Winter Birding In Humboldt: Pipers of Rock to Suckers of Sap

Winter birding in Humboldt County is always rewarding, with a little effort.  Even on days when you want to bash your own skull in with a rock because you did not see BRAMBRING, the birding is solid.  One of the spots worth checking is the North Jetty of Humboldt Bay, which is where everyone goes for seawatching and rockpipers.  The South Jetty is equally as good, but it takes a hell of a long time to get out there in comparison.  One of my favorite non-BRAMBRINGs species we saw was Rock Sandpiper, which are hella localized in California.

Even though there are always, without exception, Rock Sandpipers at the mouth of Humboldt Bay in the winter, that doesn't mean you will actually see one.  They are fickle birds...go at the wrong tide and you have a good chance of dipping.  I maintain that low tides are best, but I suspect not everyone is in agreement about that.  At any rate, not only did we see Rock Sandpipers, we saw fearless Rock Sandpipers, which were valiantly trying to take the notion of "confiding" birds to a whole new level.

I've never had such good looks at one, even in the Aleutian Islands where they are common. Confiding rockpipers are not unusual on the jetty....along with Rock Sandpipers, Surfbirds and Black Turnstones are common in winter, and a few Black Oystercatchers are often around as well.  In migration, Ruddy Turnstones and Wandering Tattlers join the party.

Here is a second individual, with more white above the eye, enjoying some salt spray.

Although not a pelagic bird, Rock Sandpipers likely go for months at a time without ever having fresh water available to drink.  While this bird looks like it is experiencing a catastrophic, possibly lethal sneeze, it's actually just expelling salt water filtered out by the salt glands in its head.

The humble Surfbird is always popular with birders who don't get to the west coast very often.  It is a basic, utilitarian bird, lacking any bells and whistles.  Birds in alternate plumage are very striking, but for much of the year Surfbirds are fiercely loyal devotees to The Economy of Style.

This sculpin is not stoked, which you can probably deduce by its horrible facial expression and the fact that it is on land...something it likely has not suffered through before.  It is experiencing a long, painful, drawn out death at the hands of this interestingly marked gull.

While much of this gull leaves the impression that it came out of the Western Gull factory (black primaries, yellow orbital ring, dark back), the amount of duskiness on the head, back, and side of the neck seems excessive for a Western...on the back, it looks like there is some horizontal barring.  I think this Western Gull has some Glaucous-winged Gull components.

For those of you distressed about the doom of the sculpin, I offer you some comfort: we will all end up this way.  That is the way of things.  The way of the sculpin.

Unlike the sculpin-gobbling beast above, this Olympic Gull is not disguising itself as a Western.

Black-legged Kittiwakes are reliable from North Jetty in the winter, and they are not unusual to see inside Humboldt Bay either.  This is a very tough bird to get from shore south of Humboldt County, so go to the jetty and enjoy them...no scope required.  There were also a handful of Ancient Murrelets further out this day, and all three species of scoter.  Not bad.  Don't go out there when the surf is big though, as you can be swept off and drown.  Not joking.

We did ok with some other local rarities, relocating a Tricolored Blackbird and Loggerhead Shrike, but the highlight for me was this Red-naped Sapsucker at College of the Redwoods.  This was a sight for sore eyes, as besides dipping on BRAMBRING we had also dipped on the 2 Red-naped Sapsuckers that were living in the same neighborhood.

This bird was easy to find and hella cooperative.  Interesting to me was how the throat pattern on the left side of the bird was classic for Red-naped (muddled black and red border), while the right side of bird featured a typical Yellow-bellied pattern...which is not suggestive of anything, I think, except that sapsuckers are variable.

It's a striking bird, no?  Even in the daze of a catastrophic dip, birding in Humboldt can always lift the spirits.  

Pic Of The Week: Not A Purple Sandpiper

Rock Sandpiper. The North American shorebird that winters further north than any other, we should have nothing but respect for them. The subspecies pictured here (cousei) are year-round residents of the Aleutians, which is crazy. Adak Island, Alaska.

Purple Sandpiper is the last North American commonish sandpiper that I need to see...I'm glad we have its practically identical counterpart to see over here.

Winter Tour Part II: Ocean Shores Cripplers and Even Snowy Owls Need To Vomit

In one day I went from seeing 0 to 10 Snowy Owls. Thank the bird gods.

After getting less than 2 hours of sleep in Olympia, the one known as "Stilt" and I were whisked away for a deluxe birding trip in Ocean Shores, WA. The birding was incredible, we could not help but see everything we looked for. It wasn't even raining. I quickly came to the conclusion that birding in Washington is amazingly easy. King Eider (lifer!), Snowy Owl (lifer!), Emperor Goose, Rock Sandpipers, Black-legged Kittiwakes, Trumpeter Swans, Merlin and Palm Warbler were among the best birds of the day. Stoked.

Damon Point was a zoo of photographers, but they seemed relatively well-behaved. The owls high tolerance for people probably helped the situation...Tweeters, the Washington birding listserv, has been filled with various hilarious, dumb, and even intelligent messages about birders and photographers harassing this winter's massive crop of Snowy Owls. At least I can claim that our crew did not flush any birds...

Arctic royalty was the theme of the day, between the Emperor Goose and the King Eider (actually, a Queen Eider) being easy to find and readily viewable. I don't think things will ever be the same...thanks to Alex Wang, Charlie Wright and Annie Meyer for all their help.

One of the owls looked like it was attempting to puke up a pellet the entire time we were watching it. This owl was significantly more entertaining than all the other owls.

Snowy Owls make me think of cats, I don't know why.

Sometimes, it feels better if you puke.

Emperor Goose and Canada Goose. Royalty and Peasantry.

The Emperor enjoys putting greens as much as any non-royal goose.

This is the proper way to restrain your dog in seaside communities.

Rock Sandpipers with a Black Turnstone and Surfbird. If you want to see a Rock Sandpiper without trekking up to Alaska, Ocean Shores seems like the right place to do it.

Hordes of photographers were out. The lenses that my group was using seemed small and shriveled in comparison.

They were all looking at this Snowy Owl. It seemed more interested in sleeping than anything else. At one point I saw a dude sitting incredibly close to it...instead of taking pictures, he was eating a sandwich.

Out Here Standing On A Rooftop Screaming

Different shades of rock. Sandpipers. Rock Sandpipers. Adak Island, Alaska.

Whoa! Its almost Thanksgiving! How did that happen? I'm contemplating entering a deep and profound state of panic. What else is there to do? All my friends have higher year lists than me....but that's ok, because we all know who is having more fun. That, and I am positive that they didn't run into dozens of Bramblings this summer.

Yes, birders like to lord their bird sightings over each other. It's all part of the game. They sound like a bunch of assholes, I know, but they're mostly just juvenile. Actually, one of the biggest assholes I can think of is a certain birder from San Diego. In fact, this person's reputation is so well-known that he would even recognize himself if he was to read this. So I don't feel bad then, because I'm just keeping it real.

Rock Ptarmigan! Adak Island, Alaska.

Which is too bad, because San Diego is a quality county for birding in California, and I have great sympathy for all the poor schmucks who run into this tool and don't know what they have on their hands. One of the last things birders expect when they run into other enthusiasts in the field is for them to be complete dicks. Awkward, badly dressed, and prone to horribly mispronouncing things, yes, but not dicks.

Honestly, what does that accomplish? As cheesy as it sounds, birders have a community, and it doesnt really benefit anyone to give your peers shit for trivial and outright stupid reasons. You know what I'm saying? If you want to vent and act like a child and pretend people want to pay attention to you, start a blog for God's sake.

Yes I know this is a gruesome picture, but these are Bramblings, so cut me some slack. Attu Island, Alaska.

Yes, that last bit was intentionally ironic, thanks. I hope you are all preparing yourselves for the doom and horror that is sure to arrive at your doorstep on Thursday. I also suggest everyone evacuating the entire Mono Basin, because something bad will happen on Thanksgiving. I guarantee it. Things may never be the same again.

Steaming west through the Aleutians on the Tiglax.

Something So Offending As You

The (charming) old pet cemetary on Adak Island.

It makes sense, in the long run, to get some basic facts down on the table here…so here we go…

The Aleutians are a long chain of volcanic islands, stitched along the Pacific Rim’s famed Ring Of Fire.  They stretch from all the way from just off the tip of the Alaska Peninsula all the way out to Attu Island, a distance of about a thousand miles.  In previous ice ages, when the seas were lower, the Aleutians acted as a land bridge connecting Russia and Alaska.  It’s thought that the New World came to be inhabited by people through this link.

A male White-winged Crossbill in Homer.  He made my eyes bleed.

They islands lie considerably south of the Arctic Circle, so it can get damn windy and cold, but the weather was definitely bearable (this does not apply in winter though).  At least, it was not much worse than the weather on top of Mt. Wrightson or Carr Peak in southeast Arizona.  There are no bears or moose on any of them (or Aurora Borealis, for that matter).  Caribou have been introduced to a couple, as have foxes and rats.  Foxes and rats can take huge tolls on nesting birds, so the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge (my employer who I do not represent here in any way shape or form) have been actively attempting to remove them for a number of years now.  But the whole reason I’m up here at all are the millions of birds that use this area.  A vast array of seabirds nest here…..cormorants, gulls, kittiwakes, jaegers, auklets, murres, murrelets, puffins, storm-petrels…the list goes on and on.  The albatross and shearwaters that forage between the islands breed further south (Hawaii, New Zealand, etc.), and the many sandpipers and waterfowl that pass through during migration are on their way to/from Russia and Alaska.  Relatively few songbird species breed, but those that do (“Pacific” Wren, Song Sparrow, Lapland Longspur, Gray-crowned Rosy-finch, Snow Bunting) seem to do well, as their only native predators in much of the chain are Peregrine Falcons and Common Ravens, who usually seem to be preoccupied with larger things.

Of course, one of the huge draws of the western Aleutians to birders is its proximity to Russia.  Old World birds that are almost impossible to find in the rest of the United States can show up out here with regularity during migration.  So to a birder coming from the Lower 48, getting paid to live in the Western Aleutians is a dream come true  (scratch that….a birder’s wet dream come true…yeah, I went there) especially when you take into account that most of the birders who find their way to Attu pay an exorborant sum to do so.  Oh, and NO you cant see Russia from anywhere, goddamn it.

Ok.  Now you are all experts on the region.  

 Adak Island's Clam Lagoon.  Back in May, it was chock full of Kittlitz's Murrelets.

So all the way back in May, I got to spend a few days in Homer, which is advertised by a lot of people as being one of the best towns in Alaska (I can neither confirm or deny that). The refuge has its headquarters here though.  Some casual birding around town was productive.  Hello Trumpeter Swan.  It is nice to meet you.  Oh, hello there White-winged Crossbill.  It is nice to meet you too.  And hello to all you fabulous Northwestern Crows.

After leaving Homer in May, I flew out to Adak Island, in the central Aleutians.  This is where my Odyssey of nerd-dom really began.  Adak is an old Navy base which was abandoned by the military some time ago, after the Cold War had a chance to thaw out.  Bad puns aside, its now a bit of ghost town, although about 100 people live there and it gets a lot of visitors in the form of caribou hunters, birders and fisher-people.  

Harlequin Ducks are common in much of the Aleutians, although they do not breed here.  

When I first stepped foot out there, I walked around in a kind of giddy haze.  I didn’t really know what to expect.  As I stepped out of the airport terminal, a Rock Ptarmigan flew overhead.  Sick.  Gray-crowned Rosy-Finches and Lapland Longspurs sang from…everywhere.  So sick.  It was really hard to get any work done with all of these birds around.  A Hawfinch in town was my first Siberian vagrant of the trip, and also the only one I got to see.  I don’t quite know why it was bothering to eat birdseed….it’s bill looked fit to crush human skulls.

Rock Sandpiper territorial displays are hilarious.  They kinda just wave one wing around at other sandpipers around.  Its pretty great.

The birding was really good.  Other highlights included dozens of Marbled and Kittlitz’s Murrelets (which we could see from the road), Arctic Loons, Tufted Duck, Red-faced Cormorant, Bar-tailed Godwits, Arctic Terns, Common Redpoll, etc. etc.  All these birds were crippling me, and at times I was at an absolute and profound loss at taking in everything.  I just never really ever thought I’d have any business being in the Aleutians.  I’ve heard about Attu Island and its jaw-dropping roster of vagrants for as long as Ive been birding, so it was a pretty uncanny place to find myself.  After a few days the Buldir crew, the Kiska crew and the Agattu crew jumped onto the Tiglax with a bunch of fox trappers to be shipped out for the most bizarre summer I’ve ever had.

Look at this shit!  The Aleutians are incredible.

The Mirror Is Everyone's Tomb

A pair of Western Gulls on the North Jetty.

It was good to be in Arcata again....I have to admit, living there for most of my adult life has made me really into the whole small town thing.....which is why I have a terrible fear of ending up in Lee Vining with The Grub someday.  I think I even managed to not forget anyone's name this time around, which is ideal.  Thanks to Nice Lady, ASOC and Pinko for the hospitality.  As usual, I didn't see everyone I wanted to, but that isn't really possible without rerooting up there at this point.

Nothing rocks more than a sandpiper...a rock sandpiper.  That weird gray lump on the upper right is the back of a second one.

I did get to do some birding while the weather was deece.  The Virginia's Warbler in front of Gary Bloomfield's house "showed well" as some nerds would say, and I look forward to getting reacquainted with them in Arizona in the coming months.  The Rock Sandpipers were something I hadn't caught in a few years so seeing a couple should managed to reduce any grinding of the teeth for a while.

Behold the Virginia's Warbler.  My first Humboldt County bird in years.  How embarrassing!

A few other highlights were Greater White-fronted Geese, a flyover minima Cackling Goose in with the Aleutians, and a lone river otter taking a dirty dip at the Oxidation Ponds.

This is my last week in San Francisco, and I have to admit I'm just a wee bit stoked.  Not that I won't miss all kind, beautiful, self-righteous know-it-all people, but I'm getting the itch to move again and stare at strange birds.  I'm a veteran of southeastern Arizona, but still need to find a Common Black Hawk, a Gray Vireo, a Whiskered Screech-Owl, a Rufous-capped Warbler.......you get the idea.  I'll miss things like shows/good food/girls/any kind of social life.......but these sacrifices are generally worth it.  If I get to live and work in places that some people would gladly drop thousands of dollars just to visit, then so be it.

Oh yeah....the mystery bird from the previous post is none other than a Cooper's Hawk.  Silhouette madness.