cool collection of birds if you ask me.

Pomarine Jaegers do not fear the boat. This bird came right in for a brutal crushing.

Look! Jaeger talons!

Here's one that still has it's spoons, although they look pretty thrashed.

Long-tailed Jaegers remind me of falcons sometimes...I reckon this photo illustrates that nicely.

The cap on a Long-tailed Jaeger is very different from the other jaegers...it's very neat and confined, which for some intangible reason helps make them a cut above the rest..

Yes, we had some skua too. This was my first JAEGER SLAM of the season. It is typical, by the way, to capitalize JAEGER SLAM, in the event you experience one (slammed by one). This is also an extremely typical skua picture, in case you are wondering.

Enough of the kleptoparasites. We also had a single Tufted Puffin on the trip, in Sonoma County waters.

This bird is either going through a gnarly molt or is rapidly evolving into a new sort of penguin-being (interesting if true). I've never seen a healthy-looking alcid look so poorly equipped for flight before.

It was a great way to kick off a grimy weekend of high-quality September birding. I'll be on Debi's Monterey boat this Saturday...see you there.