Fall Pelagics: Blue Whales, Whalebows, Murre[let]s, The Burden

And just like that, the pelagic season has come and gone. I already covered my first two trips of the year, so I figure I can go ahead and wrap up the September and October trips I did out of Half Moon Bay.

The September trip was full of marine life...there was a lot going on offshore. Humpback Whales were present in large numbers, frequently giving great looks near the boat.

Lots and lots of Humpbacks. The sea was boiling with whales. The sea wasn't boiling whales though, climate change isn't that bad yet.

We had nice looks at Blue Whales as well. This is always a major bonus of any trip. I don't think a lot of participants know that this is something they can realistically see on trips here, so there is always an atmosphere of bewildered excitement when one of these surfaces near the boat.

It's always a great honor to get good looks at the largest animal to have ever existed. That's some heavy shit...literally.

The day was bright and sunny, and ultimately bad for photography; I have no crushes to offer you. More importantly, we had good numbers of skuas and jaegers, and hundreds of Sabine's Gulls, the most I had ever seen. The western U.S. has been plagued with them this fall, both offshore, along the coast and on interior lakes; there must have been a bumper crop of them this year.

The real drama came when a Hawaiian Petrel was called out...I was quite convinced (ok, totally convinced) I saw it at one point, but when I chimped my photos, all I could find was a goddamn Pink-footed Shearwater. Great confusion ensued...people were calling it out repeatedly...eventually (after the trip), we all realized that no one had gotten a photo of it and only a couple of the leaders really saw it in the first place. That said, when I was going through pictures for this post, the very first photo of the "petrel" I took shows a bird that...well, it looks like a Hawaiian Petrel, not a Pink-footed Shearwater, but it's so bloody poor that I don't think anything can be conclusively made of it. Did I actually see a Hawaiian Petrel, but it pulled the ol' fucking switcharoo with a shearwater? I do not, and cannot know. This is all very typical, as it would be a life bird and is one of the motivating factors for me to keep getting on boats. So close...so fucking close.

Unlike Hawaiian Petrels, which hate me, the local Northern Gannet loves me now and lets me look at it all the time. Here it is majestically surfing Mavericks.

On the first weekend of October, I led my last pelagic of the year. We were pleasantly surprised early on by the numbers of Black-vented Shearwaters (year bird!) we ran into. Black-vented Shearwaters are very unpredictable north of Monterey Bay, so we're always happy to get them on Half Moon Bay trips.

These little homely shearwaters mostly prefer to spend their lives in inshore waters, though some will venture out over the shelf edge.

Rhinoceros Auklets occasionally allow close approach by the boat, a refreshing change from how they normally react.

It's hard to take interesting scenery photos with no land in sight, but I think this uncropped photo has it all. The excitement of cruising up on a giant feeding frenzy of whales (complete with whalebows), sea lions and seabirds does not ever wane.

One of these murres is not like the other. In fact, one of these murres is not a murre.

2016 is, for me, the year that murres and murrelets come together. I have seen a great many murres and a lot of murrelets, but before this year I've never seen a murrelet of any kind seek the company of a murre. Earlier this fall I found a Marbled Murrelet hiding in the middle of a murre flock next to Sail Rock (famed gannet perch), and then there was this Scripps's Murrelet doing a good impression of a baby murre...what in the fuck is the world coming to?

It's not that unusual I suppose, but novel nonetheless. A pair of Scripps's Murrelets were the most unusual species on this day; they are a difficult bird to come by in October. This was actually the one and only "slow" day I've had offshore this fall...we had no storm-petrels, and for my third trip ever, no Black-footed Albatross. We were in weird, gross brownish water almost the whole time, so I suspect the bulk of the local seabird population were elsewhere.

Lots of Red Phalaropes offshore this fall, outnumbering Red-necked on some days. Most mellow.

Dall's Porpoise...such a good mammal, one of my favorites. This is another one of those species that is neither rare or expected on boat trips here, you just have to hope the boat will blunder into a pod. They do bowride, so you can get great looks, but they are agonizing to try and photograph because they are so fast. Most dolphins are slow and slothful in comparison. You would think that a mammal as big as a person would not be so difficult to crush 15 feet away, but such is life.

The Economy of Style has been absolutely rampant in this post, have you noticed? Black, gray, white, brown, plus a dash of color on the head of the gannet and the bill of the auklet...all part of pelagic birding. Well, no bird off our coast pulls off a limited palette better than a Buller's Shearwater...unfortunately this was another down year for them (locally, anyway) so we only saw a handful, and yet again I will go another year without Flesh-footed Shearwater...unexpected this is. And, unfortunate.

Unfortunate that I know the truth?

No! Unfortunate that you rushed to face him. That incomplete was your training. Not ready for the burden were you...

Sorry. Got a little carried away there. Sometimes dipping on Flesh-footed Shearwater feels like learning Darth Vader is your father.

Alcids, Ashies, Albatross, and a Lifer Genital Slit

My second pelagic of the year out of Half Moon Bay was pleasantly birdy to begin with, but let's cut right to it...it got a lot better when we happened into a pod of motherfucking Orcas.

Orcas. One of the coolest, most interesting animals in the world? Easily. People absolutely lit up when we came upon this group, which we were able to stay with for a while.

There was much frolicking, rolling around, tail slapping, general flopping and other things I could describe more scientifically if I was a whale nerd. Isn't that a crazy pectoral fin? The massive width is a good way to identify it as a male.

The wee individual in the front was the smallest member of the pod. It was interesting to see all the different shapes and sizes of dorsal fins.

Tail slappin'.

There was one big, full-grown male in the group - I think he was the one waving his tail around above. He hung out with one other larger individual the whole time, while the rest of the pod stayed together some distance away.

We got stunning looks at these animals, easily the best in my life. The big boy came up right next to the boat...too close to crush! I can't believe I'm lucky enough to get to see stuff like this...the Blue Whales are good enough, this is just excessive.

Orca belly, complete with genital slit. His ween lives in there.

Shortly after we left the Orcas, we got on our bird of the day, this Laysan Albatross. In northern California (off Monterey, Half Moon Bay and Bodega Bay), these birds are much easier to come by in August than later in the season, and this August 19 boat hit the albajackpot. This was the first, and presumably last, I got eyes on this year.

Despite seeing a satisfactory number of them in California over the years, I've never had really great looks at them here. What's up with that? Good thing I got to pet a bunch on Midway.

I've met birders who haven't seen Sabine's Gulls before. Generally, they are not happy people. They have this vacant look, almost like they are empty inside. Not surprisingly, those with regular exposure to Sabine's Gulls are generally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, though they are not necessarily enjoyable to be around (they are birders, after all).

No deluge of Cassin's Auklets like the previous week, though they were out there. The trick to seeing one well is to find a bird that is too full of food to attempt flying away, and too lazy to dive underwater when the boat comes near. This bird fit the bill.

This was a weird year for storm-petrels...no Blacks at all, which are not only expected up here, but they can often outnumber the other expected species (Ashy, Fork-tailed and Wilson's). Ashy Storm-Petrels did show well in August though.

Ashy Storm-Petrel putting on the brakes, right before dropping to the water to grab a miniscule morsel of food. By the way, the longevity record for ASSP is 30 years...seabirds can live heck of long lives, no matter what the size.

This has been a good year for seeing lots of Red Phalaropes offshore. This is my most adequate crush I can offer you.

This Common Tern made a close pass by the boat. In the greater bay area, it is much easier to find them 20 miles offshore than it is along the coast, though there is seemingly no shortage of good habitat (we have the Forster's Terns to prove it). It would be interesting to know where these birds are coming from...Alberta? The Northwest Territories?

Like many Common Terns, Tufted Puffins can hold dual citizenship, but this bird is likely one of the local breeders on the Farallones.

Despite how easy (relatively speaking) Tufted Puffins are to see during and immediately following their breeding season throughout their range, this is one of those birds that people just don't see very much the rest of the year. The only "off season" TUPU I've ever seen was a deceased bird that washed up in Humboldt County. Where exactly the bulk of the population winters is unknown.

Just a gannet hanging out on Sail Rock. No big deal.

Sooty Shearwaters were doing their normal afternoon thing, streaming by Pillar Point Harbor as we came back in. Another good boat trip in the books!

Boat Season Has Arrived

When August arrives, birders across the continent have one thing on their obsessive brains: shorebirds.  This Global Birder Ranking System #7 U.S. birder?  Two things...shorebirds, and seabirds.  Oh, and another thing, pointing and screaming bird names as loud as possible with a captive audience.

Of course, there are always seabirds Out There, but the end of July heralds the beginning of pelagic season.  Away from Monterey Bay and Half Moon Bay, there is no where else on the west coast where boats depart on the regular to troll for tubenoses, for alcids, for boobies, for jaegers...you get the picture.  I am lucky enough to be able to get on a lot of these trips (mostly out of Half Moon), and spend time with this impressive and difficult group of birds...the birds of The Deep. In anticipation of my first west coast seabirding trip of the year (and yet another shot at Hawaiian Petrel, a bird I need), I thought I would cobble together some photos from past July and August trips. As always, if you are thinking about doing your first west coast pelagic trip, or your first ever pelagic trip, what are you waiting for? Get on a boat!

But these anxious feelings are nothing different from any other year.  What is different about this year is El Nino...not a speculated one, not a possible one, but a real one.  The nonbirder associates El Nino (sorry for the lack of tilde) with rain, the west coast seabirder associates it with rare birds. Weird seabirds have already put in appearances in California this year...a Red-footed Booby, a Nazca Booby, a Kelp Gull, a Bridled Tern...and none of those birds were even seen out to sea!  So who knows what will be out there?  Frigatebirds have already been showing up in SoCal, another encouraging sign.  Fingers crossed for Cook's Petrels, an El Nino special, but I will be happy with a Hawaiian (no fucked up ocean currents required), which is very much a bird of August.

Late summer is a good time for albatross, and Black-footed Albatross are almost always out there this time of year.  Unlike many other seabirds we see, if you see a Black-footed Albatross, you are going to get great looks.  It's also a good time for Laysan Albatross (top photo) as well, but a word of warning: 75% of Laysan Albatross called out on boat trips end up being Western Gulls.  Don't become part of that gruesome statistic...caution is warranted.  

Shearwater diversity does not tend to be very high at the beginning of pelagic season, but Sooty and Pink-footed are never missed, assuming the boat gets out of the harbor.  An early Buller's or Flesh-footed is never out of the question, and of course there are a great many other possibilities.

Small numbers of Northern Fulmars are often found on these summer trips, and the birds usually look something like this. They are ragged. They are haggard...and lets face it, they are godawful. Hideous. It's amazing they can even fly, they are molting so hard. Fulmars later in fall are very respectable in appearance and flight capabilities, not so much our summer lingerers. Luckily, if you've never seen a fulmar before, they are not at all afraid of the boat, so you can wonder at their horrible glory from close range.

August is a great month for jaegers, especially Long-tailed, who often will still be retaining their brilliant extendo-tail. The bulk of southbound Long-taileds seem to pass through from August to mid-September, so now is a good time to get them. The always-popular Skua Slam is always within reach this time of year as well.

Black (above) and Ashy Storm-Petrels are the expected storm-petrels early in the season, though Wilson's are not unusual. With El Nino brewing, this could be a good year to find Least Storm-Petrel this far north, though probably not this early. That said, the birding legend they call Papa Echo Lima recently saw some from shore down La Jolla way, which portends great things for those who want to see them up here.

Fact: 75% of Fork-tailed Storm-Petrels claimed on trips are actually phalaropes...but if you are one who warrants caution, then that 75% is not for you. These are Red Phalaropes, the less common, chubbier, more desirable phalarope.

Speaking of chubby, Cassin's Auklets are expected on trips throughout the summer and fall, though their numbers vary.  Unlike albatross and fulmars, Cassin's Auklets hate boats, so getting good looks at them can be stressful.

I know this isn't a compelling photo, but I think it sums up what looking at murrelets can be like over the deep.  Scripps's Murrelets (above) are the expected species, though last summer Craveri's were seen on a number of boats in July and early August. I'm hoping they come back for an encore this year.

Oh yeah, crippling rarities can show up any time...it just takes a shitload of luck, and maximizing your time on the water. This Salvin's Albatross was the star Vague Runt (albeit one not so runty) of the pelagic season last year, and things have never been the same.

All photos were taken offshore from Bodega Bay and Half Moon Bay.

Marin Birding: The Le Conte's Sparrow, A Suspect Sapsucker and Reversed Gender Roles

Most sparrows don't earn the title "crippling"....but most sparrows are not Le Conte's Sparrows. Abbott's Lagoon, Point Reyes, CA.

The rut is over.  The birding doom and gloom that plagued the Global Birder Ranking System's #7 U.S. birder late this fall has lifted, and the Vague Runts have been raining down upon me ever since I lurked back north from the Salton Sink.  Have you ever had a vagrant shower? Try it some time...it is invigorating.  It is cathartic.  You are not immune to despondency...you need birds, and rare birds will really jolt your system.

As 2014 drew to a close, a few things became apparent:

Despite my consistent denials, people think I am Nelson Briefer. The One True Nelson Briefer.

Since we are on the internet and you can't see me, I can neither confirm nor deny that I am Nelson Briefer.

Therefore, I am possibly Nelson Briefer.

In my mind, I really don't think I'm Nelson Briefer. But am I? Dark forces may be at work.

None of this is relevant today's post, of course, which features some fine recent birding in western Marin County.

Le Conte's Sparrows are well known as one of the most skulking passerines to be found north of Mexico, and in the past that's held true for me. That said, if I were to have written this bird up for the Bird Police (which I did not do), I would have used this phrase to characterize it's behavior: It didn't give a fuck.

It truly didn't. We were all surprised. This was by far the most confiding member of it's species I've seen, which is fantastic since it looms on the verge of facemelting and I've only seen a handful in the past. It's also blindingly rare here on the west coast. No wonder this very species was responsible for tearing the San Diego birding community asunder, as "Todd Ingress" knows so well.

Perhaps you would prefer a more panoramic view of the Le Conte's Sparrow. Here it is, surveying it's domain of lupine.

When winter storms come through and strong winds blow off the ocean, it is not unreasonable to expect to find Red Phalaropes in northern California's coastal wetlands. On this cold, rarity-infused morning, Red Phalaropes had come off the sea to take a mellow respite at Abbott's Lagoon.

Look at this face. How can one know this face? How can one truly come to grips with a pelagic sandpiper? I get the strong impression that this is the most didactic of all shorebirds. It is telling us something, of this there is no question....and I think that something is this: Reverse your gender roles. Wear hella red, have sex and get in fights for one month a year, then dress simply and live at the whim of the ocean for the other eleven months. And whatever you do, don't raise your own offspring.

If you ever thought Seagull Steve was some kind of pipit stroker...you would be right. Here is an American Pipit, balancing on a pole. This is the sort of bird that makes casual bird enthusiasts not want to dive into actual birding...fuck that noise. I love pipits.

After Abbott's Lagoon, we headed back to Bear Valley Road, where both Yellow-bellied and Red-naped Sapsuckers had been reported from the same tree. We saw this bird, which definitely had a red nape.

But wait...something is off. The red cap seems almost contiguous with the nape, which no California birder ever wants to see. But there's something else...something is missing...

What is wrong with its face????

That's right...the bird has no white eye line on either side of the face. Not even a hint. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. It's not like the bird is a super obvious hybrid, it doesn't have red all over it's head, but where there should be white there is only a resolute and very definite blackness. I've never seen a bird like this, have you? In any case, due to the nape patterning and facial weirdness, I suspect this is a hybrid Red-naped X Red-breasted, possibly backcrossed with a Red-naped.