WILD GOOSE CHASE

Despite what you might expect, a Big Year's not all jet-setting, gin and tonics, fine dining and glamor. There's actually a lot of standing around and waiting involved. And it's not like you can read a book while you're waiting. Or catch up on the latest Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me. But maybe it's made me a more calm and patient person? (Hmmm. No. I really don't think it has.) 

Today was a bit of a wild goose chase. No, wait, today was an *actual* wild goose chase! A Bean Goose chase. Or more of a Bean Goose wait. Nine hours of waiting for a bird that never turned up (there - I've given away the plot at the start!) I'm here with Chris Hitt, who's been birding CA and AZ recently, and who's making the wait more enjoyable. (Although an actual Bean Goose would have made it even more enjoyable.)

I'd flown home from California to Boston on Saturday after being away from home for almost a month. After Alaska and several pelagics in CA (including Bodega Bay - described below) I was ready for a long weekend of sleep, coffee, watching the Red Sox, sleep, enjoying what's left of the New England fall, sleep and spending time with Gerri and the cats. But mostly sleeping. But my R&R plans were ruined as soon as I landed and turned on my stupid phone: Bean Goose at the Salton Sea! That's a good bird. It's a goose - so could possibly stay all winter (one did back in 2010-11.) But I couldn't relax this weekend knowing it was out there. [Actually - there's also a Golden-crowned Warbler in Texas that gave me even less reason to let up and rest this weekend.) Reluctantly, I booked pretty much the next flight back out west.

And so, I'm back at the Salton Sea - which thankfully isn't as stupidly hot as it was back in the summer. (But "less than stupidly hot" is still hot!) There are lots of geese around. But apart from one Cackling Goose, they're all white - Snow Geese and Ross's Geese.

 Field of Geese (Snow and Ross's)

But despite the 9 hour vigil, the Bean Goose never appears. It wasn't seen yesterday either. It's probably in Mexico by now, knocking back Margaritas. 

Despite the disappointing goose no show, we did have time to see the now famous Blue-footed Boobies at nearby Obsidian Butte.

 Blue-footed Boobies (7 juveniles)

Part of the recent invasion of this species from Mexico.

Other highlights were American Bittern, Roadrunner (which apparently forgot how to make the "meep meep" call that of course all Roadrunners make) and the resident Barn Owl at the Sonny Bono visitor center. Oh - and lot's of honking Sandhill Cranes, newly arrived for the winter.

Sandhill Cranes - flying into the sunset

Last week, before the brief trip home, was also a bit of a wild goose chase - the goose was a Cackling Goose, and the chase a pelagic trip with Debi Shearwater out of Bodega Bay.

Cackling Goose - on the Cordell Bank, more than 25 miles out to sea.

Bodega Bay, in northern California, has more records of rare seabirds than any other US port - and so this was one trip I didn't want to miss. Jay Lehman joined me, as well as Brian Patteson and Kate Sutherland who run the pelagic trips out of Hatteras, North Carolina.

Despite the rarity history of this place, the Cackling Goose was the rarest bird we could pull out of the proverbial hat. (Debi thinks this is the first Cackling Goose she's ever had on a pelagic trip in over 30 years!) One nice surprise was a Brown Booby (adult) that flew over the boat several times,

 Brown Booby (adult) - my first for California.

as well as two Flesh-footed Shearwaters, and great looks at Short-tailed Shearwater on the water - a bird I've previously seen flying in the Bering Sea

Short-tailed Shearwater - previously called Slender-billed Shearwater

And another Laysan Albatross - a bird I've had on almost all of Debi's boats this year

Laysan Albatross. Individuals can be recognized by 

the unique black-and-white underwing patterns.

So new birds in Bodega, but still a fun trip.

After the Bean Goose chase today, I'm heading to Texas tomorrow for the Golden-crowned Warbler in the Rio Grande Valley. It's a very rare Mexican warbler (code 4)  that could well spend the winter here - but I'm not going to risk waiting any longer. Will I get the bird? Since I'm actually writing this post after getting back from Texas I could tell you know that I...Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me!

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BIG YEAR LIST: 724 + 2 provisional (Rufous-necked Wood-rail, Common Redstart)

NEW YEAR BIRDS (0): 

THE BOOBY PRIZE - #700

Blue-footed Booby is perhaps one of the oddest of birding experiences I've had this year. It took 4 forms of transportation today: taxi (to Norfolk, VA airport), plane (x3), rental car (3 hours) and finally a canoe (500 calories.)  It's definitely the only lifer I've had with a paddle - and the only canoe-assisted tick this year. Oh - and it's also #700 for my Big Year! Woo-hoo indeed!

A happy birder! This man has just seen his 700th bird for the year. 

(And he didn't fall in, despite all the excitement)

It's also a bird I thought last week would be my 700th. And it was - just a different bird, different state, and a later date. After the heartbreak of missing the New Mexico Blue-footed Booby (see here - it was taken into rehab while I was flying into Dallas) it was perhaps fitting that I'd get another chance to make this special bird my 700th. And also to be in AZ where my Big Year started. And like a lot of my Big Year, I was alone. The celebration was no less intense - although I had to ensure I didn't capsize the canoe!

Oh - before I forget, here's the bird:

Blue-footed Booby - Patagonia Lake, Arizona.

And here's the bird flying. Note the long white tail, and white patch on the back...

When Jan 1st turned this year, I had no idea I'd be doing this. I was scrambling to plan a quick birding trip to Arizona, but that was it. See the intro to my Big Year - inappropriately filed in May (!) What started off as a few successful trips morphed into a medium year, and then into a big year. An accidental big year. Even then, I was thinking 600 or maybe 650 would be a great achievement. To be at 700 in August, given the unplanned start is truly surprising - most especially to me. I've enjoyed every one of those birds. I've enjoyed the chases, the planning and the highs and the temporary lows. But most, I've enjoyed the connection I've made with other birders and the places it's taken me. Every bird and trip is a reminder of what a unique community birders are - ever willing to help a fellow birder. I'm sure it'll be these connections that stay with me. Last week was a painful one, and I'm grateful for all the support - offline and online I received.

So - what's next? After flying into Phoenix today, I'm on a flight out this evening to JFK for the Curlew Sandpiper - seen throughout the day today. A chance at getting back the bird I lost last week in MA.

So - back into chase mode. I'm in Gambell, Alaska the first week of Sept, and then a week of pelagics on the west coast.

But now, I'm trying not to look too far ahead - and just enjoying the Booby Prize!

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BIG YEAR LIST: 700 + 1 provisional

NEW YEAR BIRDS (1): Blue-footed Booby

BIRDING SLUMP

This has been a tough week - by far the toughest so far - and a reminder of the ephemeral nature of birding luck. Oh - and also how annoying it is to not be able to predict the future yet!

July already seems a distant memory - zipping from rarity to rarity. There never seemed any shortage of the latter, and somehow they all cooperatively managed to stick around long enough for me to see before heading off to the next. Not that it was easy - in the month of July I spent 24 nights away from home, and many of those sleeping in a plane, airport or car. But boy was it fun!

This week, though, the luck finally ran out. Poised at 699 I just couldn't get a break. I was continually dogged with the realization that I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It started back on Sunday night in San Diego, before my epic 56 hour southern California pelagic. 

I'd never used sea sickness medication in the past - and I've never been seasick. But I'd also never been at sea on a small boat in the Pacific Ocean for 3 days. So, just before heading to dinner, I stopped by the Sport Fishing store at Point Loma, where I'd be leaving at 6am the following morning.

The guys in the store were friendly, and chatty, and, after buying my Dramamine, I ended up talking about my how excited I was for the trip. 

"Which trip is that?"

"Oh - the 56 hour trip on board the Grande."

"The what?"

"You know, the birding pelagic."

"Wait - wasn't that cancelled? Yeah, like a month ago. The Grande's on a fishing trip now."

There was something surprisingly unsurprising about the news - as if I'd been waiting for this moment, knowing that it would suddenly strike and that reality would rudely awaken me from the highs of my recent success. In the next few minutes I discovered that, even though I'd called a week before and received an email confirmation, there'd been a mistake: there was no birding trip. There was to be no magic #700 celebration aboard the Grande, and my time and money getting here had been wasted. The Dramamine wouldn't cure this sick feeling and knowing that a recently-discovered Curlew Sandpiper was drawing appreciative crowds at Plum Island back home didn't help much either.

I knew I'd get a chance to use this pic again this year!

I now had a choice - to rebook my flight home and try for the Curlew Sandpiper, or head to New Mexico for the mega-rare Blue-footed Booby. My exhaustion and frustration got the better of me - I chose Boston and home. I figured that, though Blue-footed Boobies are rare, they do tend to stick around longer - certainly longer than a Curlew Sandpiper. I'd go to Boston first, then back to NM.

As I left San Diego, on the first flight back home, the Curlew Sandpiper had been seen at 6:30 that morning. When I landed late afternoon, it hadn't been relocated. Figuring it was tidal and morning's might be best, I went back the next morning (Tuesday) to find lots of shorebirds but no Curlew Sandpiper. Damn. The #700 celebration at home, with Gerri on Plum Island, was also not to be.

But there was still the Booby - which was being seen every day and was very approachable. It was on a tiny lake in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico. I booked a flight on Tuesday evening to Dallas. I'd arrive late at night, and then drive the 6 hours (!) and be there on Weds morning. As I left, there was an update saying the bird had been seen today. Blue-footed Booby for #700 would be pretty cool. Finally my luck was back!

When the plane landed at DFW, I turned my phone on - as I habitually do now to check on bird sightings - and was surprised to find another update on the Booby. Why would there be another update? I could feel the knot in my stomach grow as I read that the bird was emaciated (no fish in the lake for it to eat) and had been captured for rehabilitation. Shit. The bird was gone. I'd chosen the wrong date to come.

I walked off the plane, went to the nearest airline rep, and asked if I could get the next flight back to Boston. "Wait, didn't you just arrive?" I didn't feel like talking about the situation, and thought that a story about a Booby might not help either, so opted for a resigned nod. I was on the next, and last, flight back home - at 1:15am. A beer and a grilled cheese sandwich did little to cheer me up. Nor did the discovery that the flight was now delayed until 4:30am. I spent the night drifting in and out of "sleep" precariously perched on the now all-too-familiar airport seating with its cruel arm-rests.

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If I hadn't been in San Diego for the pelagic, I'd have been in Hatteras - trying again for White-tailed Tropicbird and Herald Petrel. I could try this weekend, but I had a field trip I was leading at Plum Island on Saturday. Thinking one day was better than nothing, I booked a flight to Norfolk, VA, on Saturday evening, for the Sunday boat - the last of the season out of Hatteras.

I arrived at Hatteras at 2am, with barely enough time to sleep before the 5:30 boat. I was tired but excited: the day before, Saturday, they'd got White-tailed Tropicbird and two Herald Petrels. (They also had Herald Petrel the weekend I was in San Diego.) But pelagic trips are notably fickle - no two days are the same. And Sunday was predictably nothing like Saturday: despite a good show of shearwaters, the shout for "Herald Petrel" never materialized. Nor for Tropicbird. If only I'd been on the boat the day before... Those are two birds I've definitely lost for the year now. 

So here I am, a week later, with no new birds to show, and a lot of near misses and frustration. It's reminded me that birding is like baseball - if you can get a hit 30% of the time, you're doing extremely well. Maybe it was the contrast with the previous weeks which were so unbelievably good, or just the physical and mental toil this past week has placed on me, but it's the first time this year that I've not had fun birding. And I have a feeling the second half of my Big Year is going to throw up similar challenges. If I can just get some decent sleep, I think I'll be ok.

Right now - I'm waiting for my third flight of the morning from out-of-the-way Norfolk to Phoenix. There's a second Blue-footed Booby this year at Patagonia Lake in south east Arizona. Hopefully a chance for Booby redemption.

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BIG YEAR LIST: 699 + 1 provisional

NEW YEAR BIRDS: 0