A Tern of Fortune

Our birding woes continued to haunt us. Having failed at finding the Solitary Sandpiper last August 15th, two more species of its family made our lives a bit miserable lately. On both occasions we had those “maybe we did, maybe we didn’t” situations. Allow me to elaborate:

Last Saturday my wife and I went to the Los Angeles River to look for Baird’s Sandpipers. There were hundreds of peeps gathered in the distance about of perhaps more than a hundred feet away. To pick out a few paler, longer winged individuals from that group was downright frustrating, especially when the flock would suddenly take off, circle a bit, and land just a few feet where they used to be. We thought we saw a couple of pale birds from the constantly moving throng but without a photograph (did I mention they were too far?) to support our hunch or an expert opinion to confirm the identities of the birds we saw (where are the uberbirders when you need them?), we decided not to include the Baird’s on our list.

I visited San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary in Irvine last Monday. Cynthia has to go to work so I went solo. This time my quarry was a Semipalmated Sandpiper. As Yogi Berra once said, “it’s déjà vu all over again”. There were tons of Westerns and Leasts frolicking at the ponds and to pick out one with a shorter bill among them was an exercise in futility. Even with the arrival of locals Jim and Lucy (with her spotting scope) didn’t do any good. I took some pictures of what I suspected to be the Semipalmated, but the expert who I sent them to couldn’t be 100% sure either.

Earlier in the morning, just to shake off the misery of failing to find the Semiplamated, I wandered off to the other ponds, hoping that my target bird would be there (and easier to spot). While I was scanning the waters at Pond C, a tern kept circling and made various attempts at catching some prey. I didn’t pay much attention to it, as terns are not that unusual here. But then in one of its turns, I noticed that the wings were dark grayish unlike the Forster’s that frequent this place. Now this time I had with me my big 500mm lens mounted on a tripod. This set-up is excellent for birds that stay put. But try it on a fast flying whitish bird and it becomes the epitome of inefficiency. That said, I was able to get a “hail mary” shot – good enough to confirm (thanks to Lucy’s help) that what I saw was a juvenile Black Tern! I think it is safe to say that the Black Tern is as uncommon as a Semipalmated Sandpiper hereabouts. At least my day wasn’t a total loss.




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An Accidental Tern

On the last day of the three-day weekend, we finally got to go birding. We originally intended to go to Morongo Valley but the 120 mile drive in hot weather with no guarantee of a lifer made me cancel that plan. Instead we went to San Joaquin Wildlife Sanctuary (SJWS) in Irvine which was half the distance to Morongo, and where there was the possibility of seeing a Solitary Sandpiper. Which, of course, would be a lifer for us.

Whenever we leave the house early (before 7 am) to go birding, we almost always make it a point to stop by a McDonalds for breakfast. This has become more or less a ritual for us. After being misled by our GPS which directed us to a non-existent McDs at Michelson St (which was about a couple of blocks from SJWS), we finally found another one about two miles away.

After breakfast we decided to visit the San Diego Creek behind the Irvine Civic Center where a Solitary Sandpiper has also been found. The place was quite birdy: a Great Blue Heron, both kinds of Egrets (Snowy and Great) and a White-faced Ibis were there. But no Solitary Sandpiper. Interestingly, there were Lesser Yellowlegs and Spotted Sandpipers in the creek. If by some miracle these two species would mate, the result would look exactly like a Solitary Sandpiper - yellow legs, dark brown back and a disposition for bobbing.

At around 8:30 we proceeded to SJWS where the ponds yielded nothing unusual. Generally, sandpipers are tiny shorebirds that look alike particularly in their non-breeding plumage - as they were this time of year. So much so that they are collectively known as "peeps". In hopes of locating our sought after Solitary Sandpiper, I had to scan flocks of these constantly moving birds and try to look at each one to detect the telltale sign that would differentiate the Solitary from the Westerns and the Leasts.

A handful of birders came and went, each one asking the question of the day: "Did you see the Solitary Sandpiper?" And each time the reply was in the negative. At least some of us were lucky enough to see the Sora Rail, a very secretive and skulking bird, come out in the open. At around half past eleven our hopes of ever seeing our target bird were dwindling fast.

Just as we were about to leave, there was a bird that joined the group of barn swallows hawking for insects above Pond C. It was behaving like a swallow but it was almost twice as big. A tern! But unlike the usual terns that sometimes visit SJWS, this one had dark wings and a dark underside. I know I've seen this kind before....until it finally dawned on me..this was a Black Tern! Certainly unusual in this part of California. Soon other birders were alerted to its presence.

Of course, Cynthia always has a better shot. Did I mention that she is real good at photographing BIFs (Birds in Flight)?

The Black Tern, though not a lifer, certainly made up for the disappointment of not seeing the Solitary Sandpiper. Not just for us, but for the other birders as well.

A Tern for the Better

The Salton Sea saga continues. No luck on the Booby. The Burrowing Owls have flown the coop. Next target is the Piping Plover. A rarity. Last seen in Southern California 40 years ago. Little did we know that to see it, we have to negotiate a narrow trail. Next to a body of water. We chickened out. Not desiring to risk dumping precious equipment and lots of pride should we stumble from the precarious viewing area. Not worth it, I consoled myself. The photographer and miser overruling the birder in me.

We are now batting 0 for 3. Not good statistics. Decided to hit the Obsidian Butte (pronounced byut). The road runs parallel to the sea. We parked when I saw some seabirds. The usual suspects. I sighed. Was about to board the jeep when something black flew by. Not too many black seabirds, I said to myself. Could it be a...? I have read in the Yahoo listserves that they been spotted here before. But then, with the kind of luck I'm having...

Brought up my binoculars. Hope guiding my eyes to the flying black bird. Could it be a...? Grabbed my Sibley's Field Guide. Trembling hands and eager eyes scanning the pages. Yes! Yes, it is a Black Tern! A lifer for me! Quickly set-up my camera and fired away. Memories are made of this.