A Birder's Guide To Rare Bird Reporting

On October 19, Juli Chamberlin and Bob Toleno found, described, photographed, received independent confirmation of, and reported a Red-throated Pipit (above) at Arrowhead Marsh in Oakland, CA. Since then, there have been up to 3 Red-throated Pipits and at least one japonicus American Pipit found there, which hundreds of birders have gotten to enjoy through tears of joy and sobs of ecstasy. A birding success story often starts with good reporting.

The moment of truth has arrived...you are in the right place at the right time, and have found a rare bird. At least, you think you have. What next?

Welcome friends, to another groundbreaking post by the Human Birdwatcher Project, who boldly asserts that "Birders are people too!", despite the mountains of evidence to the contrary. The topic of the day? Not rare birds per se, but the people who see them. One of the most frustrating things that established birders deal with are miscues in rare bird reporting made by others. If an amazing bird is rumored to be around, you want to feel good about it before you drive 3 hours to lay eyes on that Spotted Redshank, Northern Wheatear, White-cheeked Pintail, or whatever it may be. Unfortunately, complications frequently come up that (to put it mildly) frustrate others who may want to look at a bird. Every birder that is down for a good twitch has spent many, many burned hours and gallons of gasoline to hunt for birds that simply didn't pan out, for one reason or another. I don't mean a simple dip, I mean other observers are left wondering (or outright believing) that the bird they searched for never existed in the first place.

You might think, "Seagull Steve, you are a stupid elitist asshole. I wouldn't drive an hour to see a rare bird that someone else found if my life depended on it. Are you really about to dictate how people bird? Asshole.", and you may be right, but I can live with that. After all, you don't get to be the nation's #7 birder by having soft skin and not looking at rare birds. BUT, this post isn't for those who have no interest in sharing bird sightings with other people. Take heed of these words, and you may find yourself bathed in the warm glow of admiration from the birding community, instead of mildly resented and/or suspected of being a major stringer.

Brian Sullivan earned 34 GBRS points when he found, identified, documented and properly reported this Arctic Loon last winter. Photographed at the Municipal Wharf in Monterey, CA.

So let us return to our moment of truth. You found a real vagrant, lets say an out of range Smith's Longspur. Huzzah! What do you do next? Many birders may do the following:

- Before reporting the bird, fail to rule out similar species.
- Not report the bird in a timely matter, if at all.
- Report the bird solely via eBird, whom many birders don't regularly monitor or participate in.
- Leave out crucial details like specific location, directions, time of day, other birds the longspur was associating with, etc.
- Fail to provide links to photos and/or give a rudimentary description, let alone a detailed one.
- Assume that even though the bird is inaccessible on private property, no one will care about it.
- Report the bird in such a casual, flippant manner that others are left wondering if you have any idea about what you are talking about.
- Think about unintended consequences of their report: is it a species a hunter might like to bag? Is it somewhere where hunting is allowed? Is it a sensitive/protected species that could react poorly to disturbance?  Is it a bird photographers will crowd and chase around mercilessly?

Every winter I run into visiting birders at Oakland's Lake Merritt who are looking for this Tufted Duck, but they are desperately wandering all over the place because many birders fail to report minimal details about where the bird actually is being seen. For those birders who actually miss this usually cooperative bird because they are looking in the wrong places, it must be extremely frustrating.

Obviously, from time to time birders have good reason to do these things...if so-and-so happened to find this longspur in a place they were completely unfamiliar with (i.e. outside of their home state), it would make sense to just chuck the thing onto eBird instead of search for the appropriate listserv, sign up, wait to be confirmed, then hope you are not on "moderated" status when you attempt your first post. In such situations, even finding an appropriate Facebook group (this one perhaps?) can be useful in getting the word out.

To use another example, Paul Lehman, a Great Birder, recently passed along information about a Marsh Sandpiper in California that he did not even see, with no description or photo to speak of...but everyone knows Paul Lehman is a Great Birder, so no one fussed about this. That said, almost every birder in the world is certainly not Paul Lehman. Literally. And of course, when the photos were made public, it was obviously a Marsh Sandpiper (a one day wonder, unfortunately).

Right. So how does one deal with this Smith's Longspur correctly?

- Run through the field marks, photograph it, wait around to see if it vocalizes.
- Get a hold of a field guide. Make sure it's not another species of longspur, or more shamefully, a Eurasian Skylark (this infamous botch happened in California once).
- If you're unsure, use a reference to ascertain the rarity of your longspur.
- Think about the consequences of reporting the bird...hunters, private property issues, potential disturbance, etc.
- Get a message out to the appropriate listserv/rare bird alert as soon as it is convenient. Contact area birders if you know any. Put your photos up somewhere accessible online.
- If you completely crushed the bird, often your photos alone will inform others as to the validity and awesomeness of your sighting. If not, a few lines of description in your report will be very helpful, with or without a photo. I cannot stress this enough. Include time of day, directions to the spot, and other pertinent details, such as having your car broken in to by tweakers while you were in a longspur daze.
- Let the glory rain down upon you. It is birder gold.

This is a Short-tailed Hawk from the Florida Keys. If I found it in California (a first state record) and had nothing but this mediocre picture to show for it, I would probably go to Curtis Marantz-like lengths to explain the bird (not a simple feat for a mere human), even though many current and former Bird Police know me. If I did nothing but lackadaisically lob this essentially undiagnostic photo online somewhere, the bird cops would no doubt make sure my kneecaps were broken within 24 hours.

I'm not going to go into birders and private property issues (that's a huge clusterfuck situation in and of itself), but even if you see your longspur someplace with no public access, most people would be very interested to know the bird was there in the first place...we are nerds after all, and nerds crave knowledge. Without a doubt there are those who whine and complain about having to hear about these sorts of teasing sightings (why???), but they are a small minority who are used to having much scorn heaped upon them.

There you have it...that is the mental checklist I go through whenever I find a rare bird. With 19 years of experience behind me, I think it's about as refined as its going to get. I could sit here and regale you with stories of pointless and unsuccessful rarity chases, but when you walk around with a huge #7-shaped chip on your shoulder, you will find that you have enough enemies already.

Virgen Del Socorro Part I

After 4 days and nights of birding the Sarapiqui lowlands and Quebrada Gonzales (which was amazing...so amazing that I couldnt even take bird pictures because the mixed flocks were so intense...go there!!!) it was finally time to move on to a new hotspot and get some different birds. We decided to bypass birding the Tirimbina Biological Reserve and instead headed to Virgen Del Socorro, a steep canyon that held great habitat and also happened to have a little-traveled road going down one side and up the other, perfect for birding.

After picking up Torrent Tyrannulet from the bridge below the turnoff for the road, we stared furiously at a distant black and white raptor that may have been a dark Hook-billed Kite or a Black Hawk-Eagle (both species would appear, conclusively, later in the trip). Staring furiously at the bird was ultimately fruitless, but shit really hit the fan when a White Hawk appeared over a ridge on the other side of the canyon and flew over the road. Goddamn, what a fine bird that was...a species I had literally dreamed about seeing. Of course, when I went to check my photos, I saw I had a "bumped wheel" and everything I had just shot was pretty much worthless. Not stoked. After we parked our hilariously small and poorly powered rental car, we proceeded down the canyon, where I could hear a loud, repetitive, high-pitched call. Luckily the culprit was sitting in plain view...a juvenile White Hawk!

Barred Hawks showed up shortly after we parked; there were multiple individuals soaring above the canyon for much of the time we were there. Although an easy find at La Virgen, we did not find them anywhere else.

Barred Hawks are big birds with ridiculous proportions; broad wings, a long neck and stubby tail. This shape isn't uncommon in larger tropical and subtropical birds of prey though.

Unlike Barred Hawk, who do not dare to occupy lands north of Costa Rica, Short-tailed Hawk is common in much of Central America.

I think all the Short-taileds we saw were light morphs. They superficially resemble Swainson's Hawks but never form kettles and are much shorter-winged, proportioned more like a Red-tailed Hawk; they often prefer hunting over forests to open country and agricultural lands.

Howler Monkey is a landmark animal of Costa Rica...common, widespread and the loudest land mammal on earth, their iconic bellow resonates from many a forest. If you haven't heard one before, there are a few words I could use to describe hearing them..."visceral" "thrilling" and "terrifying" come to mind. I think this is a Mantled Howler Monkey?

Despite the fact that it wasn't very close, this is one of my favorite Howler images from the trip. I'm not obsessed with monkeys by any means, but that face is pretty precious. Ticos call howlers "Congos".

Blackburnian Warbler, one of many species of North American warblers that winter in the country. All of the "familiar" warblers down there are "eastern" warblers, I assume all of the "western" warblers winter further north. Of course, there's a number of awesome tropical species as well.

A female Violet-crowned Woodnymph, one of the cooler looking female-plumaged hummingbirds we saw. White, green, black, blue...a winning color combo. This one was a brainbird, all of us pretty much drew a blank when we first saw it.

Leafcutter ants are always busy. Yes, they created that dark path themselves...more like a freeway than a path I guess.

Sandy Thoughts, Key Westerly Shots

I am now the proud owner of a decent Black-and-white Warbler picture. As far as I know Black-and-whites are completely unique in their nuthatchish lifestyle, but I wonder if there isn't an obscure Central or South American warbler that has the same act. Zachary Taylor State Park, Key West, FL.

With both the birding and nonbirding media squarely focused on Hurricane Sandy and associated storms, we here at BB&B feel it must be addressed. First and foremost, I hope all you Northeasterners, birders and nonbirders alike, weathered the storm successfully. It sounds like the storm-waifing was quite good...quite a few birds that were shifted about due to the "Frankenstorm" would be life birds for me. But, of course, lifer-envy is tempered by the significant loss of life and the vast destruction loss and destruction of property that occurred in multiple states.

I really wonder how long our elected deniers of climate change (whom, in my opinion, may as well believe the earth is flat) can publicly continue to stay the course of ignorance. Yes, it is politically expedient in some places to either deny or ignore global warming (as Sir David Attenborough recently noted), but climate scientists are increasingly able to put the pieces together about why the United States seems to be rocked with more and more extreme weather....the obvious answer is, you guessed it, climate change. Scientific American has a great article up on climate change and hurricanes, and why the magnitude of the Sandy Frankenstorm can be directly linked to the loss of Arctic sea ice. I do not doubt that the United States and other nations will act significantly on climate change, but I am fearful of what habitat (for wildlife and humanity) will have been destroyed or seriously altered by the time this happens. Lastly, I will make the obvious point that if this is something you think is important, you should be screaming from the rooftops (perhaps in a flooded neighborhood, where this is the best means of communicating) that no one in their right mind should be voting for Mitt or any Republican candidate in the upcoming election...as Mitt bluntly put it for all of us in the first presidential debate, "I'm not in this race to slow the rise of oceans or heal the planet."

But I digress. Here is another moderate-sized glut of Key West pics. Bird onward.

Great Crested Flycatcher. This bird has the typical big flesh-colored patch at the base of the bill, unlike the bird Christian nailed (with his eyes) in Santa Cruz County (CA) earlier this fall. Indigenous Park, Key West, FL.

Short-tailed Hawks (year bird) were surprisingly not hard to come by. All but one of them that I saw were dark-morphed individuals, which for South Florida are pretty unique looking...they have a very different shape than the only other dark Buteo that is likely to be found in the state (Broad-winged Hawk). Key West Botanical Gardens, Stock Island, FL.

Great White Herons were easy to find in the keys...hard to believe this white thing is the same species as Great Blue Heron. I like the big rusty patch that adds some character to this shot. Key West, FL.

Note the bluish face and heavy bill, good ways to tell these apart from Great Egrets.

The pale legs also set these apart from Great Egrets, although as you can see this bird must not have read the field guides before it came out of the egg.

This monstrosity is a very old Green Iguana. Once they reach a certain age they cease looking like something that is real. Zachary Taylor State Park.

This thing was pretty wild. It looks like a party. Uberblogger Nate Swick informs me it is a Roseate Skimmer. Key West Botanical Gardens.

My only Rose-breasted Grosbeak (year bird) of the trip. This bird acted less like a grosbeak and more like a Connecticut Warbler...a true master of the Skulk & Lurk. Indigenous Park.

Northern Waterthrush is a common bird in the keys, but it can still take some effort to get a good look at one. Finding them is easy though...they are loud and have a distinct call, and have a penchant for taunting birders from the mangroves. Photographed at Indigenous Park.

I took several dozen pictures of this bird at a high ISO, and only came out with a handful of usable pictures. Besides being a denizen of the shadows, the constant tail-bobbing didn't make things any easier. You win this round, waterthrush.

Believe it or not, I have actually taken pictures of humanoids from time to time. This is Booby Brittany on vacay.

The Best Way To Deal

Least Bittern. By far the best looks I've ever had of one, and the only one I saw in 2011. Martinez, CA.

I am proud to announce that I have reached my goal of 550 bird species this year. While a paltry number to serious year listers, it involved only 5 states, 2 countries and one round-trip plane flight, and most importantly....not doing a big year. Pretty good for a casual big year/Ano Tranquilo, I reckon. I didn't think I would be able to make 550 happen, but a trip to California's Carrizo Plain got me a staggering 5 year birds, including embarrassing previous misses like Purple Finch and hard to find birds like Mountain Plovers...not to mention #550, a pair of LeConte's Thrashers frolicking around Soda Lake Road.

Red-shouldered Hawk. Not unusual by any means (to me), but I like the picture. Ventura, CA.

Besides my high number of species this year, what stood out was that about 110 species were life birds! That's almost a 1 to 5 ration, nerds. Of course, this is mostly because I got to seriously bird Mexico finally, but I got a number of new birds stateside as well...Baird's Sparrow, White-rumped Sandpiper, Hudsonian Godwit, Greater Sage Grouse, Sharp-tailed Grouse, Three-toed Woodpecker, Dusky Grouse and Falcated Duck were all lifers. Two of those were in California, my home state, which is pretty sweet.

Today I'll post some pictures that I have not gotten from this past spring, I'll get to the rest of the year hopefully sooner than later. My house, the beloved Sunset Space Station, is embroiled in a foreclosure fiasco with the soulless swine of the real estate industry...being homeless, of course, can complicate one's blog output. Thankfully, we are having a house party tonight, which is the best way to deal with such bullshit.

Happy New Year!

Allen's Hummingbird. Did someone say "facemelting"? Ventura, CA.

Aplomado Falcons are great. I got to see a number of them in Veracruz State, near the coast, where they are not uncommon, and don't wear the tainted jewelry that many of the Texas birds sport. This one was near Alvorado, Veracruz, Mexico.

Roadside Hawk. One of the many lifers I got this year. Chavarrillo, Veracruz, MEX.

Yellow-throated Euphonias can be quite common just a day's drive south of the border, but you probably won't ever see one in the states. Chavarrillo.

Long-billed Thrasher...or in this case, No-billed Thrasher. This is kind of a fuck-up picture, but I like it anyways. Chavarrillo.

Mississippi Kites! So many! Not to mention a Swallow-tailed Kite. Counting massive flocks of raptors was great fun. Chavarrillo.

A Band-backed Wren charges up a tree. Also a lifer. Chavarillo.

Short-tailed Hawks were one of the relatively few resident species we saw every day from the hawk-counting tower. It was a lot of fun watching them hover high over town, then stooping down into people's backyards to kill things. Chavarrillo.