Know Your Neighbours: Tropical BirdWatching
October-November 2003
This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
To download a pdf copy of the magazine click here: > DOWNLOAD
by Bryan Nichols
Winter approaches, so it’s time to think of snowy owls and arctic curlews. Wait a minute—the heck with owls and curlews. Pack your bags—we’re heading south for some tropical birdwatching. Though many coastal species of birds (and people) wisely migrate south for Caribbean winters, we’ll concentrate on birds which are reluctant to head north at all. To pursue this checklist you’ll have to abandon those southeast winds filled with snow and drizzle and head southeast to warmer waters. As you peel off your parka and rub in some sunscreen, you’ll likely notice there are ecological differences between paddling here and there. Pacific Northwest shorelines are typically steep and rocky, but down south there’s a lot of shallow water, much of it sitting on top of mud. Mud and mangroves, mud and sea grass, just plain mud, often only a meter or less below your hull. Of course, it’s usually not plain mud at all—it’s full of critters. Wading birds have evolved to take advantage of all that food, and the bills they use to poke around give them a ‘tropical’ look—plenty of birds with odd bills are on this month’s list. Many of the tropical birds you’ll encounter in the southern US are ‘exotics’, not native to the area. Florida in particular is rife with exotic birds run wild—parrots, or more likely parakeets, fly hither and thither, squawking obnoxiously. The only species native to North America (the Carolina parakeet) was wiped out by 1920. Flamingos themselves are suspect— many believe that natural flocks stopped visiting south Florida (from the Bahamas) around 1900, and the ones you might see are descendants of escapees from zoos and theme parks. Escapees or not, what’s with that pink? Why aren’t there any giant pink birds in the Northwest? Down south, roseate spoonbills and the more famous flamingos are decidedly pink—it’s not a Floridian cliché, and it’s not Disney feeding them food coloring. Flamingos get their color from the same source wild salmon do—shrimpy looking little copepods. You might recall that shrimp are naturally pinkish. Eat a lot of the right copepods and apparently it can pinkify your flesh or feathers—too bad it doesn’t happen to our herons or eagles. For this list I’ve chosen some shorebirds (see my Feb 2003 column), some seabirds (see Aug 2003) and thrown in a couple of birds more inclined to freshwater, since lazy river and estuary paddling is popular in many spots down south. Kayaks are a great way to see these birds. Many of those extensive, muddy shallows are inaccessible by normal boats. When you spot a flock of ibises poking around in the mud you can let the breeze drift you along—if you don’t move, your shape is often not alarming. Of course, not all these birds are shy. Brown pelicans, in particular, are easily habituated by feeding, and hang out near docks, boats and other potential sources of handouts. Some even get belligerent if they’re not fed. Ss always with wildlife, resist the temptation. Mangroves (see Oct 2002) are a great place to look for birds while paddling. The shallows around them provide good wading and plenty of food, while the branches provide a place to roost that’s mostly predator free, particularly on small islands. Many are designated wildlife refuges and may be alive with squawking, wheeling birds. Wandering around on these reserves is often illegal as well as unpleasant, but paddling around them is fascinating and legal. By the way, if you’re the type that gets homesick easily, you’ll be happy to know that all the birds you’ll see under tropical skies aren’t strange or pink. On, over and under the water will be some familiar beaks. Diving below the surface will be good old double crested cormorants. These dark, heavy birds can be found from the Aleutians right through to the Antilles—and down the Baja as well. North American paddlers see them just about everywhere. Above the waves are ospreys, adept at picking off Caribbean fish—and without bald eagles to harass them they are more common here. Finally, wading in the shallows will be blue herons—their slow stalking, spindly legs and horrendous squawks familiar to us all. Tuck this Wavelength into your suitcase and head south—the birds and I look forward to seeing you. © Biologist Bryan Nichols now has two kayaks but no furniture in Florida—his priorities are clearly for the birds. Drop him a line at brynichols@wildmail.com.
Checklist 33 - Some Watery Caribbean Birds
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