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August 12, 2016

Does Illness drive Procellariids Inland?

by Bryce W. Robinson

NOTES ON BEACH SIGHTINGS OF TWO MEMBERS OF PROCELLARIIDAE ON THE SOUTHERN SHORE OF THE SEWARD PENINSULA, ALASKA

Photo 1. An unfinished watercolor sketch of a dark morph Pacific Northern Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis rogersii) from my Nome 2016 sketch journal.

In late July my friend Luke DeCicco and I spent quite a bit of time studying gulls along the southern Seward Peninsula coast east of Nome, Alaska. The gulls at this time of year are in their first to second cycle transitive molt (first pre-basic molt), and represent an excellent challenge and education for those of us who care. But this post isn’t about gulls. This post details some anecdotal observations Luke and I made on procellarids we observed while on the coast studying gulls.

Photo 2. Dark morph Pacific Northern Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis rogersii) sitting on the mouth of the Nome River. Nome, Alaska.

While studying gulls at the Nome River mouth east of Nome, Luke noticed a small dark bird sitting onshore amongst a large flock of gulls. He immediately recognized the bird as a dark morph Pacific Northern Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis rogersii). Soon after noticing the bird, the flock took to the air and mixed up. The fulmar flew upstream and landed 200 meters up river, drifting back downriver towards the coast.

I took photos as the bird drifted downriver. When the bird neared my location it started moving towards the shore. It soon reached the river bank and climbed onshore directly in front of me (Photo 3). I was shooting with my 300 mm f4.0 and 1.4X teleconverter, to give some understanding of how close I was to the bird. I still don’t understand the behavior, but I suppose the bird was quite ill and needed to be off water to feel secure.

Photo 3. Dark morph Pacific Northern Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis rogersii) climbing onto the river bank to rest on land. The bird came directly towards me, climbed onshore in front of me, and sat looking towards me.

The bird sat and seemed content and alert. Other than sitting on land only meters in front of me and surrounded by many other people as well, there didn’t appear to be anything aberrant about the birds behavior. I did notice the striking plumage of the dark fulmar, especially the difference between the brown toned retained feathers and the cobalt colored fresh feathers. The bird was in the midst of its pre-basic molt. After about 10 minutes the bird took off and flew out to the ocean and landed ~200 meters offshore. It seemed to fly fine but I still think the reason the bird was on the coast was due to illness.

Photo 4. Resting dark morph Pacific Northern Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis rogersii) on the river bank at the mouth of the Nome River, Nome, Alaska.

Later the same week Luke and I were frequenting the coast of Safety Sound in our attempts at finding and trapping juvenile Red Knots. While checking the coast for knots we came upon a Short-tailed Shearwater sleeping on the beach in the rain. The bird had drooped wings, a sullen posture, and was very wet. It was quite clear the bird was ill and likely wasn’t going to last long.

Photo 5. An ill Short-tailed Shearwater (Ardenna tenuirostris) on the beach of Safety Sound on the Seward Peninsula, Alaska.

Over the next week Luke and I came upon 2 more dead Short-tailed Shearwater on the coast of Safety Sound. The high number of shearwaters and the lone fulmar left me thinking about ill seabirds and their possible inclination to seek land for comfort. I haven’t been able to find any literature on the matter, but I’ll keep looking.

Last year I discovered a Short-tailed Shearwater only 20 meters off shore of Safety Sound at approximately the same location as the bird photographed above (photo 5) and the two other dead shearwaters we discovered this season. I remember last year having thoughts on the health of the near shore shearwater. You can read my write up from last year here: https://ornithologi.com/2015/08/08/short-tailed-shearwater/

I haven’t spent much time on the coast, nor have I much experience studying the family procellariidae, so I’m unsure whether or not these birds seek shelter on the coast if they are ill. I have found seabirds dead on the coast, but in these cases the birds appeared to have been washed to shore after dying in the ocean.

Although a grim subject I couldn’t help but share my observations and thoughts. It’s quite interesting, and for someone who hasn’t spent much time at sea observing these birds it was quite exciting. I’m open for discussion on the matter and would love to hear of any similar experiences from those living on coastlines.

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August 10, 2016

White Wagtail Breeding in Teller, Alaska

by Bryce W. Robinson

Working again in Nome this summer, although for a relatively short time, provided me with the opportunity to attempt to see some of the birds of the region that I had missed in previous years. One such bird was the White Wagtail (Motacilla alba). Before traveling to Nome, my friend Luke had informed me that he had already seen the species in a lagoon near the Red Knot camp, so my chances were promising.

Red Knot work was in full swing when I reached Nome, which limited the chance to try for the wagtails. In the meantime came a report of a White Wagtail AND a Common Ringed Plover (Charadrius hiaticula) in Teller some 40 miles from our camp. On 5 July, a day of rain and weather, we took advantage of the inability to work with Knots and headed to Teller to try for both birds.

An alarm calling adult White Wagtail (Motacilla alba) in Teller, Alaska.

When we reached Teller we began the search, more focused on the plover than the wagtail as the bird was a lifer for most in the group and the wagtail was not. After 20 minutes of fruitless plover searching Luke spotted our other target, a wagtail at the north end of the village. Luke and I both set out to photograph and film the bird and soon realized it was carrying food. Another adult appeared, also with food, and our minds tipped to the possibility that these birds bred in the area. Jim (head of the Red Knot project) watched the food carrying adult and followed it back to an electricity box on the side of a nearby building. The bird entered the utility box, and exited without the food. We quickly backed the truck up below the box to gain access and check for nestlings. Sure enough a grass nest sat in the corner of the box containing small nestlings.

Electricity box containing a White Wagtail (Motacilla alba) nest. Teller, Alaska.

White Wagtail (Motacilla alba) nest. Teller, Alaska.

After quickly documenting the nesting situation we left and let the adults return to provisioning the young. At the end of the day we left Teller with an excellent experience with White Wagtail, but unfortunately no Common Ringed Plover. Such is birding.

A few weeks later on 22 July, Luke and I returned to Teller on another poor weather day to check on the success of the brood. We soon found multiple juvenile wagtails chasing the adults, begging for food. Luke mentioned that White Wagtail had bred in Teller in years past, but I was left feeling like I had just struck oil – My first White Wagtails, breeding at that!

Juvenile White Wagtail (Motacilla alba). Teller, Alaska.

The experienced left me excited. I’ve found that the best way to deal with the hangover excitement of a great birding experience is to illustrate, so after the initial sighting of the adults in early July I took advantage of the next day of weather and painted a White Wagtail on the inset of my Nome 2016 sketch journal.

White Wagtail (Motacilla alba) in the inset of a 2016 field season sketch book for birds of the Seward Peninsula, Alaska.

Seeing a bird species for the first time, and one that is quite uncommon in North America at that, is the best of birding. Especially if it feels like its been a long time coming. To see the bird and gain a first hand account of its breeding habits, well that is something else. It has a context, and context is what makes my experiences fruitful. I love life histories of birds, especially regarding breeding. I consider this experience to be the example of the what I seek when I step out the door aimed at observing birdlife.

July 2016 in Nome, Alaska had some magic, or something. But it seems that it was a continuation of a theme that started in early May. I bet that if you were to ask anyone that traveled to Nome, AK in the summer of 2016 they would agree. It was special summer, and I can’t wait to hear reports of what the fall brings in the region.

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August 7, 2016

Red Knot (Calidris canutus roselaari) Fieldwork in Western Alaska

by Bryce W. Robinson

Adult Red Knot (Calidris canutus roselaari) captured on the breeding grounds in western Alaska.

On 1 July I travelled to Nome, Alaska to work on roselaari Red Knot research. I’ve spent the last month working on the project, and I’ve learned a great deal. The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service has been conducting research on breeding Red Knots for the last seven years on ridge lines outside of Nome. They’ve focused on reproductive monitoring, marking and resighting birds, and determining the timing of arrival and departure on their breeding grounds. The effort has also provided collaboration with folks studying this population on their migratory and wintering grounds. You can read more about the connectivity study here.

Red Knot research field station. Seward Peninsula, Alaska

I feel fortunate to have joined the work, especially considering that the collaborative study effort on this circumpolar breeding species is growing. This year a researcher from the Royal Netherlands Institute for Sea Research (NIOZ) joined the USFWS study effort in Alaska. Jan van Gils Ph.D., whose work was recently featured as the cover article in Science Magazine, joined Jim Johnson and Lucas DeCicco and the USFWS crew to investigate the potential impacts that trophic mismatch may pose on the breeding roselaari Red Knot. It was excellent spending time with Jan, as we discussed many ideas concerning climate change impacts on Red Knots and Arctic life alike.

Jan van Gils et al. 2016 as featured on the cover of Science Magazine.

Alaska’s Red Knot population breeds on higher elevation rocky tundra. Many ridge lines on the Seward Peninsula are important breeding grounds for Red Knots. With climate change comes impacts to prey populations that the Red Knot needs for successful breeding.

Red Knot breeding grounds in western Alaska. The low rocky ridge lines surrounding the river valleys are the preferred breeding habitat of the roselaari Red Knot.

There is then the potential that the tight timing of arrival and breeding of these birds may no longer coincide with the peak abundance of prey populations, something that has already been shown in many species that breed in the Arctic. Thus, understanding fully the timing of their breeding on the ridge is essential for understanding future climate change impacts.

Pinpoint GPS unit attached to an adult Red Knot.

To better understand the latter portion of the timing of Red Knot breeding on the Alaskan ridges, Jim and Luke began deploying pinpoint GPS dataloggers on adults to determine when they depart the breeding grounds, the time they spend on migratory stop over sites, and the length of migration, . This year we deployed units that have already started returning data on migratory locations and duration. It will be exciting to see how the birds differ, or don’t.

Luke checks out the placement of the pinpoint GPS unit on this adult roselaari Red Knot.

I had an excellent month on the peninsula. Apart from learning a great deal about these birds and their breeding ecology, I gained more exposure to excellent bird life in one of my favorite ecosystems. At the end of the season Luke and I shifted our focus to the coastal areas to attempt trapping of staging Juvenile Red Knots for more pinpoint deployment. I’ll highlight the rewards from the effort in my next post. In the end the Red Knot work was the cessation of an excellent summer of Alaskan bird study.

The season was successful thanks to a great field crew apart from Jim, Luke, and myself: Nick Hajdukovich who handled the lead for the first part of the season before Lucas joined in the field, Sarah Godin, Bethany, and Charlie and Linnaea Wright.

June 29, 2016

Great Gray Owl Fledglings

by Bryce W. Robinson

Another highlight from my recent time spent on the Innoko National Wildlife Refuge was happening upon three Great Gray Owl (Strix nebulosa) owlets that had “branched”.

In fact, these birds had hatched in a nest that was nothing more than the top of a birch snag, so far as I could tell. There were no nest structures in the area, only a plenty of broken tree snags about 5 meters tall. I believe that once they were too big to fit, the owlets fledged. Each bird was on a partly fallen truck leaning diagonally, a ramp for them to climb from the ground to relative safety from ground predators.

The first bird my friend Nick and I found sat staring at us, but with only one eye open. It appears from the photo that a Moose Fly (Tabanidae sp.) was biting its eyelid. I became very familiar with these flies during my time in the area, and felt for the poor young owlet. The flies have pinchers on their mouth that they use to break skin, and from my experience with them it seems they do this to draw the blood and then feed. At least mosquitoes are mostly painless during their blood draws…

We first heard the owlets begging calls while conducting a point count a few hundred meters away, but by the time we found them they had quieted down and stood extremely still, staring at us. Without a doubt we were the first humans these birds had seen. The Innoko is a very remote place, as we never saw a single person during our five-day stay in the area despite covering a distance of over 200 river miles round trip.

I was enamored. I’ve seen very few Great Gray Owls in my life, and seeing birds at this age was a first. It has always been something I’ve wanted to see, so it was a dream realized. After getting our fill of the owlets, we began searching for an adult. We soon found a large ghost-like owl, the adult Strix nebulosa, 50 meters from the owlets. In my experience with Great Gray Owls, they’ve been extremely tame birds that tolerate your intrusion and lend themselves to photography. This birds was not tame, and unfortunately flew into the forest as we drew near. I wasn’t able to get any photos, but I managed to watch through my binoculars for a bit.

I captured a short clip of one of the nestlings (below). It’s a rather uneventful short clip, but it adequately describes the experience and the owlets tactful poise as it remained motionless as it kept eyes on Nick while I took video.

Here it is in full, the media from my first encounter of a Great Gray Owl family in the remote Alaskan wilderness.

Tag: avian

by Bryce W. Robinson

by Bryce W. Robinson

by Bryce W. Robinson

by Bryce W. Robinson