Tag Archives: Massachusetts

Birding Race Point: Cape Cod’s Pelagic Playground

The week before Thanksgiving, my family had the opportunity to visit a place that featured prominently in my childhood—Cape Cod, Massachusetts. We headed to Boston so that I could accept a big award for my picture book, Border Crossings, but the trip provided many piggybacking opportunities. These included a chance to look at colleges for Braden’s sister, Tessa, and to meet up with Braden for Thanksgiving. After Amy, Tessa, and I spent a few days in Boston, in fact, Braden drove down from the University of Maine and whisked us off to the Cape.

I spent parts of many summers in Woods Hole on the Cape. My father did his post-doc at WHOI—the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution. My step-father spent dozens of summers in Woods Hole doing research and teaching classes at the MBL—the Marine Biological Laboratories. I have many fond (and some not-so-fond) memories of those summers, but had not been back for (gasp) 45 years! I looked forward to revisiting old haunts and showing my family some of the places that had shaped my childhood. Naturally, Braden and I also considered the birding possibilities.

When Braden first mentioned going to Race Point near Provincetown, I hesitated. I recalled driving up there as a ten-year-old and didn’t relish spending an extra four hours of our vacation in a car. When Braden started telling me what we might find there, however, I quickly changed my mind.

Race Point, it turns out, is one of the nation’s premiere places for spotting seabirds from land. A map reveals an obvious reason: Cape Cod juts miles out into the Atlantic Ocean, and the tip—Race Point itself—is surrounded on three sides by the sea. This means that birders have an opportunity to see both regular beach-type birds and many species that only rarely show up near land. Braden and I especially hoped to see jaegers, “tube noses” such as shearwaters, and any interesting gulls or ducks that happened to be around.

After a delicious breakfast at Liz’s Café in Provincetown, Braden and I left Amy and Tessa to explore while we headed off to the parking lot near Race Point lighthouse. As soon as we approached the beach, we spotted Northern Gannets soaring above wild, wind-raked seas. I’d only ever gotten a brief look at a NOGA before, when Braden and I had visited Acadia National Park three years before, so right away the drive up to Provincetown redeemed itself!

However, the excitement was just beginning.

**One of perhaps 150 Northern Gannets we saw at Race Point. Like Blue-footed Boobies, these birds torpedo straight down into schools of fish.**

As wind and sand pelted us, groups of White-winged and Black Scoters, Common Eiders, and Long-tailed Ducks skimmed the waves just offshore. Some occasionally landed, but most seemed hell-bent for destinations only they knew about. All were birds I had scant experience with, so I soaked up every sighting.

**This was only my second time seeing Common Eiders, and I was uber impressed by the coloration of both females and males.**

“There’s a Red-throated Loon!” Braden said, pointing to a bird with an exceedingly pale, long neck reaching up from the surface. It wouldn’t be long before we saw several Common Loons, differentiated by blockier heads, chunkier bills, and more black on their faces.

**Only my second Red-throated Loon ever. Note the smooth, rounded head and white “winter” face.**

At the top of our To Find list were Great Shearwaters, a potential Lifer for both of us. These birds belong to the “tube noses,” the same group of birds that includes albatrosses, fulmars, and storm-petrels. These birds are truly seafarers, rarely approaching shore. Only a few weeks ago, I had caught a glimpse of Sooty Shearwaters while visiting California’s Point Reyes National Park with my friend Scott. Great Shearwaters had been sighted regularly at Race Point for the past couple of weeks, but alas, we arrived too late to see them today.

**Braden fruitlessly searching the seas for Great Shearwaters and jaegers.**

We still had plenty of thrilling birds to look at, however. As we trudged the mile and a half through the soft sand toward the very tip of the Cape, flocks of Dunlin and Sanderlings in their winter plumages worked the drifts of foam left on the beach by each encroaching wave. We even saw a group of six Horned Larks, birds we were used to seeing on the backroads of Montana—not here at the end of the world.

**It had been years since I’d gotten to hang with Dunlins, and it was a real treat.**

Not to be outdone, gulls also put on a show. This was the first time I’d ever gotten to see Great Black-backed Gulls in a natural setting. They are the world’s largest gulls, and I gotta say they looked like they belonged in this rugged, challenging environment.

“Look!” Braden suddenly shouted. “Iceland Gull!” Two of them, in fact. These gulls had until recently been split into Iceland and Thayer’s Gull, and Braden and I had seen the latter at the Helena landfill in Montana. This look was much more memorable as both a juvenile and adult landed near us. Both were gorgeous birds with subtle markings, and they quickly jumped into contention for Bird of the Day honors. Not long after seeing the Iceland Gulls, Braden also spotted a Black-legged Kittiwake. I was grateful he’d gained experience with all of these birds while on the East Coast, because I certainly would have missed a lot of them.

**I don’t even want to know what this Great Black-backed Gull is eating, as our two Iceland Gulls look on.**

I picked up two Lifers for the day. One was Razorbill, a kind of black-and-white alcid I had dreamed about seeing for years (see our post “All About Alcids”). During our hike to the lighthouse and back, we saw about eighty of these birds in groups, flying low or bobbing up and down in the jagged waves. My second Lifer was a pair of Purple Sandpipers that landed in front of us and shouldn’t have been anywhere near a wide sandy beach. Like its closely-related West Coast cousin the Rock Sandpiper, these are rocky shore birds.

**I was especially thrilled to see my Lifer Razorbills, but it’s a tossup whether these or the Iceland Gulls grabbed Bird of the Day honors.**

“They must be migrating,” I said, and Braden agreed, though we were well within their wintering latitudes.

As we trudged back toward the car, Braden spotted a fin jutting out of the water. At first we thought it might be the dorsal fin of a shark or orca, but after watching it for a few minutes, we concluded that we were looking at the tail flukes of a larger whale. I’d seen quite a few humpback whales before, and these didn’t look anything like it. “I think it’s a Right Whale,” I said. Later, we learned that Right Whales had been regularly spotted in the area. It was one more unforgettable discovery for a memorable day.

Race Point eBird Checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S203601766

Parker River NWR and the 3 Ps of Birding

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If it’s one thing we at FatherSonBirding hammer over and over again, it is the 3 Ps: Planning, Persistence, and Preparation.

Okay, actually, we have never talked much about this, but it’s a catchy concept, isn’t it? The 3 Ps, in fact, came very much into play recently when, after our rather disappointing birding in Boston, Braden and I headed up the coast to a place Braden had carefully researched (P Number 1) ahead of time: the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge.

One of the gems of the New England coast, Parker River NWR turned out to be our favorite birding spot of our week-long sojourn.

I had actually never heard of Parker River before, but Braden learned about it from some online birding buddies and checked it out to see if it was “visit-worthy”. His verdict? Definitely. Not only might we collect a handful of Life Birds there, the refuge protected one of his top ABA target birds: Saltmarsh Sparrow.

Now, I have to say that when we visit a National Wildlife Refuge, I generally expect a pretty low-key, rarely visited location. Imagine my surprise when we encountered a mini traffic jam waiting to get in. In fact, it became evident that the refuge served not only to protect wildlife, but as a critical outdoor outlet for congested coastal Massachusetts. Our visit started auspiciously with a stop at Lot 1, where we got a quick fly-over of a Baltimore Oriole—the only one we would see on our trip. Crossing the highway, we encountered an even cooler surprise: the closest looks we’d ever had of Semipalmated and Least Sandpipers! This was especially useful after the ID struggles we’d had with birds in eastern Washington only weeks before, and it really helped us examine the unique properties of each.

Having both Semipalmated (left) and Least Sandpipers right in front of us really helped Braden and me visually imprint these hard-to-ID species in our brains. Note especially the darker, browner overall appearance of the Least. Its yellow legs are a giveaway, too—but only when they aren’t covered in mud!

As we moved on, though, Braden felt pessimistic about seeing Saltmarsh Sparrows. He had Planned. He had Prepared himself with knowledge. But Boston had put an “unlucky” vibe in his head. As we made our second stop along the refuge’s main road, however, he suddenly shouted, “I see them!” Indeed, not thirty feet from us, at least four or five fairly nondescript little birds bumbled about in some tall marsh grass, seemingly not knowing what they were doing. “They seem like juveniles,” Braden surmised, and having studied this species quite a bit, he would know.

Saltmarsh Sparrows used to be lumped with Nelson’s Sparrows as one species, the Sharp-tailed Sparrow. As its own species, however, the Saltmarsh Sparrow occupies a narrow range of saltmarsh habitat along the East Coast and, in fact, requires this habitat for nesting. Because of this, it is at extreme risk from higher sea levels caused by climate change, and its population has been steadily declining. This makes protecting places like Parker River NWR even more important—and made us feel especially privileged to have such a close experience with them.

Our amazing experience with Saltmarsh Sparrows proved once again that persistence just may be the most important attribute of a successful birder.

Leaving the Saltmarsh Sparrows, we continued to hit other places in the refuge and were rewarded with a host of Year Birds, and two more Life Birds: Purple Finch and Great Crested Flycatcher—our number one ABA need to that point. Which all demonstrates the third P of birding: Persistence. Sure, luck plays a role, but just getting out there again and again will eventually take luck out of the equation, something we learned for the thousandth time at Parker River.

Click for a link to our largest Parker River checklist. Crazy migrating swallows!

Birding Boston

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As some of you may have surmised, the recent spate of cooler, rainy weather put an end to my “Truck Birding” goal of 100 species, but I don’t hold a grudge. In fact, I have conjured up a new goal to replace it—breaking my all-time ABA Big Year Record of 336 species. More on that later.

In bigger news, I recently took Braden back to Orono, Maine to begin his college career at the University of Maine. As you can imagine, it was an emotional experience, but a good one. Because of COVID, we had not even had a chance to visit the campus so we decided to go a week early to explore the area, get him settled—and of course—bird our butts off. First up? A three-night stay in Boston to catch a Red Sox game (they won 6-0!) and see what kind of birding blessed Beantown.

We did not see a single bird during the Red Sox’s decisive victory over the Texas Rangers, but did get an up-close view of a home run by Xander Bogaerts as it sailed over the Green Monster. (Note: let’s see if MLB or the Sox forces me to take down this image. They are notorious about controlling baseball images.)

Our plans were stymied by heavy rain our first morning, so we tested ourselves against the stuffed bird specimens at the Boston Science Museum and managed to pick up Double-crested Cormorant, Herring Gull, and Great Black-backed Gull out the rain-drenched window on the Charles River. Afterward, we walked to Boston Common, hoping to find some great city birds. We were sadly disappointed. The problem? The world-famous downtown park has almost no understory layer—no bushes, hedges, and shrubs to offer cover to songbirds. As a result, Common Grackles, Canada Geese, starlings and other “trash birds” dominate. A progressive city such as Boston should fix this situation right away, don’t you think? With a lot of searching, we did manage to spot two Eastern Phoebes and coax in a couple of Black-capped Chickadees, but ended with only nine species, a dismal showing.

Our next morning also began badly. Thanks to our loyal FatherSonBirding reader, Roger Kohn, we bee-lined to Belle Isle Marsh, and were immediately driven back into the car by bloodthirsty waves of mosquitoes, forcing us to seek out a nearby drugstore for insect repellent. Upon our return, we still lost several pints of blood, but were able to chalk up 27 species. Alas, we missed our main target bird, Saltmarsh Sparrow, and saw nothing else to write home about. Feeling a little blue, we headed to our next destination, Deer Island.

Being an energy nut, I was interested in the how the giant sludge digesters (and windmills, only partly visible) at Deer Island produce energy for the rest of the plant. You can also see the bits of prairie habitat next to them above.

Deer Island is home to a fascinating wastewater treatment plant that serves 43 cities in the Boston area, and its giant egg-shaped sludge digesters have become famous and intriguing landmarks. We decided to embark on a three-mile circumnavigation of the treatment plant, especially hoping to glimpse some pelagic birds in the surrounding waters. We saw none, and not too much else very interesting for most of the walk. We did console ourselves by learning the differences between juvenile Herring and Black-backed Gulls, and Braden found me some Lifer Common Eiders floating offshore, but one of the most interesting things was that some great prairie habitat exists along the trail and we saw mating Monarch Butterflies and individual Black Swallowtails on our hike.

Having heard grim reports of Monarch Butterfly declines across the U.S., we were glad to find at least one or two individuals in almost every location we visited—including in the shadows of the Deer Island Wastewater Treatment Plant!

Finally, close to the end of our walk, two terrific birds showed themselves. One is a bird we especially hoped to see: our first ABA American Oystercatcher. We had seen one in the Galapagos in 2017, but never on U.S. shores! As we rounded a bend near a rock jetty, though, we were scanning dozens of Double-crested Cormorants when I caught the distinctive red-and-white flash of an AMOY. Even better, it soon flew over to forage on the pebbly beach below us!

This American Oystercatcher—the first we’d ever seen in the U.S.—garnered Boston Bird of the Day honors!

After enjoying the oystercatcher for a full ten minutes, we had just resumed walking when a large dark bird flashed by like an F-18. “Peregrine Falcon!” Braden shouted. We couldn’t believe it. We had hoped to see one there, but didn’t think it was possible. It provided a great testament to the value of conservation efforts and why we need to keep protecting nature. It also happened to be great timing to head to Belle Isle Seafood for lunch!

Our Deer Island checklist: https://ebird.org/checklist/S93492991

Up Next: Birding the New England Coast.

As always, please share this post—but not with Major League Baseball! Thank you!