Watch It V

Early mornings at the pier are gorgeous. Mist blurs the horizon, the sky blends from pearly pink to slate blue overhead, and the dark ocean gently laps at the beach, frothing like whipped cream. The air is fresh, salty, and only the very slightest whiff of fish offal spoils it, depending on where you stand. But then, the sun rises, casting away all the illusions. The idyllic palm trees and buildings stand on what was formerly a gigantic coastal estuary teeming with life, long since raped and buried underneath roads, houses, malls, and other marks of humanity. The ocean is polluted, the air smoggy, and even the pier itself is heavily littered with cigarette butts, In-N-Out Burger wrappers, and partially decomposed sunflower seed shells. Ah well. Sometimes, reality hurts.



Enough complaining. This week's installment of seawatching was successful--not that it ever isn't--and I thoroughly enjoyed two hours of shearwaters, alcids, and terns before work. One of the most interesting aspects of my weekly visits is the variation in numbers of the common species. I've had mornings when I see at least a thousand more Elegant Terns. Why were there so few (relatively speaking) this week? I just don't know.



Newport Pier, Orange, US-CA
Jul 7, 2011 5:42 AM - 7:54 AM
Protocol: Stationary
Comments: Weather: mostly clear (rather misty, especially early on), light breeze (SW), warm (~68°F). Seawatching before work. A few decent things. Once again, it was nice to actually have the sun out on the birds, though lighting wasn't great on birds that were south of the pier.
23 species

Pacific Loon (Gavia pacifica) 1 This one was unexpected--a bird in basic-type plumage hauling "north" low over the water. Presumably a locally summering bird.
Sooty Shearwater (Puffinus griseus) 330
Brandt's Cormorant (Phalacrocorax penicillatus) 5
Double-crested Cormorant (Phalacrocorax auritus) 3
Brown Pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis) 55
Willet (Tringa semipalmata) 3
Whimbrel (Numenius phaeopus) 1
Marbled Godwit (Limosa fedoa) 2
Heermann's Gull (Larus heermanni) 110 Numbers continue to grow--including many birds heading north offshore. Also, had my first juveniles of the year.
Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) 400
Least Tern (Sternula antillarum) 22
Caspian Tern (Hydroprogne caspia) 16
Forster's Tern (Sterna forsteri) 8
Elegant Tern (Thalasseus elegans) 150 Much fewer than recently. Several weeks ago, I had at least a thousand more in a similar span of time at the same time of day. Hmm, why? Weather conditions? Or maybe stage in breeding cycle of the birds at Bolsa Chica? Shift in food distribution?
Xantus's Murrelet (Synthliboramphus hypoleucus) 2 A prize--a pair, not that far out, going "north." Obviously small and cleanly black and white.
Cassin's Auklet (Ptychoramphus aleuticus) 5 A small flock buzzing north well offshore.
Rock Pigeon (Columba livia) 32
Mourning Dove (Zenaida macroura) 4 A little fly-by group at the base of the pier as I was heading out...first time I've had them here. Whoopie!
American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) 15
Barn Swallow (Hirundo rustica) 2
European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) 1
House Finch (Carpodacus mexicanus) 1
House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) 2

Two, Four, Six, Eight, Try To Estimate!

“How many [Ruby-crowned] kinglets?” I asked, notebook in hand, pen poised to record the official tally.

“At least a couple dozen…maybe twenty-six?” responded my girlfriend Alison, behind the wheel as we pulled away from Floral Lane, an alleged hotspot that I have thus far found to be positively underwhelming.

“Don’t be ludicrous,” I scolded. “Fourteen.”

Alison sighed.

“Come on. They were ALL over the place. I saw six in one bush.”

Seeing the validity of both statements, I conceded. “All right, fine. Sixteen.”

Both of us are notoriously strong-willed people. The debate nearly dissolved into blows, but eventually we peacefully agreed that we had, indeed, seen sixteen Ruby-crowned Kinglets on our walk. He who wields the pen holds power.

It’s a time-honored tradition of mine. Go birding, have a good time. Then, afterwards, estimate the numbers of birds you saw and punch them into eBird. How representational are these estimates—often little more than wild guesses—of the true number of birds present? Some situations offer challenges, like…

A cloud of swallows swirling back and forth over a field…thousands upon thousands of gulls blanketing the center dike at Muskegon Wastewater…a chorus of unseen Wrentits trilling from hill cloaked in chaparral…ubiquitous Black Phoebes, one standing guard over seemingly every trash can in the neighborhood.

An even greater challenge faces birders entering eBird checklists from memory: whether a species was even present or not. Did I hear any Song Sparrows on my evening walk around the evening? Well, surely I did—must have just forgotten to write it down on my little pad. How many? Well, I don’t know, but usually there seem to be about three singing males in the neighborhood, so I’ll put down three. Yeah, three, I remember them all now…

I’ve become halfway diligent at jotting down all the species I detect in a pocket notebook that I feel naked without. Recording numbers, however, is another story. Leaving the estimations to the end frequently leads to intense personal frustration (when I bird with myself) or verbal, possibly even physical conflict (when I bird with others). In addition to these negative side effects of estimation, is it even accurate? I decided to test the accuracy of my estimation on a recent evening ramble to Irvine Regional Park by carefully tallying numbers of several species.

The first thing I noticed: Black Phoebes are freaking everywhere. I encountered eleven in less than a mile of walking. On my previous four visits of comparable effort, I estimated three, six, one, and seven birds, respectively. Second observation: Cliff Swallows are impossible to count, screw this. Third observation: Mourning Doves, that’s better. Fly in a straight line, one or two at a time. I can handle this. I ended up with seventeen, compared with forty, twenty-six, eighteen, and thirty-eight on previous visits. Fourth observation: Shoot, eight-thirty, almost my bedtime...better head back.

These two case studies might suggest that my estimation powers are reasonably accurate. I do not, however, flatter myself to be convinced so easily. Oftentimes, when confronted with a species scrawled on my notepad, I am completely at loss as to how many I saw. This challenge is two-pronged. It involves memory, sometimes over hours, and it also requires synthesizing a total of birds seen over a period of time—when out birding, you see those Yellow-rumped Warblers a few at a time, not all at once. Out of curiosity, I googled “estimation games” and blew an enjoyable few minutes testing myself (http://tinyurl.com/3re74py). Embarrassingly, I nearly scored negatively on the “Count 50-99” level, but then I promptly dominated the “Count 20-50” level. It seems that I am forever doomed to be ignorant of my level of estimation skill…

One of my goals for the remainder of the summer is to be more aggressive in keeping track of bird numbers while birding and not saving the estimation for the end. It requires considerable time and diligence, both of which I seem to perpetually lack. But who knows? Perhaps, by the end of the summer, my eBird account will be spewing forth data that are slightly more accurate.

Watch It IV--The Fish Apocalypse

"I know that human beings and fish can coexist peacefully."

This prophecy, uttered by none other than George W. Bush, has not yet come to pass. Our coastlines are still ravaged with war. This morning, a barrage of mackerel staged an assault on Newport Pier, where bold defenders of the human legacy valiantly attempted to quell the surge with their rods, lines, and hooks. I just watched.

A dozen frantic tails vibrated against the ruthless cement, sending delightful showers skyward. The sun sparkled some, but others remained dark, opaque, and red. Gradually, the symphony of tails experienced a diminuendo, and the accompanying showers weakened to a faint mist, then to nothing. Nothing, except eyes--eyes, wide, unblinking, desperate. Some were stained with red; all were hopeless. As the scores of bodies were dumped into five-gallon buckets, some jerked back to brief life, only to be again overtaken by death. One mackerel, lying on its side on a bed of his fallen comrades, gaped his mouth open and shut, surely reciting "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" in his silent fish language.

During lulls in the battle, when the danger of being snagged with a hook or splashed with blood or entrails abated, I turned my eyes to the mist-shrouded horizon, waiting for the emergence of some pelagic oddity. Pigeon Guillemots, apparently reveling in their continued delinquency, escaped my grasp once again. But, time is on my side. I have the remainder of the summer to resolve this feud.

Newport Pier, Orange, US-CA
Jul 1, 2011 5:38 AM - 8:30 AM
Protocol: Stationary
Comments: Weather: clear, very light breeze (SSW), warm (64-73°F) Morning seawatch--kinda weird to be out seawatching on a sunny morning, which made viewing condition a lot different than usual (e.g., SOSH looked brown, not nondescript black, and the silver blazes on their underwings were really obvious.) Way more fishermen than usual, too, which made viewing a bit difficult. They were also catching a lot more fish than they usually do.
19 species (+2 other taxa)

Pink-footed Shearwater (Puffinus creatopus) 1 Only one, a distant bird fairly early on. Despite the distance, the morning sun made the pink bill readily visible, and the pale belly and underwings were surprisingly obvious.
Sooty Shearwater (Puffinus griseus) 215 Fewer than normal, though still numerous. There was one bird sitting on the water fairly close to shore most of the morning, and oddly it had symmetrical white patches on the wings, presumably from bleaching/molt. Got me excited for PIGU for the first couple seconds, but it obviously wasn't...
shearwater sp. (Calonectris/Puffinus sp.) 1 Sooo...I think this was probably the bird of the morning, and I don't know what it was. I got on a pretty distant shearwater hauling south(ish). What was surprising about this bird was that it was very clean dark and light--very pale below, with white underwings. Obviously, it wasn't a Sooty. Most likely, it was just a Pink-foot gleaming in the sunlight--the definite Pink-foot I had earlier surprised me with its contrast, but it seemed more strong on this bird, and I didn't see the pink bill, either. Huuuh.
Black Storm-Petrel (Oceanodroma melania) 18
Brandt's Cormorant (Phalacrocorax penicillatus) 4
Brown Pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis) 88
Long-billed Curlew (Numenius americanus) 2 Two flying "north," low over the water--they rounded the end of the pier.
Marbled Godwit (Limosa fedoa) 1 On the beach.
shorebird sp. (Charadriiformes sp.) 8 A distant flock of small shorebirds going south...I think they miiight have been Semi Plovers, but yeah...beyond my ability.
Heermann's Gull (Larus heermanni) 75
Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) 280
Least Tern (Sternula antillarum) 85
Caspian Tern (Hydroprogne caspia) 10
Forster's Tern (Sterna forsteri) 15
Royal Tern (Thalasseus maximus) 2
Elegant Tern (Thalasseus elegans) 500
Rock Pigeon (Columba livia) 55
Barn Swallow (Hirundo rustica) 4
European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) 5
House Finch (Carpodacus mexicanus) 5
House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) 10

Watch It III

poach/poʊtʃ/
verb
1. to trespass, especially on another's game preserve, in order to steal animals or to hunt.
2. to take game or fish illegally.
3. (of land) to become broken up or slushy by being trampled.
4. to cook (eggs, fish, fruits, etc.) in a hot liquid that is kept just below the boiling point.

My coveted Pigeon Guillemots have been poached! (And no, they weren't cooked for breakfast).

When I read the news that someone had spotted two Pigeon Guillemots at Newport Pier early last week, I flew into a rage and swore to duplicate the sighting during my weekly vigil on Friday morning. Arriving at the pier at a time when a vast percentage of the county was still probably asleep, I sauntered down the pier, cast a haughtly glare upon the gaggle of fishermen hogging the rail, and began scanning the swells. Shortly thereafter, a kindly hobo approached, a kleenex dangling from an outstretched hand. "Your nose is dripping," he chuckled.

Thanks. A drippy nose, no Pigeon Guillemots, and eight hours of work ahead of me. Life is a beast.

Newport Pier, Orange, US-CA
Jun 24, 2011 5:46 AM - 7:53 AM
Protocol: Stationary
Comments: Weather: cloudy and misty, light breeze (~7mph, SW), cool (~63°F)
22 species (+1 other taxa)

Pink-footed Shearwater (Puffinus creatopus) 2
Sooty Shearwater (Puffinus griseus) 240
Black Storm-Petrel (Oceanodroma melania) 7
Brandt's Cormorant (Phalacrocorax penicillatus) 1 The only one I saw was one accidentally snagged by a fisherman. I heard a commotion, looked up, and saw a guy reeling it in on his rod. He got it onto the pier, where it was remarkably calm. Then, one guy held its bill, and the other unhooked it (it appeared to be hooked in the leg). Then, the guy picked it up and chucked it as hard as he could off the pier. It took off flying
Double-crested Cormorant (Phalacrocorax auritus) 2
cormorant sp. (Phalacrocorax sp.) 1
Brown Pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis) 48
Marbled Godwit (Limosa fedoa) 8
Heermann's Gull (Larus heermanni) 65
Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) 580
Least Tern (Sternula antillarum) 60 At the time I arrived, large numbers of terns were foraging their way south. By the time I was leaving, many were heading back north, and lots of the LETE had fish in tow.
Caspian Tern (Hydroprogne caspia) 4
Forster's Tern (Sterna forsteri) 32
Royal Tern (Thalasseus maximus) 24
Elegant Tern (Thalasseus elegans) 1000
Black Skimmer (Rynchops niger) 2 A pair flying south over the beach as I was leaving.
Cassin's Auklet (Ptychoramphus aleuticus) 11 Several small parties, all distant, and all going "north."
Rock Pigeon (Columba livia) 32
American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) 2
Barn Swallow (Hirundo rustica) 5
European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) 2
House Finch (Carpodacus mexicanus) 1
House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) 3

Narcissism

Humans aren't the only ones that struggle with it...

Lesser Mountains

As I complete my monotonous tasks in the air-conditioned comfort of the Color Lab throughout the week, I wistfully remember last summer and the excessive time I spent in various mountain ranges. Hikes were had, scrambles up rocky slopes were not uncommon, and plunges into icy mountain streams and lakes provided welcome diversions from birding. I decided that I would have to get into some mountains this weekend, even if they were just the lowly Santa Ana Mountains. I was decidedly unenthusiastic about this decision when I arose at four-thirty this morning, but I dragged myself to the Trabuco Canyon Trail and began hiking before six. After six hours and thirteen miles, I had seen a nice selection of montane birds, including Mountain Quail, Olive-sided Flycathcer, Hairy Woodpecker, Black-throated Gray Warbler, and this Western Wood-Pewee.



The primary motive fueling this hike, however, was not birds--it was other forms of life. These other forms of life--especially butterflies--abounded, much to my joy.


Spring Azure (Celastrina ladon)


Acmon Blue (Plebejus acmon)


Tailed Copper (Lycaena arota)


Dotted Blue (Euphilotes enoptes)


Juniper Hairstreak (Callophrys gryneus)


Gabb's Checkerspot (Chlosyne gabbii)


Leanira Checkerspot (Thessalia leanira)


Red Rock Skimmer (Paltothemis lineatipes)


Gopher Snake (Pituophis catenifer)

Watch It II

Shaking my wrist to glance at my watch, I was heartbroken to see that I had only five minutes left of seawatching before I had to leave for work. I sighed and reminisced about last summer, when I embarked on road trip after road trip, carefree, birding at will...

Seawatching has been predictable of late--the same suite of species, over and over. But, I don't see Sooty Shearwaters every day, and weekly vigils give me the opportunity to familiarize myself with the regular species. Plus, recently, there have been sporadic sightings of Pigeon Guillemots off San Diego County. With luck, I will duplicate those. Or, a Brown Booby. I'd take one of those, too.

Keeping watching...and wishing...

Newport Pier, Orange, US-CA
Jun 17, 2011 5:54 AM - 7:55 AM
Protocol: Stationary
Comments: Pre-work seawatch at Newport Pier. Nothing outrageous--and nothing different from the previous few weeks--but lots of action, including several dolphin/sea lion/pelican/gull/tern feeding frenzies occurring offshore. Numbers of several species (e.g., BRPE, HEEG) w8ere considerably higher than previous visits. Weather: cloudy, breezy (8 mph, SSW), cool (63°F). Visibility decent, with Catalina clearly visible.
20 species

Pacific Loon (Gavia pacifica) 2 Two separate birds, both in basic-type plumage, both flying "north" low over the water. Getting a tad late, aren't we?
Western Grebe (Aechmophorus occidentalis) 2 A pair on the water a short distance north of the pier.
Sooty Shearwater (Puffinus griseus) 200 A decent stream of birds well offshore, though slightly fewer birds than previous watches. A few birds came in very close, including two that joined a dolphin feeding frenzy just a couple hundred feet off the end of the pier--sweeeet looks!
Black Storm-Petrel (Oceanodroma melania) 4 A handful waaaay out, at or beyond Lehman distance.
Brandt's Cormorant (Phalacrocorax penicillatus) 9
Double-crested Cormorant (Phalacrocorax auritus) 1
Brown Pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis) 450
Marbled Godwit (Limosa fedoa) 2
Heermann's Gull (Larus heermanni) 52
Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) 500
Least Tern (Sternula antillarum) 4
Caspian Tern (Hydroprogne caspia) 6
Forster's Tern (Sterna forsteri) 80
Elegant Tern (Thalasseus elegans) 1400
Rock Pigeon (Columba livia) 31
American Crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) 15
Barn Swallow (Hirundo rustica) 2
European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) 3
House Finch (Carpodacus mexicanus) 2
House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) 1