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Occasional drizzles punctuated the grey skies over Benicia - a city lying by the inland bay in Northern California. It was New Year's Day and my wife and I together with our hosts, Glenn and Haydee Ilan were out birding in this inclement weather. Neither Haydee nor Glenn are birders and they wanted to experience the awareness of feathered creatures that occupy their little corner of the world. (Although in the back of their minds they're probably thinking that birders are a bit "cuckoo" to go out in this near-freezing temperatures just to look at birds.).
The highlight of our foray along the shores and marshes of Benicia was when we were at the fishing pier at the end of First Street. It was there that we saw another couple who obviously were birders, too (the spotting scope and binoculars were a dead giveaway). Glad that we were not the only nuts to brave the cold, we introduced ourselves. Call it coincidence or whatever, but their last name was also Kaufman! Spelled the exact same way as mine! John and Murthia are from nearby Vallejo and like us, believed that the best way to start the year would be to be out birding. A couple after my own heart, I must say.
While they were scanning the west side of the pier, Cynthia and I looked at the gray expanse on the east side. There I noticed a duck that I'm certain was neither a Scaup nor a Bufflehead which were what we have seen so far. It was a bit far and the light wasn't that good that I couldn't make a positive identification even with the use of my binoculars. I called the Kaufman's and explained my dilemma.
"I think it is a Common Goldeneye, but I'm not sure.", I told John.
Using his scope he finally got the bird in question in view (the bird was always diving for fish) and confirmed my suspicion. It was indeed a female Common Goldeneye. While they were enjoying the sight of the female, I sauntered over to the west side and this time, a male Goldeneye appeared. Yelling and waving once again at the Kaufmans, I told them of my latest finding. They hurried over and once fixed their scope on the male Goldeneye. As I continued to scan the waters, I noticed a raft of ducks about 200 feet away. My jaw dropped as I realized I was staring at a whole bunch of Goldeneyes! We counted 16 of them. This is the most number of these birds that I have seen in one outing. John and Murthia agreed that what we saw bordered on the unusual.
After the initial excitement and without the adrenalin pumping, we now became more aware of the biting cold breezes that chilled us to the bone. We bade our namesakes goodbye and hurried back to where the warmth of a cozy home awaited us.
Thanks to the tip from our birding buddy, Tom Starcic, we could be in a position to add our 4th lifer for 2009. He sent me a picture of Black Scoters that he saw at the Ballona Channel in Playa del Rey. That was last Tuesday, Jan. 6th. Saturday morning as we drove down to Ballona, we were hoping that the scoters were still there.
At 8:30 am we were scouring the east side of the channel. Except for a raft of Buffleheads and tons of Heerman's Gulls, the subjects of our search were nowhere in sight. There were some heartbeat quickening moments when I saw a dark scoter swimming nonchalantly by. Cynthia and I both took numerous pictures of it thinking we finally got our Black Scoter. Reviewing the pictures during a pause in our quest showed the bill to be too dark and too thick for a Black Scoter. It was, as a matter of fact, a female Surf Scoter. Slowly, disappointment started to creep in. Will this be our first heartbreak of the year?
Learning from our Solitary Sandpiper fiasco last year, we once again surveyed the east side of the channel with increased determination. The presence of a couple of bird photographers somehow buoyed our hopes. When we asked them, both gave us the same answer: no Black Scoters seen. It was then that we saw the male Common Goldeneye. Although we have already photographed this bird late last year, it is always nice to have another opportunity to see an uncommon avian visitor. Just as we were focusing on the Goldeneye, a kayaker came paddling by spooking all the birds along his way. Undaunted, we decided to wait a little while hoping the Goldeneye would return - we sort of gave up on the Black Scoters at this point.
Minutes went swiftly by. Only the Buffleheads returned along with a few Gulls. It was now past ten and our hopes were fading fast. I looked at my wife and she merely shrugged - her unspoken way of saying that it's time to throw in the towel. With heavy hearts, we trudged slowly along the berm all the while keeping a wary eye on the waters below. Then "whoosh" came a trio of brownish black birds flying close to the surface of the channel. I followed their flight with my binoculars and immediately knew that the Black Scoters have arrived. To our delight they landed on the channel waters about 100 feet behind us. "They're here!", I told Cynthia. We quickly turned around and I sprinted the distance with the speed of a hungry cheetah chasing an antelope. Then with caution I descended from the berm and were almost on an eye-to-eye level with the scoters. Cynthia, on the other hand, remained at the berm for a more panoramic view. The yellow coloring of the top of the beaks confirmed that we have indeed found our 4th lifer.
Not too far from them, the Common Goldeneye also returned and this time gave us another great photo op.
While the scoters were diving for food, I noticed another kayaker coming up our way. I knew she (this time it was a lady rower) would soon be scattering the scoters and the other avian denizens along the way. I climbed back to the berm and told my wife that it was now time to go. The walk back was now done in buoyant strides that complemented the smug looks on our faces.
* Poltergeist, 1982
The report that a pair of Common Goldeneyes were seen at Bonelli Regional Park perked my interest. You will recall that we dipped badly on this species last Saturday at Big Bear. So off to Bonelli I went (Cynthia is at work) Tuesday morning. The day started out glorious - blue skies and just enough nippiness in the air that invigorates the lungs.
I immediately proceeded to the eastern shore and scanned the lake with my binoculars. Nothing but Mallards, Western Grebes and hundreds of Coots. A pair each of Canada and White-fronted Geese were just waking up as I walked closer to the water's edge. A Killdeer scampered ahead of me. But no wintering ducks! I turned my attention to the land birds. There was a small puddle by the roadside where Yellow-rumps, American Goldfinches, Dark-eyed Juncos and an occasional Western Bluebird would take a drink.
At the easternmost point next to the parking area, a Great Blue Heron and a Snowy Egret were trying to overcome their frozen inertia. A Belted Kingfisher and an Osprey on the other hand, have begun their quest for an early morning meal.
I walked along the lakeside going west accompanied by skiterring Least Sandpipers. Around the bend, I finally saw some Redheads bathing! Further into the open, Western Grebes stretched their necks and legs while Ruddy Ducks slept. Four Eared Grebes went swimming by.
But still no Goldeneyes.
I decided to drive to the western side of the lake and I was turning into the main road, I was completely surprised to see a Roadrunner! I stopped the Jeep, flashe my emergency lights on, opened the window on my side and grabbed my camera gear. Fortunately, I decided to bring my big 500mm telephoto lens for this trip anticipating that the ducks would be at quite a distance offshore. Praying that the lens' Image Stability capabilities would work, as I was handholding the camera and trembling with excitement, I took a bunch of shots at the roadrunner. Eventually it took off and hid among the bushes.
I stopped by restroom # 8 to see if the Painted Redstart still inhabits the tree across. The black-and-red warbler has obviously gone to warmer climes for it was quiet as a cemetery there. There was however, a Merlin perched silently high up a pine tree.
I continued to the west side parking lot and hauled my gear to the lakeside. This time a Spotted Sandpiper came bobbing towards me, totally unmindful of my presence. Once again scanning the lake with my binoculars, I saw Lesser and Greater Scaups together offering excellent opportunities to compare one species from the other.
But still no Goldeneyes.
The beautiful morning soon turned into overcast skies and a few drops of rain forebode a wet afternoon.
I will have to "live another day" in my search for the Goldeneye. (Oh no, not another James Bond theme!)
