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.

The Fall of the Bird Police: Death by EBird?

The Crescent City Common Scoter, a jaw-dropping rarity and first North American record. Do I have it an eBird checklist?  Yes.  Did I send a report to the Bird Police?  No.  Are these things connected?  Read on.

Earlier this month, frequent Bird Policeman for the California Bird Records Committee (CBRC) and beloved birding legend Kimball Garrett wrote the following email to the local L.A. listserv:

L. A. Birders, 

In corresponding with CBRC Secretary Tom Benson, I learned that he has received documentation for the Thick-billed Kingbird in Horsethief Canyon Park in San Dimas this past winter ONLY from a single observer on 22 November 2014. Yet eBird records indicate that the bird was found on 15 November and seen by dozens to at least 3 January 2015. Many eBird submissions during that period were accompanied by photographs and/or descriptions. 

Similarly, the Worm-eating Warbler at The Village Green, seen by approximately 23,687 people, was documented for the CBRC by only three submitters. Yet there were about 125 eBird entries, many with good photos and other documentation. 

This is (yet) another plea for observers to submit documentation for CBRC review species to the committee for review, even if you know that many other observers also saw the bird. First, you might be surprised by how little documentation the CBRC receives even for long-staying mega-rarities. Second, your added documentation can provide crucial information about changes in appearance (e.g. through molt) and behavior of rarities, and can provided important information on phenology by helping to pin down the date spans over which they are present. Finally, and most importantly, the CBRC maintains a thorough and permanent archive of rare bird records for California, and your submissions become part of that archive. Photos on photo-sharing sites (such as Flickr) that are linked to eBird submissions may not be there in a decade, or a year, or even next week. 

Yes, the eBird folks are working on a more permanent way of archiving documentation photos, video and audio, and the ways in which records committees, North American Birds editors, and eBird users interact will clearly evolve over time. But at present the laudable emphasis in the birding community on eBird has unfortunately translated to a vast reduction in direct submissions to the CBRC. 

Well...what do you think?  Kimball is certainly not condemning eBird in any way, but is eBird really behind the drop in record submissions to California's Bird Police?  Is there a direct correlation between the rise in eBird use and the decline of reporting to the Bird Police?  Being the nation's #7 birder, as ranked by the Global Birder Ranking System, this issue is of great interest to me.  Some thoughts:

- While eBird is not a permanent place for documenting bird records, it is ostensibly pretty close. EBird is not going anywhere anytime soon.  If you put something in eBird, it is going to stay there for as long eBird is around, which will probably be for a very long time.  That said, like any website, it is vulnerable to hacking.  Can you imagine what would happen if a disgruntled birder (and there are a lot of those) acquired some hacking skills? Or, much more likely, if Flickr got hacked?  Yeesh. Observers can delete their checklists at any time. Photographers can delete their photos at any time. We must give the Bird Police some attention.  But am I ever going to be deleting/hiding my eBird records and my photos?  Nope.

San Francisco's long-staying Rustic Bunting was seen by hordes of birders, I suspect well over 1,000.  I wondered how many folks submitted documentation to the CBRC, so I checked.  The answer is ten (10).  I wonder how many birders even thought about submitting documentation to the CBRC...  

- An eBird reviewer may make the incorrect decision of negating an observation of a very rare bird; eBird reviewers, after all, often do not have the credentials of your average Bird Police Officer and they are only one birder.  Conversely, there is no doubt that misidentified rarities slip through the cracks and make their way into eBird.  When an eBird reviewer thinks they personally have found a rarity, you can be sure that they will get it into eBird, whether it was correctly identified or not.  All birders are fallible. Princess Leia's classic line comes to mind: "I am not a committee!".

- A huge proportion of the birding community do not care about submitting documentation to the Bird Police, regardless of experience, age and skill.  There are a multitude of reasons for this, and it has nothing to do with eBird.  I'm not dissing the Bird Police here, just stating fact.

- I've been birding for over 20 years now, and I am comfortable saying that there are more birders now than ever before...which means there are more new birders than ever before.  Shouldn't that automatically translate to more love for the Bird Police?  Well, no.  Newer birders generally do not concern themselves with submitting records to the Bird Police.  They often lack the skills and the confidence to submit records, and it probably does not seem like a high priority for them if they are still struggling finding and seeing comparatively common birds.  And if they associate with other birders who don't submit documentation either, then they won't be doing it any time soon; it's just not in their culture, so to speak.

This is one of two (2) Rusty Blackbirds I have ever seen, both of which fall under the jurisdiction of the CBRC.  I've yet to see one where they actually belong, though I have a chance next month!  Photographed in Santa Cruz County, CA.

- One thing that eBird is great for, in terms of rarities, is documenting exactly how long a rarity is being seen at a particular site.  The Bird Police, as far as I know, has no good mechanism for this; they just hope birders will keep on submitting records for an (usually) already well-documented bird. I suspect it is a common situation in which a records committee will receive a small number of records of an individual Vague Runt that may actually be seen over a span of weeks or months.  Do the Bird Police completely ignore the data that is readily available on eBird about the dates the bird was really being seen for?  I suspect it depends on which department (er, state) we are talking about.

- I will readily admit that I was one of those birders who eBirded the Thick-billed Kingbird mentioned above, but did not send a record to the Bird Police.  For posterity, here is my description: "Heard only by Dan Maxwell and myself.  Originally heard from a great distance in the housing tract west of the park making short, 2 or 3 note calls that I was not familiar with that sounded similar to a Cassin's Kingbird. Eventually the bird came considerably closer, and once clearly and loudly uttered a single series of distinct and varied calls that Western (extremely unlikely to be present here during this season), Tropical and Cassin's Kingbirds are incapable of making; Thick-billed Kingbird has much more variability (and sometimes, melody?) in their vocalizations than any of these species, which we clearly could discern.  Identification was confirmed by checking recorded vocalizations on site. We lingered in the area but we never heard the bird again."

That's it.  That's all I've got.  I would never in a million years send this to the Bird Police had I not known that a Thick-billed Kingbird was present on site, and I feel that follow-up reports should bear the depth worthy of accepting the record as if it were a first-time sighting...or at least have a decent photo/recording of the bird.  I am 100% sure we heard the Thick-billed Kingbird, but let's face it, my description sucks!  Would it really get accepted? Does it belong in the annals of Bird Police History? I think that when you yourself would strongly consider rejecting your own record (and I am #7!), that is a valid reason for not offering your observation to the Bird Police.

- I think there is a very strong case for claiming that birders will use eBird instead of notifying birders of notable species via listserv or RBA or North American Birds, you won't get any argument from me there.  I'm guilty of that myself, though I don't consider myself a chronic offender.

- Birders are generally unaware that when hundreds or thousands of people see a review bird, almost no one is submitting documentation to the Bird Police.  Kimball was right to bring this up; it is not a widely-known fact.  Even some Bird Police will neglect to submit documentation of committee birds that someone else found, and they know full well about this problem.

This is the famous Monterey Arctic Loon, which wintered near the Municipal Wharf and was relatively easy to see, unlike the other members of its species I've seen in the Aleutian Islands. Querying the CBRC database, I found out that the first Arctic Loon I chased (unsuccessfully) years ago ended up being rejected by the committee...good to know, and I'm glad that information is available online.  Bird Police departments everywhere should do their best to maintain an active online presence; I think it's good for all of us.

So the real question is this: how often do birders submit their sightings to eBird as a direct substitute for submitting documentation to the Bird Police?  Despite appearances, I believe this happens relatively rarely. When I enter a record of a committee bird into eBird, that does not mean that I would have sent the CBRC documentation had I not been an eBird user, and I think that the same applies for thousands of other birders.  I do not make the conscious decision to submit a photo or description of a review to bird an eBird checklist as a direct substitute for sending it to the Bird Police. Personally speaking, when I don't submit documentation of a review species, but know that I should, it's almost always because I know that other Bird Police officers have seen the bird. Part of their sworn duties as Bird Police are to submit documentation of review species they see, amirite?  As Kimball said, I suppose one should never assume that a rarity is being packaged up, sealed, and sent to the Bird Police's evidence room for safe keeping.  All birders, even the Bird Police, are fallible, and all but the most demented of us have tendencies of laziness.

EBird has brought countless rarities and birds of interest to the public sphere that likely would never have seen the light of day otherwise.  As others have pointed out, there are a lot of birders who utilize eBird who do not contribute to listservs or RBAs at all, let alone bend the knee to the Bird Police.  By now, many thousands of birders owe something to eBird, whether they are active users or not.  The Bird Police are going to have to start incorporating eBird data sooner or later; it is truly the elephant in the Bird Police Station. Exactly how this unfolds will be fun to watch.

Thank you for all your hard work officers, for keeping us safe from the stringers and the sketchy birders.  And thank you, eBird, for being god's gift to birders...you seem to be winning the popularity contest.  If you are one of those people who do pledge allegiance to the Bird Police, at least once in a while, we would like to hear your take on all of this, and obviously if you are a Sworn Officer of the Birding Law, we need to hear from you.  Despite appearances, your birders need you...now, more than ever.

All Aboard The Scote Train

This is a scote train.  One of the passengers is not like the others, and it's not the Western Gull...

Every now and then, news goes around of a bird so rare that you are just completely blindsided. It is not a bird on your radar...you don't even think of seeing this bird because your brain is busy pining away for more realistic birds that you also haven't seen.  You just aren't expecting to ever see that bird...you just aren't prepared.  And let me tell you, as the #7 birder in the United States, I am prepared for a lot of different birds that I have not seen.  I am prepared for a Swallow-tailed Gull.  I am prepared for a Wandering Albatross.  I am prepared for a Sinaloa Wren.  Do you see?  There has been much preparation on my part to be ready for the mental blow these birds would inevitably cause.  Just hearing about a legit sighting would trigger a cavalcade of birding emotions...shock, jealousy, envy, intense desire, and wanton birdlust.  So while I can't even tell you what a Pycroft's Petrel looks like, I can say with 100% certainty that if someone called one out on a pelagic trip, people better get the hell out of my way.  I am prepared for that.

What I wasn't prepared for was a scoter.

I wasn't the only one.  California birders were so unprepared for this creature that several folks didn't even know it was a species.

"Common Scoter you say?  Cool subspecies bro.", was the collective dismissal of a multitude of birders.

It was only in 2010 when the AOU deemed the Common Scoter it's own species, severing it from the Black Scoter we all know and love.  However, since no one had ever documented one in North America before, this split received little fanfare from ABA birders.  When one did show up, people just weren't ready.  Even the AOU wasn't ready...the current edition of their checklist lumps them with Black Scoter!  How embarrassing.

Still reeling from my failure with BRAMBRING, I was loathe to just get back in the car for another chase up the coast.  Crescent City is a long ways from Oakland, over 6 hours, but I knew I couldn't let this MEGA of all MEGAs just pass me by.  What choice did I have?  As luck would have it, the bird had stayed put in the exact same place ever since being found, which made the decision that much easier.  All aboard the scote train!

I think you have figured out by now that this is not another sob dip story, this is a story of Great Success.  People were already on the bird by the time we arrived, and after a bit of waiting the choice scoter abandoned the open water outside the boat basin and recklessly steamed in to shore, right to where we were standing.  The bird could care less about the very moist, very stoked group of nerds observing it from a stone's throw away; in fact there were many times the scoters were so busy diving we couldn't even find the Common Scoter, although it was obviously somewhere right in front of us.

So where did the Common Scoter come from?  The closest known place they occur regularly is Iceland.  Going the other way around the world, the next closest place is central Russia.  Although further away, a bird migrating east through Siberia and down the west coast of North America seems like the most straightforward route.  But that said, how did California's Northern Gannet (which is still here) arrive?  How do Tufted Puffins get to Maine?  Obviously a determined, and severely misoriented bird (or perhaps one that does not give a fuck) is certainly capable of weaving their way through the convoluted maze of islands in the high Canadian Arctic to emerge on the other side.

The rarity of this bird is staggering, and I had no idea the bird was going to end up being so confiding.  No scoter will ever be as savory...things will never be the same.

As with every bird that has "common" in it's name, I find this bird's official title to be cringe-worthy. It's a lazy, uninspiring, unimaginative, pedestrian way to refer to an entire species that I can now say I enjoy looking at.  I don't care if the AOU was trying to be consistent with the Euros...they seem fine with different names for loons, jaegers, etc.  Even something as basic as "European Scoter" would be better. What if every abundant, widespread species was named in this manner?  The U.S. would have Common Vulture instead of Turkey Vulture, Common Hawk instead of Red-tailed Hawk, Common Kestrel instead of American Kestrel, Common Hummingbird instead of Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Common Dove instead of Mourning Dove, Common Wren instead of House Wren, Common Kinglet instead of Ruby-crowned Kinglet, Common Warbler instead of Yellow Warbler, Common Sparrow instead of Song Sparrow...you get the picture. Doesn't that sound bleak? Wouldn't that suck?  I would like to put an end to so-called "common" birds once and for all...that probably wont happen, but at the very least we shouldn't be making new ones.

A shot of the scote train coming into shore to feed, conveniently as close to us as they possibly could. My love of scoters is particularly strong these days.

Samantha and Natalie steel themselves against the coming onslaught of scote train.  As of this writing, the (un)Common Scoter has not been seen for two days.  Considering that every single person who has looked for the (un)Common Scoter up until Friday afternoon has seen it, this might mean the bird is gone for good.  The scote train may have come to an end, and I consider myself lucky to have been on board for the glorious ride.

A Harlequin Duck had boarded the scote train as well, feeding close to shore.  Harlequins aren't the easiest birds to see up close in California, so it was nice to be reacquainted, even with a homely individual.

Harlequin Duck and Common Scoter didn't seem to get along, taking turns harassing each other.  If you were to ask me if I was prepared to see a Harlequin Duck and a Common Scoter playing grabass...in California...I would have to say no.  Not in the slightest.

Another bird that I've had poor luck with, in terms of seeing at an appreciable distance, is Long-tailed Duck.  In fact, this is the first Long-tailed Duck ever to make it into a BB&B post, which is long overdue because I really like Long-tailed Ducks and have a constant desire to see more of them.  As you can guess, this bird was riding high on the scote train as well.

My, what a lovely face pattern you have Long-tailed Duck, especially in comparison to a female Surf Scoter. Perhaps all of these birds will be back on the train next winter?  You never know...stranger things have happened.