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Well, Hilo there!
On our third day, our visit to the Bird Park was once again cut short by a busload of students doing a nature walk. Before that we were able to take photos of the male Hawaiian Elepaio and a documentary shot of an Oma'o.
Before we left, Ted Brattstrom, a teacher of the school having an outing, engaged us in a really serious avian conversation. He encouraged us to check out the areas not far from our hotel. He even mentioned Coconut Island which is more of an islet, really, that is connected by a short concrete bridge from a park about a stone's throw away from where we were staying.
Back in Hilo, per Ted's suggestion, we surveyed the areas somewhere between the airport and our hotel. And discovered a pond. This pond harbored only two species of birds, Black-crowned Night Heron (we saw a total of 2 and both were juveniles) and Hawaiian Coots.
Across the street from the pond was a "beach". Not the white sandy kind that you probably picture in your mind. The shore was rocky, yet there were still a lot of beachcombers around. Despite the presence of a lot of people, some of which were rather loud, there were birds! Common Mynas, Pacific Golden Plovers, Zebra Doves, Spotted doves and even Yellow-billed Cardinals were mingling insouciantly with humanity. The rocky crags by the shore harbored Wandering Tattlers and Ruddy Turnstones, just as Ted said.
After lunch we ventured towards the famed Coconut Island. Along the way, I was surprised to find Scaly-breasted Munias (or Nutmeg Mannikins, as they are known here) feeding on the grass by the sidewalk!
Coconut Island was pretty much a reprise of what we have seen earlier, except the beach goers here were of the more genteel variety. The birds were even more accustomed to the presence of human beings. The Yellow-billed Cardinals were checking out the trash cans while Ruddy Turnstones were feeding on chips! A Wandering Tattler, already in breeding plumage, decided to stop wandering for a while and a Zebra Dove thought a little sun would do good for its underwing feathers.
That evening while we were buying some foodstuff to take to our room, I got my bonus bird. It was a Northern Cardinal, quite common here in the Big Island. We've seen it Kona, and even at the Bird Park, but never managed to get a good picture of it. But now, here it was trilling from a tree next to the parking lot and not flying away when I came near unlike it's unfriendly cousins elsewhere.
That brought closure to our birding trip to the Big Island. We got the birds that we expected and then some.
A birder's life is full of ups and downs. A bird photographer's even more so. Not seeing the bird (or birds) being searched for is one of a birder/bird photographers's biggest frustrations. On the other hand, encountering a species out of pure serendipity is their ultimate joy. For both to happen in a single day is what makes a birder/bird photographers' life quite exciting.
Such an event happened on Saturday, September 20th. Fall migration has begun. And when fall begins, the place to be is the row of Tamarisk and Eucalyptus trees along Laguna Road in Camarillo - known to birders everywhere as Laguna Tams. That small grove of trees is what is referred to in the birding world as a migrant trap. At the height of the autumnal southward flight of migrating birds, the Tams have been known to harbor some uncommon warblers and vireos.
Perhaps it was still too early in the season. Or maybe this was really not a good year for birding. Because in the two hours that we spent at the Tams, our search for the rare warblers yielded only one Orange-crowned Warbler, and one Townsends. And yes, there were some Song Sparrows and Common Yellowthroats by the creek, but these are species that are common everywhere. Thankfully there were also a few Warbling Vireos.
Frustrated, we tried the bridge along Wood Road where a Solitary Sandpiper was seen about two weeks ago. There was a sandpiper there alright. And it was by itself (meaning it was solitary..ha ha) but it was a Spotted Sandpiper.
"Where do you want to go now?" my wife asked seeing the dark clouds of frustration beginning to cover my face.
"Let's go to Playa del Rey", I answered. "At least we won't strike out because there will always be Oystercatchers and Surfbirds there."
As we hit the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) there were some areas where cars can be parked and people can look at the Pacific Ocean a few feet below. At one of these vista points, we saw some gulls basking in the sun. As soon as I pulled over, Cynthia jumped out and started scanning the rocks by the ocean's edge. I followed her bringing just my binoculars as we weren't expecting anything unusual here, except for the gulls.
"There's a bird walking on top of the rocks over there", my wife said pointing to a pile of gray boulders. I caught a glimpse of some movement and focusing my binos on the moving object, my heart leapt and my jaw dropped.
"Darling, it's a Wandering Tattler!" I exclaimed. "Don't let it out of your sight," I instructed Cynthia as I sprinted to the Jeep to get our cameras.
One of the reasons I suggested going to Playa del Rey was that I was hoping that we would see the Tattler there, even though there were no reports of it being seen at that place lately. And so for the next thirty minutes or so, we enjoyed our serendipitous encounter with our 78th lifer of the year!
I even got a video:
So elated were we that we decided to cancel the trip to Playa and just rest on our laurels the rest of the day.
