The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: How To Chase a Rarity

I've seen only three Yellow-throated Warblers in California. All were wonderful, and all found by other people. I used a nominal amount of wit, cunning and persistence to find them. But what is a nominal task for some birders is a seemingly insurmountable hardship for others. It doesn't have to be that way. Photographed at Ferry Park in San Francisco, CA.

According to the Human Birdwatcher Project (where "birders are people too!"), approximately 95% of birders will chase rarities at least occasionally, and 87% of birders will chase a bird at least once this year, be it near or far.

I am the 87%.

I chase a lot of birds, within a certain radius anyway. Always have, probably always will. I love seeing birds, don't care who found them. Sure, self-found birds are way better, but the idea of snobbishly avoiding going to see a rarity because someone else found it is absurd at best. If you are waiting to find your own Ivory Gull instead of looking for one someone else reported...good luck with that. I hope you have a long life ahead of you...you're gonna need it. The trick is not getting into the habit of doing nothing but chasing. But I digress, because this post is dedicated to chasing. More specifically, how to maximize your chances of success and comport yourself with some dignity.

Why write this post? For years, I never really believed that writing this post was necessary. Chasing a bird properly never seemed overly challenging, though of course there is never a guarantee that you will find what you seek. However, birders are a...special bunch. They need help sometimes. I've seen this at stakeout after stakeout, and it is time someone speaks up about the fact that, sadly, many birders are astonishingly bad at chasing birds.

Do you find that you dip and grip more often than you nail your target birds? Do you ever leave a chase feeling confused and embarrassed? The Human Birdwatcher Project is here to help. Let us cut to the chase...

I knew the approximate area where one could find the secret, not-so-secret Common Black-Hawk in Sonoma County, but once I got myself there I did not really know where to look. Mistakes were made. Luckily, some last minute texting got me pointed in the right direction, and all was well in the world. Photographed at a secret, not-so-secret location in Sonoma County, CA.

1) Get directions to get to the right place. This is fundamental, but if you don't have the fundamentals down then you don't have anything. Use Google Earth/Google Maps satellite imagery to pinpoint the exact spot and the correct access route prior to loading up your chasemobile. Know that when birders provide coordinates for a bird, even if that means nothing to you, you can just copy and paste them into Google Maps and that will display the location of where you need to get yourself. For example, I got my lifer Long-toed Stint at 52.371129°, 175.882463°. Plug that in and see where it takes you.

Read all the emails in the listservs, which typically provide better directions than eBird descriptions. It's usually pretty simple, and does not require you asking everyone in the listserv all over again about how to get to see the so and so when directions that could not be any clearer have already been posted for your convenience.

2) This is for you Geris out there...and with that said this is going to be ironic, but here goes: don't be ageist. I can't count the number of times my birding testimony at stakeouts has been doubted by other birders who don't know me, simply because I am unwithered and not wearing a Tilly hat. We "younger" birders don't assume old birders are untrustworthy, so why does anyone under 40 get viewed with suspicion by the ancients? This habit will not help you see your birds, ageist Geri birder.

You would think that any birder chasing a Falcated Duck, one of the most facemelting and unique waterfowl species in the world, would not need help identifying it. Sadly, you would be wrong. Photographed at Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

3) Study first. Again, this is fundamental stuff, but it bears repeating. What does the target bird look like? What does it sound like? Is it similar to other birds likely to be in the area? What are the clinching, diagnostic field marks? I've seen a great number of birders show up at a stakeout and require the bird to not only be found for them, but to be identified and interpreted to them as well. In short, they need their hand held. Hey, I like to hold hands too, but it's better to be prepared to identify a bird on your own.

4) Look at photos of the actual individual bird you are searching for prior to looking for it. While this was impossible 20 years ago with how long it took to process film and distribute the results (which in turn required a freaking projector if slides were involved), these days it couldn't be any easier. Check eBird, check listservs, etc. While not necessary for some birds, it can be extremely helpful for Vague Runts of many species.

One day, I looked for this Snow Bunting. I did not utilize all the available resources because I did not think finding the right spot would be difficult...I was wrong. Rookie mistake. Not only did I miss the bird, I never got to the right place. Luckily a couple days later I met Flycatcher Jen for the first time and she took me straight to it. Photographed at some parking lot by the Portland Airport, Portland, OR.

5) Utilize all available resources. Check multiple listservs, eBird, forums, rare bird alerts. The more information the better!

6) Birders are notoriously awkward and socially stunted. When at a stakeout, don't be afraid to talk to people to get details. Birders will sometimes be looking at the MEGA RARITY that you drove 3 hours to come see, and they won't bother telling anyone around them, knowing you are there for the same reason they are. Not chill. Talking to people at stakeouts can pay off in all manner of ways. Also, if a bird is not showing and birders are spreading out to track it down, it is wise to exchange phone numbers with someone else scouring the area.

7) Though I encourage birders to communicate, that comes with the caveat that most birders are not experts, and some are downright stringy. It takes practice to figure out the type of birder you are talking to when they are a total stranger. Are they legit? Inexperienced? Stringy? If someone says, "the split supercilium was surprisingly conspicuous from certain angles", they are probably more credible than someone who says "we knew it was different because it was feeding differently". So keep this in mind...when you roll up someplace and someone says, "oh, the bird was just here", that may not necessarily be true.

Unless you pray at the alter of your county list and nowhere else, you don't need to look for the unexpected Surf Scoter, Black Scoter, or White-winged Scoter that turns up. You must look for the Common Scoter. Crescent City Harbor, Crescent City, CA.

8) Sometimes, you just have to go. Veteran birders have a good sense of when they absolutely must drop everything and go for a bird immediately, beginners and intermediate birders don't. This is in part because they are acutely aware of the level of rarity any species has in their area, and to a lesser degree because they have a good grip on what species may be "naturally occurring". As the old saying goes, "look for the Barnacle Goose in January, not the one in July".

There isn't a birder out there who does not regret missing out on a certain chase, but it's better to have one chase regret (California's last Eastern Whip-poor-will immediately comes to mind for me) than ten. When in doubt, go for the bird!

9) Don't be afraid to look for the bird somewhere else besides where it was last seen if it's not showing up. This could simply mean looking a few hundred feet away, or a mile away. There is risk in this, but the reward can be great, and if you do refind the bird elsewhere you won't be standing in the middle of a crowd of birders, feverish with birdlust.

10) Time and tide are not to be ignored. Birds often settle into patterns quickly when they arrive someplace. Take note of the time of day when stakeout birds are being seen. If you are in a coastal area and are searching for a waterbird, tides often make a huge difference on the distribution of birds. I recommend getting an app for tides in your local area.

Cass and I waited an entire day for this Great Gray Owl to appear; many birders came and went, and a couple of them even made fun of me for Brambring. But, as anyone who has seen a Great Gray can attest to, the wait was well worth it. Since then, frankly, things have never been the same. Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, Humboldt County, CA.

11) Be patient/try again. This one is simple. Sometimes, it literally takes all day to find a bird. Don't be afraid to put in the work. It may also take 3 or 4 or more attempts to find the bird you are looking for. Birding can not only be hard, it can be pain, and you have to be willing to endure it.

12) If you have the time, don't forget to peruse other birds in the immediate area. The Patagonia Picnic Table Effect is real...ignore the other birds around at your own peril.Vague Runts beget Vague Runts.

13) Most importantly...don't string. I know this is hard for some people (I'm looking at you, notorious repeat stringers). If, for example, you string a stakeout bird and are the last person to report it, there is a good chance you are going to cause birders to drive out to look for the bird from god knows how far away. That's a dick move, isn't it? And when they see your facepalm-inducing photo or bullshit description on eBird, you aren't going to be winning any popularity contests (#birdingpariah). Most importantly, your birding victory is an empty accomplishment, false and hollow. And somewhere, deep down in your heart of hearts, you know it to be true. Can there be anything worse?

Unlikely.

There you have it birders...hopefully you learned something, or at least got a refresher. Forever and always, The Human Birdwatcher Project is here for you.

Your Mom Is Ship Assisted

It was recently brought to my attention that a very well-known birder asked (proclaimed) the following question: "Does anyone really still believe in "natural" trans-oceanic vagrancy?"  Yes...he seemed to be serious, but perhaps he was just making a point. However, birding is rife with poorly-conceived theories backed with little or no evidence, and I think it is best we tackle this idea head on...before it is too late. As the Global Birder Ranking System's #7 U.S. birder, I feel it is my duty to respond to these contentious allegations in the name of the Birding Good, not to mention Good Birding.

This birder was speaking, of course, about ship assisted birds. His point was that there are so many ships at sea at any given time, transiting between countries and continents, that this could be the explanation for how and why all Old World birds show up in the U.S. and Canada. So how could this public birding figure, say something so...how can I put this nicely....profoundly baseless? Devoid of logic? Wrong? It suggests a fundamental lack of understanding of what birds are capable of, and what they do. Keep in mind that he is not suggesting that some trans-oceanic vagrants are ship assisted, he is suggesting that all of them are. To be truthful, I've been wanting to do a ship assisted post for years, but this gaping breach of reasoning is finally making it happen.

Millions of songbirds, like this Eastern Wood-Pewee, travel many air miles over open ocean every year. These flights can be quite protracted, depending on weather conditions...a number of northeastern species are thought to migrate south from the eastern Atlantic seaboard straight to Caribbean islands and South America. When birds can cover vast distances over the ocean, that gives them ability to turn up far off course if something goes "wrong". Photographed at Dry Tortugas National Park, FL.

So, some quick background. There are a lot of ships in the ocean. They travel places. Migrating birds traveling overseas will occasionally land on them to rest. Sometimes they will only land for a few seconds, but some may ride a ship for days, and even longer. These birds are known as "ship assisted". This phenomenon really bothers some birders. They get the notion in their head that any "lost" bird that would have had to cross part of an ocean to get here must have arrived via ship, rather than under its own power. They then blather their bizarre and ridiculous conspiracy theories about ship assisted birds to anyone who will listen. Unless you buy into this (and thus perpetuate the horrible cycle), it's a major bummer to have to listen to or read about.

Let's get into this thing then. Birds land on ships, for sure. Birds have been known to ride to other continents on ships, disembark at their new home, and be located by birders. In some instances, it seems quite obvious what is going on...for example, all of Hawaii's Great-tailed Grackle records are thought to involve ship assisted birds, and I am completely on board (HA! HAHA!) with that theory.

Now lets look at the other side of the conspiracy coin...my apologies if this gets lengthy, but there is no shortage of evidence (not all of which I will even get into....I am only human) to dispute this bizarre claim. Remember, I'm simply dealing with this question: Does anyone really still believe in "natural" trans-oceanic vagrancy?

If a Black-throated Green Warbler leaves Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula for the Louisiana coast but encounters unfavorable weather, it may wind up making landfall hundreds of miles east or west from its intended destination. Weather conditions over the open ocean often dictate where overwater migrants end up, and is a plausible explanation behind the placement and timing of many (certainly not all) vagrant records. Photographed at South Padre Island, TX. 

- Birds can migrate staggering distances. Obviously. Ships/trains/planes are not necessary for birds to accomplish this, for vagrants or otherwise.

- Birds find themselves where we do not expect them to be, whether they are migrating over a forest, a desert, or an ocean. This is basic knowledge...I'm not going to use an example for this. Combine a bird's ability to cover vast distances during migration and the inevitable fact that some of them get misoriented or blown off course due to weather, and you end up with a recipe for all sorts of vagrancy. Again, this is really basic stuff.

- There are hundreds of bird species that cross stretches of ocean as part of annual migrations, often between two continents...and I'm not talking about seabirds. It is absolutely normal. How can one possibly reason that a bird that crosses nothing but land can be a "natural" vagrant (i.e. a Black-throated Blue Warbler in California), but a bird that has to fly over the ocean is automatically ship assisted? I suppose the hundreds of Red-throated Pipits that have showed up in California and Baja California must relish spending their autumn weeks in the excellent bird habitat and feeding grounds that are transiting cargo ships. If this is true, we should be birding offshore container ships, not wasting our time in places like Attu, St. Paul, or Gambell.

Falcated Duck with Cackling Geese. This duck has been wintering in California for a number of years now; it must somehow have all the North Pacific shipping routes memorized in order to come back to the same place year after year...right? Photographed at Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

- Countless islands were settled by trans-oceanic vagrants, before ships (and human beings) existed. Did the ancestors of the Galapagos finches and Hawaiian honeycreepers ride out there at the bottom of a Polynesian canoe? No. Birds getting "lost" over the ocean has been happening for eons, and there is absolutely no reason why that phenomenon would suddenly disappear across hundreds of species.

- Shorebirds, ducks, and many other species rarely, if ever, land on ships at sea. If you think that all the stints that show up in the U.S. every year only got here by hitching a ride on a container ship, then you have my pity. A vagrant flamingo, banded as a chick on Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula, is currently living on the Texas coast. Can you picture it spending a week on someone's yacht in the Caribbean in order to get there? If you can, I applaud your imagination.

The Common Rosefinch...is this a ruthless, ship-hopping pirate? Or merely a spring overshoot? Photographed on Buldir Island, AK.

- Think of the masses of Siberian/Russian/East Asian species found on Alaskan islands over the last few decades...now imagine that every single one of those birds spent a few days on a ship prior to making landfall. I know its hard, but just try. Are you doing it? No? Well, I can't either. In fact, it is impossible.

- Huge numbers of birds migrate over the ocean. Now we may think that a bird landing on a ship at sea is not a rare or unusual event, but think about it...considering the numbers of birds that overfly ships every day and night...if even half of those birds took a rest stop on a ship every time they had to make a flight over an ocean, ships would likely be completely coated in birds whenever they were anywhere near a flyway. Sure this happens in major fallout events, but in the big picture, only a tiny minority of birds flying over the ocean ever land on ships in the first place. This does not bode well for those enthralled by the notion that ship assists are the explanation for all ocean-jumping vagrants.

- Here in California, close to 100% of the birds that dredge up the ship-assisted conversation involve migratory species that breed/regularly occur in Russia and have previously occurred in Alaska (and other states/provinces) that could reasonably arrive here. This appears to be accomplished via a bad internal compass (which seems to be how many eastern North American species show up here), strong winds in the North Pacific out of the west, or some combination of both. The much-ballyhooed "pattern of occurrence" is readily visible. How come there are seemingly no birds riding into the port of Oakland or San Pedro (allegedly) from anywhere else?

A Little Bunting. Of course, no one can know exactly how this bird wound up where it did (although I guarantee it was interesting), but if you just assume it was a ship assist, you might as well assume the thousands of Aleutian Cackling Geese in the neighboring field were ship assists; they probably came about just as far as the bunting. In fact, you could go ahead and assume it rode on the back of a goose all the way from offshore Alaska, for the classic "goose assist". In this case, the goose assist and ship assist are equally provable...so why not? Photographed in Mckinleyville, CA.

- Ah yes, there is little more that the birder appreciates than a good pattern of occurrence...including sex. But I digress...if ships are just taking birds willy-nilly across oceans, why do so many trans-oceanic vagrants have such predictable patterns? With all the North American records of Fieldfares and Redwings, why are there no records of European Blackbird? European Robin? If ship assisted vagrants are indeed so rampant, I would expect a lot more fun and wacky birds from other continents being seen on our shores, with much murkier and confusing patterns of occurrence.

- The appearance of many vagrant birds in North America, particularly on the west and east coasts, frequently coincides with significant winds and storm systems over the North Pacific and the North Atlantic. Sure some folks are still trying to attribute rare birds to Hurricane Sandy (please stop), but you get my drift. Birds do not enjoy migrating in strong headwinds; in fact, if a bird meets too strong headwinds or other inclement weather over the open ocean, that could lead to their demise. Following tailwinds (or getting caught up in them) to the closest point of land might be a migrant's only chance for survival, even if it takes them to the wrong continent.

- All worries about Palinian logic aside, Russia and its birdlife really are close to North America. For example, the distance between Russia's Chukchi Peninsula and Alaska's Cape Prince of Wales is a whopping 51 miles...a bird traveling west to east, as bad of an idea as that may be for the bird, could do that crossing in 2 hours or less with a tailwind, and be well on their way to migrating down the wrong continent if they did not correct their course. Oh, and 2 hours of flight time is nothing for a medium or long distance migrant, vagrant or otherwise.

At the end of the day, I am fine with the idea that some of North America's Eurasian vagrants may have spent some time on a ship in order to get here. I absolutely accept that, and want to reiterate that here. Are all of them? I think you know what I think...no. No they are not, its just not a tenable theory.

So how can you possibly demonstrate that a particular individual was ship assisted? One can speculate, sure, but speculation is not evidence.  After all, what if the bird only spent 5 seconds aboard a ship? Or 5 minutes? Should that matter? What if it was 25 minutes? How would one know? Aren't these questions annoying? It's time we put them to rest.  For many species (not all), particularly those with a pattern of occurrence, it is not possible to know if a particular bird is ship assisted or not. Discussing the semantics of it will always be fruitless; what some would describe as an atavistic endeavor.  There are highly suspicious/obvious individual birds that are found where the ship assisted argument is certainly relevant, like with the previously-mentioned grackles or the legendary Snowy Sheathbill that managed to find itself in England...but not for every bird that may have seen an ocean at some point.  There is, of course, the whole discussion about whether we should even care about ship assists....most birds utilize human-altered or entirely manmade habitats, after all...but I will let you guys sort that out.

Tongue-Gnawing Rarity...A Falcated Duck Abides...This Cat Is Distracting...Colusa National Wildlife Refuge.

Why this strapping duck was called a teal at any point, I don't know. All photos today are from Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, CA.

"There was a fast and terrible speed to it that was almost biblical - like the Book of Revelation, where the rivers fill with blood and the seeds of the land turn to poison and men will gnaw their tongues for pain." - Hunter S. Thompson, in Generation of Swine.

This description summed up how I felt shortly after I learned of Colusa National Wildlife Refuge's Falcated Duck. After the initial giddiness of learning about the bird wore off, the terrible reality that I might not see it set in and I began to panic. Terrible flashbacks of The Ivory Gull Incident blazed through my mind. What began as joy turned into a nightmarish sludge of nail-biting anxiety and Doom. Before I knew what had happened, I had torn out large clumps of hair and had chewed my nails down to bloody nubs....

Which was all for nothing, as you all know, as I was able to see the bird back in December, the day after it was found. But it was just so damn far away that it just didn't feel right, weeks later, when I saw daily reports of the bird being right next to the road and offering itself up for decent quality photographs. So I did what I thought was best and headed back there earlier this month.

A Falcated Duck is a true crippler. Not only is it an exceptionally rare bird ("MEGA"), it's also extremely good looking, and sports a classy word in its name ("Falcated", obvi) that no nonbirders have even heard of and relatively few birders comprehend. The majority of the world's population spends the winter in China, Japan and the Koreas, so this bird is a long way from home. For once, the California birding community has not seriously entertained the few feeble and baseless claims that this was a captive-released individual.

The duck stands out among its peers. I'm really glad that it survived hunting season. Suck it, trophy hunters!

Falcation!!!! "Falcated" means "sickle-shaped", which is a reference to those fancy extra-long tertial feathers you see here.

This is probably my best shot of a Greater White-fronted Goose. I am now accepting glory and adulation from all.


I would venture to guess that Florida's Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge has been the most blogged about National Wildlife Refuge the past several months in the Birdosphere, due to a recent birding festival held nearby and it's proximity to various highly gifted bird photographers. For a change of pace, I figured I would give some more publicity to northern California's own Colusa National Wildlife Refuge. No, it doesn't have Roseate Spoonbills and Reddish Egrets, but it was the only place in the Lower 48 where someone could see a Falcated Duck this winter.

Colusa National Wildlife Refuge is located north of Sacramento, CA, just off Highway 5, so it's an easy detour for a birder travelling up or down the center of the state. It is definitely managed as a classic waterfowl refuge, but of course the huge wetland complex attracts all sorts of raptors and other marsh birds. I've only thoroughly birded there in winter, and I'm curious about what it draws in during migration.

Greater White-fronted Geese. The lead bird is an immature (note lack of black barring on the belly).

I don't have a lot of silhouette shots I really like, but I think this White-faced Ibis came out ok.

This Great Egret helped out the photograph by putting its neck in Question Mark Position. By the way, there is a cat licking the hell out of my right arm right now and it's making it difficult to concentrate.

Most people will tell you that Northern Pintails are their favorite dabbling duck. But most people have not seen a Falcated Duck.

Unsurprisingly, the only approachable American Bittern I have seen in years also happened to be in some of the worst light possible. Oh well, still a rad bird.

I'll get you next time bittern.....next time.

Gadwall, a strict adherent to the philosophy of Economy Of Style. 

Snow Geese abound!

You asked for it....The Bellowing Falcated. What did it sound like? A bizarre mix of Russian and Chinese...a very communist quack, I suppose.

Falcated Falcated Falcated

Greater White-fronted Geese at Colusa National Falcated Duck Refuge.

I am just now coming out of a sort of paralysis after seeing the male Falcated Duck at Colusa National Wildlife Refuge. Truly a stunning bird, even if viewed from so far away that I didn't even bother digiscoping it. Spotting scopes people...they are crucial. As far as I know, it wasn't seen yesterday, so I'm glad I went when I did.

Upon checking the internets after awakening, I have come to find that various mentally stunted birders are still running their mouths and making us all look bad. One birder, upon finding out about the inacessbile Red-flanked Bluetail on San Clemente Island, publicly complained that birds that he was not able to look for should not be reported. Thankfully, he has been ridiculed and condemned by just about everyone, and has now been sent to Birding Jail, a fate even worse than just being a regular birder.

American Pipit strutting. Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge.

Another argument that has always annoyed me is debating whether or not certain rare birds, like the duck, are of "natural origin". Granted, this is a valid question sometimes, but I think the issue is raised a bit too frequently. I have heard some absolutely stupid arguments by people claiming that certain vagrants have spent time in captivity*, and of course a couple people have already begun asking questions about the duck. Aside from being unbanded, having its hind toes (many captive ducks get theirs clipped off...ouch though), looking and acting very normal, and being someplace where hundreds of thousands of waterfowl concentrate, there is also the fact that there are zero recent records of free-flying Garganeys, Falcated Ducks, Baikal Teal, Smews, Tufted Ducks, Common Pochards, etc. in California that are thought to be from captive populations. None at all...well, that I know of. Anyways, that's something to think about before you start the atavistic argument of "natural origin".

Ross' Goose is a pretty popular rarity in the east. If you have not seen one, here are many. Rest assured there are no Snow Geese in this photo. Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge.

How do you like that nerd rant? Have a good Sunday everyone.

* = The absolute best claim I've heard was about a Gray Silky-Flycatcher that was in the mountains of Orange County years ago, which I was lucky enough to see. One birder said that it did not appear to move around a lot because it was used to the confines of a small cage. Reason #738,392 that birders are not scientists.