MEGA: Hawaii's First Spotted Redshank!

You know the saying "Go big or go home"?  Well, I defied that by going big, then going home.  I was in Hawaii visiting friends and enjoying its amazing natural and not-so-natural history from October 24th to November 8th, and boy did I ever make it memorable!

On November 2nd, I was hiking the incredible Pu'u O'o Trail off the Saddle Rd. that traverses the Big Island between Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa.  I had the good fortune of bumping into Jack Jeffrey - a well-respected ornithologist and photographer in Hawaii - and he mentioned the Kona Wastewater Treatment Plant is a great place to search for migrant waterfowl and shorebirds.  There is almost an irony in this recommendation, as Jack's central focus is native forest birds.  Regardless, I immediately decided it was a place I wanted to visit.

Despite seeing some of the incredible native forest birds that are too gawdy for words, I found there was also something equally incredible about seeing migrant waterfowl and shorebirds, ones I see here on southern Vancouver Island, way out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.  How they manage to find terra firma when the nearest major land masses are thousands of kilometres away is beyond me.  That was the major stimulus for following Jack's advice to hit up the Kona Wastewater Treatment Plant on November 3rd.

The treatment plant is not open to the public, but birders have graciously been allowed to venture around the facility, staying outside the chainlink fence.  Janean and I ventured in and followed a dirt road onto a dyke that offered a good vantage of the wastewater treatment ponds.  Scanning the edges of the ponds, I found many of the expected Hawaiian marsh birds: Hawaiian Stilts, Hawaiian Coots, Pacific Golden-Plovers, Ruddy Turnstones, Sanderlings, and a few Wandering Tattlers.  Additionally, I spotted a lone Cackling Goose that has apparently been a long-staying uncommon bird, plus a single Lesser Scaup.  I also spotted a large wader in the corner of the furthest back pond on the left (i.e., southwesternmost).  The heat haze was horrid and I figured it must be a Greater Yellowlegs, which would be a pretty good bird.  I tried my best to get good looks from the dyke, but the heat haze was too strong.  I got distracted by a small tern flying over the ponds and my attention was focused on it for a while.  Even my views of the tern were unsatisfying, but I managed to ascertain that it was a Least Tern.  A look on eBird confirmed that a juvenile had been reported there within the past month and since then I have learned that Least Terns actually bred in the area.

Coming from the wet Hilo side, the dry Kona heat not only made the viewing conditions difficult, but it spurred me to move on because Janean is quite fair-skinned.  Oh... and we were at a wastewater treatment plant in Hawaii.  How fair is that?!?  I gave one last look at that large wader and just had to shrug.  "Probably just a Greater Yellowlegs" I thought, but there was something that didn't sit right with me about it.  The legs seemed quite bright even through the haze.  I knew I would be coming back to Kona on the last day and I would have the whole afternoon to explore the area.  Janean is very accommodating and said I could go back on our last day.

November 7th was our last full day and we weren't scheduled to fly until 12:50 a.m. on the 8th.  We worked our way towards Kona in the morning, heading north from Ka'u.  We had a fairly leisurely morning, including stopping in for a nice coffee and using some WiFi, so we didn't get to the treatment plant until noon.  Janean said she would rather just relax in the car so she didn't feel like she was rushing me - what a lucky guy!  I marched out to the dyke and set up the scope, hoping the "vog" (volcanic fog) would cut the haze.  The large wader was in the exact same spot, but the heat haze still hampered views.  I scoped around quickly for anything else unusual and then focused back on the wader.  It moved up out of the water and onto the black plastic lining, which provided a much better contrast to evaluate the legs.  I thought "Man... those legs are glowing!"  I packed up the scope and decided that I had to get closer to see if there was any chance it was the outrageous thing I thought it might be.

I skirted the facility to the left of the entrance and got to a place that was much closer and hopefully still offered a view of the bird.  I set the scope up and started scanning... no dice.  I figured it was just out of view, so I waited a minute and checked again.  There it was... creamsicle orange legs just screaming "Hey dummy... my shanks are red!"  I started to piece together the other features I knew off the top of my head: the basal half of the bill's lower mandible was reddy-orange, the overall colour was tan-brown with the speckled pattern reminiscent of a yellowlegs, it had white supercilia and dark lores, and the neck down to the belly had a tan wash, including blurry streaking on the upper chest.  There was something else I was supposed to look for... right, redshanks are supposed to have a white wedge running up the back, in the same vein as dowitchers,  I watched the redshank as it bobbed its way along the edge of pond.  I was hoping the Hawaiian Coot would be curious enough about the foreign visitor to peck at its legs.  Instead, the noisy activity of a nearby Hawaiian Stilt caused the redshank to make a short flight.  As its wings opened, the white patch was revealed up the back and, to separate it from Common Redshank, it lacked broad white trailing edges on the wings.  I was looking at a juvenile SPOTTED REDSHANK!!!  I guarantee I was muttering expletives to myself and I was certain this was a mega rarity for Hawaii.  I wasn't sure exactly how good it was, but I knew it was going to cause a stir.

When you're close, there's no doubt about its identity! (Photo: Eric VanderWerf)

Excellent shot showing the white between the wings (Photo: Eric VanderWerf)

White supercilium and dark lores showing well here (Photo: Eric VanderWerf)

So, I had just seen a Spotted Redshank in Hawaii and I had no idea what magnitude the rarity was and I wasn't sure who to contact.  My only attempts to contact locals failed, so I did the next best thing: social media.  I contacted Jeremy Kimm and asked him to put the word out on the ABA Rare Bird Alert page on Facebook and anywhere else relevant.  He did just that and the more relevant page he got it on was the Hawaii Birdwatching group on Facebook.  From there, enthusiastic local birder Lance Tanino grilled Jeremy K. for more details.  It was, after all, a Hawaiian first - that's when I truly grasped the weight of the sighting.  I called Jeremy to get all the information out in a prompt manner and this convinced Lance and also Jean Campbell that they should be there first thing in the morning the next day.

I was grateful to Lance and Jean because they got down there and photo-documented the bird.  My camera was out of commission, so I wasn't able to document the bird.  They both managed to obtain tangible evidence that it existed and soon more Hawaiian birders were making the trip to see this far-flung Asian shorebird.  Similarly, I must thank Eric VanderWerf for supplying the photos he managed to obtain, as they make this entry less bland!  This is conceivably the rarest bird I have ever found: a state first!  I have had two provincial second records (Ross' Gull and Painted Bunting) and one third record (Lesser Nighthawk) for BC, but never a first.  What a thrilling event and one hell of a way to end my first trip to the Hawaiian Islands!

I Heard It Through the Kiwi Vine...

A few weeks ago, if you'll recall, I managed to see my first Clay-coloured Sparrow in the Victoria checklist area.  I even made brief mention of the next five species I anticipated to add as I work towards 300.  Well, you can pretty much guarantee it won't work out the way you anticipate and I pretty instantly derailed my list.

On June 24, Ann Nightingale headed over to Livesay Rd. where Bullock's Orioles were first noted four days earlier.  Not only were the orioles still around, but a song rarely heard in Victoria was being repeated in the backdrop.  Luckily Ann recognized the repeated "che-bek" phrase as a singing Least Flycatcher.  Unfortunately for me, I was working in the interior and heading to Valemount for four more days of work.  Even worse, the trail went cold the next morning after it put in a brief appearance.  It wasn't reported over the next two days and I figured it was yet another Least Flycatcher that had slipped through my grasp due to my absence from the Victoria area.

The Newells are a persistent bunch and they not only checked in on the orioles on June 28, but they also decided to check around the kiwi farms near the intersection of Martindale and Welch.  Surprisingly enough, they relocated the Least Flycatcher singing around the kiwi farm - awesome!  I was finishing up my work that day and had a day of natural history mayhem planned for the next day down in the Okanagan.  I wasn't about to rush back to Victoria for the Least Flycatcher, but I made sure to stay updated on its status.  After a morning in Princeton and Manning Park on the 30th, I was bound for Swartz Bay on the 6 p.m. ferry.  While on the ferry, I read an update from Mike McGrenere saying that he had the Least in the morning.  I wanted to pop in to drop off some Okanagan cherries to my dad, but I planned to make it quick so I could put in a bit of time before dark trying to hear or see the flycatcher.  I mentioned it to my dad and he wanted to join me, so we hopped in my work truck and we headed on over to the kiwi farms.  I am fortunately very familiar with Least Flycatcher due to the areas I work, so I stood still and just listened.  It took a minute, but I heard a distant "che-bek" at the far end of the kiwi farm on the south side of Martindale Rd.  We tracked the bird down to the row of poplars at the south side of the farm.  I popped just inside the row of poplars along the road and managed to see a little empid with obvious white wingbars high up in one of the poplars.  It wasn't the best view, but it was most definitely my first Least Flycatcher in the Victoria checklist area!

My dad didn't really get a great view of the bird before it flew to the north end of the farm.  I listened for it to sing again and determined it was half way down the north line of poplars.  Then it stopped singing for a bit and when it restarted, it was over in the kiwi farm kitty corner to us.  We crossed over to it and there my dad was able to briefly observe the Least as it sat on a drooping kiwi vine about 10 metres away at eye level.  What a great bird to add and it didn't quite make my cut for the top five next expected species.  It was pretty close and I debated putting it on over Pink-footed Shearwater and Long-tailed Jaeger because I don't do much in the way of "pelagic" birding here.

I don't have any audio files or photos to support this blog entry, so I will have to make up for it with a photo extravaganza soon.  Photos would have been miserable anyways due to the low light conditions.  Knowing this is a new Victoria bird for me, I will do the standard update on my progress towards 300 species in the checklist area.  The Least Flycatcher is my 294th species and it was actually a tiebreaker for me to jump back ahead of Jeremy Kimm.  I probably fretted at his progress over the past few years as he quickly closed the gap and then momentarily passed me.  At the same time, I knew he was adding species I hadn't seen and it was only a matter of time before I recouped those losses.  Mission accomplished!  If that sounds extremely competitive, it's actually all in good fun.  We congratulate each other genuinely when we add new birds to our Victoria checklist and JK even prods me to hurry up and get my Grey Jay already.  I think we both enjoy the friendly competitive edge and schoolyard maturity taunting.  So... bring on the next one!

Conquering a Nemesis: Say's Phoebe and Tiny Picnic Tables

Spring has firmly been established for over a week now, with Yellow-rumped Warblers singing, Violet-green and Tree Swallows darting over lakes, and the whir of Rufous Hummingbird wings.  If I'm in Victoria and these sights and sounds are all around, I know it's time to hit open areas to look for Mountain Bluebirds and my nemesis grail Say's Phoebe.  Say's Phoebe has a predictable spring passage window, much more so than the fall, but where it shows up is the hard part.  There is an abundance of open areas, so you're left with checking ones that traditionally turn up Mountain Bluebirds and have had Say's Phoebe records in the past or else just crossing your fingers and hoping the stars align.

On Saturday, March 29, the stars aligned in all sorts of ways.  I probably earned some karma points by dropping off "A Bird-Finding Guide to Mexico" to Jeremy K. bright and early in the morning.  I forgot he was taking off that day to Vancouver to stay the night before flying off to Cancun, so it was probably a nice surprise for him when I showed up at his door with the guide in the morning.  I was just going to stay on the Saanich Peninsula, but I opted to do my Metchosin run since I was already out in Colwood.  I took the Veterans Memorial Parkway and then turned on to Latoria Rd., which cuts through the old gravel pits.  This area had a Mountain Bluebird a few weeks ago, so I figured I would check all fences, posts, wires, and other assorted perches as I made my way to Metchosin Rd.  The first bird that stood out was a singing White-crowned Sparrow, which I decided to stop and photograph.

White-crowned Sparrow announcing its presence: "Oooh-eee cheddar cheddar cheese!"

As I walked back to hop in the car, I was serenaded by the song of a Western Meadowlark sitting on top of one of the hydro poles.  I got in the car and continued rolling along down Latoria Rd. and then promptly pulled back off to the side of the road.  A bird was sitting on a powerline on the north side of the road and my initial thought was that it was perhaps the same Mountain Bluebird from a few weeks ago and it had just eluded detection.  A look through the binoculars pushed that thought aside and after some mental contortion, I was nervously excited at the prospect of it being a Say's Phoebe.  The bird then did some aerial acrobatics before landed on a large rock, revealing a perfect profile view of a Say's Phoebe!  The pale ashy upper parts and ochre-washed belly were radiant in the morning sun.  I sprang into action with my camera and the bird was quite obliging.  A mound of dead broom was one of the favoured spots of the phoebe in the morning and it also provided a visually attractive perch for photos.

A shot of my freshly conquered nemesis bird: the Say's Phoebe!

The stars had aligned and I had knocked down a major Victoria nemesis bird!  Now I had a new dilemma.  How do I spread the word about the Say's Phoebe?  I currently don't own a cell phone and I was a long ways from home.  My mind raced with all sorts of options.  Should I head back to Jeremy K.'s place and get Thea to contact him at work?  That didn't seem like a great option, so I thought I would try heading to Eastern Phoebe spot and hopefully I would find a birder with a cell phone there.  Well, connecting with the Say's apparently didn't drain all my karma and I miraculously found Rob Gowan just around the corner.  He was looking for a Mountain Bluebird that had, unbeknownst to me, been reported a couple days earlier.  Rob was turning around and heading towards Latoria Rd., but I didn't want to chance anything.  I hurriedly pulled off to the side, jumped out, and ran down the road like a crazy person, waving my arms trying to get his attention.  It worked!

We drove back on to Latoria and I pulled off a short distance from where I had last seen the phoebe.  We quickly found it and then we decided we should get our cameras.  More photos were taken, and here is one.

Say's Phoebes have subdued colours but the warmth of that ochre belly make them a subtly attractive bird.

While trying to follow the Say's Phoebe as it moved around, Rob spotted a couple of Mountain Bluebirds on the south side of the road.  I looked over and realized there was actually three, then four, then five... and finally, six Mountain Bluebirds!  Two of the bluebirds were impossibly bright males.  For some reason, I decided to stop taking photos at this point, so I have no shots of the bluebirds.  At any rate, it wasn't long before the message that Rob had spread to BCVIBIRDS had birders dropping everything to come out for a slice of the interior.  First it was Heather Trondsen, then Cathy O'Connor, and finally Gordon Hart.  I sincerely enjoy meeting new birders and reconnecting with others I haven't seen in a while, so I enjoyed getting to share the phoebe with four birders in short order.

Just before noon, I decided I better head back home because I was going to get out for more birding in the early afternoon with Ian Cruickshank and Avery Bartels.  I had never met Avery but had heard nothing but good things, so it was great to finally meet and go birding with him and Ian.  We started with a quick check over Maber Flats before Ian started getting a little antsy about the Say's Phoebe and Mountain Bluebirds.  We made our way back out to gravel pits and as we pulled up to the area, we saw Mike and Barb McGrenere.  We figured if the phoebe was still around, they would know roughly where to look.  We got the encouraging word that it was there a couple minutes earlier and it wasn't long before Barb spotted it on a wire.  As we were switching our focus between the phoebe and the bluebirds, I noticed a bird in a patch of broom that had white corners to its tail.  That was really all I got on it, but it was tantalizing enough that we stayed trained on the area.  Soon, Avery proclaimed that it was a Palm Warbler!  The bird proved to be quite tricky to get good looks at, but eventually we all had decent views.

A second wave of birders poured in at this point.  First, Cathy Carlson pulled up and we quickly got her on the Say's Phoebe.  She let me know that she was very excited and thankful that I got the word out because the phoebe was a lifer for her!  Those are the kind of words that make my day!  Next, the Newell clan emerged from a car and we were able to show them the two stars, but the Palm Warbler was not showing any more.  No bother... an immature Golden Eagle rose up and put on an incredible show!  We watched the Golden Eagle casually soar back and forth against a backdrop of trees on the south side of Latoria, showing off its white tail base and pale flashes on the wings every time it banked.  As if getting to watch the eagle soaring around wasn't enough, it landed on a rock ledge and all scopes were focused on it.  The golden nape is a feature I rarely get to see because I usually see Golden Eagles soaring, so this was incredible!

We were then joined by Cathy Reader and Rebecca Reader-Lee and efforts were then focused on getting them on all of the birds.  It was starting to seem customary to find a new bird with each new addition to the birding fleet, so I decided to check an intriguing grey bird sitting up on some very distant broom.  The bird had a tall profile and I really thought it had to be a Townsend's Solitaire.  I got Ian to check the bird and he agreed - the micro Patagonia Picnic Table Effect was strong on this day!  I also got Cathy Carlson on the bird and Avery seemed to just get a glimpse of it with binoculars before we lost its exact location.  The solitaire was spotted when it next flew, but it ended up behind a patch of broom.  I was focusing on where it was going to go next and then an American Robin hopped out of the broom.  Did both Ian and I greatly misinterpret the bird based on the distance and angle?  "There's the solitarie!" someone excitedly called out.  The Townsend's Solitaire sat up on dead mullein stems long enough for everyone to get decent views.  Unfortunately, Heather Trondsen came back just a little too late for the solitaire - it was all a blur, so perhaps that's not true - but she was able to get more great looks at the bluebirds and see the Golden Eagle in action, too.  What a great gathering of birds and birders in one place!

The afternoon session at the Latoria gravel pits was one of the greatest birding moments for me in recent memory.  The combination of five uncommon to rare species, the number of birders in attendance, and just the amount of fun everyone was having made this event the perfect kickoff to spring.  Thanks to everyone who came out to enjoy the spectacle!

Phoetos: Shots of Victoria's First Eastern Phoebe

After a great morning of birding, I stopped in at the abandoned Aquattro development lot to see if the Eastern Phoebe was still around.  The phoebe, to my knowledge, had not been reported since March 12 but I figured the effort dropped off the chart after most people saw the bird.  After spending 15 minutes looking at the usual suspects, I heard the phoebe's distinctive "chip" call coming from the edge of the main pond.  My eyes traced the edge of the pond, looking in the low vegetation for the source of the call.  It took just a few seconds to spy a plain-chested bird sitting low in an alder over the water.

Unlike my last encounter with the Eastern Phoebe, I was able to watch this bird at leisure for around half an hour as it moved around the pond, then traveled along the stream to the west before moving on to the western ponds.  Getting photos was a challenge, but I managed some shots that are pretty good.  I am glad Victoria's first documented Eastern Phoebe appears to be in good health and is actively hawking insects more than three weeks after news first broke about this bird.

Eastern Phoebe on March 22, 2014 at the abandoned Aquattro lot near Esquimalt Lagoon

Eastern Phoebe on March 22, 2014 at the abandoned Aquattro lot near Esquimalt Lagoon

Eastern Phoebe on March 22, 2014 at the abandoned Aquattro lot near Esquimalt Lagoon

Eastern Phoebe on March 22, 2014 at the abandoned Aquattro lot near Esquimalt Lagoon

Eastern Phoebe on March 22, 2014 at the abandoned Aquattro lot near Esquimalt Lagoon

A DICK and a HOOR: The Longest, Hardest, Wettest Twitch

Back on December 5th, I received an e-mail from Port McNeill resident Jackie Hildering about a bird that she thought might be a Hooded Oriole.  It's a good thing I was sitting on a couch because the attached photo would have knocked me to the floor if I was on a chair or stool!  The extremely crisp, full-frame shot showed a healthy, vibrant male Hooded Oriole in winter plumage.  After a few days of correspondence with Jackie, it appeared like the Hooded Oriole was setting up shop in the neighbourhood along Broughton Ave.

The birders were slow to trickle in to the area to search for this exotic stray from the south.  Christopher Stephens made the run up from the Parksville area on December 17th and was rewarded not only with the Hooded Oriole but also a first-winter Harris' Sparrow.  The plot thickened on December 28th when Alex Gray made the trip up to view the oriole and miraculously pulled a Dickcissel out of a flock of House Sparrows!

I was far too busy in the beginning of December to zip up for the Hooded Oriole and I became downright antsy about the situation when the Dickcissel was added to the suite of good birds in Port McNeill while I was in Ontario for three weeks over the holidays.  I was biting my nails for a week and a half hoping that the provincial rarity duo would stick around until I returned.  Finally, as the end of my eastern swing was approaching, a plan was hatched to head up with Jeremy Kimm and Kevin Neill.

Today was the day our plan came to fruition.  I met with Jeremy K. at 6:30 a.m. and we met Kevin at the Departure Bay ferry terminal shortly after 8:00 a.m.  Our back-and-forth e-mails leading into this twitch made it evident that our target birds would be a source of lowbrow humour due to their unfortunate four-letter codes.  Yes... we were looking for a DICK and HOOR and the jokes were writing themselves.

The next four hours were the hardest part of any twitch.  We had to cover 350 km before we even had a chance of finding the sought-after vagrants.  The stretch from Nanaimo to Campbell River went by quickly, but the roads became a little dicey along higher-elevation stretches as snow flurries carpeted the highway.  Jeremy K. handled those sections nicely and we reached Port McNeill in the early afternoon, a little later than expected due to the poor weather.

The flurries seen in the higher passes were replaced by driving rain in Port McNeill.  We donned our rain gear and braved the optics-unfriendly weather.  We immediately heard House Sparrows but were momentarily distracted by the Yellow-rumped Warbler that has been frequenting the same hummingbird feeders as the Hooded Oriole.  When we tracked down the flock of House Sparrows, it was not long until a yellow-washed bird was spotted in the mix.  If I had to weight our targets, the Dickcissel held a higher priority because Kevin had already been up for the oriole and Jeremy K. had found a female Hooded Oriole in late September.  The Dickcissel was actually a lifer for Jeremy K. and a BC bird for Kevin.  The Hooded Oriole actually held a higher allure to me because I had never seen one in North America, whereas Dickcissel was only a BC bird for me.  Before we really had a chance to soak in good views of the Dickcissel, it flew off with the rest of the House Sparrows.

I headed back to watch the oriole-approved hummingbird feeders for a while and after 15 minutes I decided to walk further along Broughton Blvd. in hopes of connecting with the oriole or reconnecting with the Dickcissel.  I only managed a Eurasian Collared-Dove  for my effort and as I made my way back I saw Kevin excitedly motioning for me to come back.  The oriole was at the feeders and the Dickcissel was back where we originally spotted it.  What an amazing Patagonia Picnic Table Effect for one little neighbourhood on northern Vancouver Island in the winter!

Despite our observations being hampered by the non-stop hard rain, we had great views of both target birds.  My hands were chilled and the light was horrible, but I decided I would still do my best to photograph the Dickcissel.  The Hooded Oriole was a little too far to bother even getting a record shot, but I figured I could manage some so-so Dickcissel shots.

The yellow accents in the supercilium and malar, yellow wash down the chest, and chestnut patch on the shoulder made this Dickcissel stand out from the House Sparrows it is travelling among.

The Dickcissel above a pair of House Sparrows, for comparison.

Kevin and Jeremy K. were focusing their efforts on warming up and drying off and I was certainly ready to do the same after spending over five minutes without gloves photographing the Dickcissel.  We had a leisurely lunch at Gus' Pub, popped in for a rather fruitless scan off the Cluxewe River Estuary, and then headed back south.  I left my place at 6:15 a.m. and got back at 9:30 p.m., which made for one of the longest twitches I've ever done.  The recipe for a great twitch is good company and success finding the targets.  Needless to say, this was a great twitch!  Now I am just hoping something interesting will turn up over on the Lower Mainland so we can do it all again with Kevin in the driver's seat!

Jingle Bell Rock... Wren

Christmas came a little early on the seasonally appropriate Christmas Hill!  On December 11, a birder by the name of Courtney Cameron photographed an interesting wren near the summit of Christmas Hill and she wondered whether it was a Rock Wren.  There is always that moment where you're not quite sure what you're about to see as you check a photo of a possible rarity.  In this case, the very nice photo did not result in a cringe - it was a classic Rock Wren!

I have been quite busy over the past week or so and there wasn't a daylight moment to spare until today.  Even today was a little slim for time, but I decided I wanted decompress with a little bit of rarity chasing.  When I arrived, I dashed along the trail and bounded up rock steps to get up to the top as quickly as possible.  I bumped into Mike Ashbee on the hill and he hadn't had luck connecting with the wren.  We chatted while covering ground and soon found our party size doubled, with Warren Lee and his daughter Rebecca hoping to spy the rare wren from the interior.

We tried fanning out and it was starting to look like we were going to dip on the wren that likes to dip on rocks.  Mike and I made our way to the southwest corner of the hilltop and suddenly a buffy wren darted up from a little gap in a rock outcrop and started bobbing on a patch of moss.  "That's it!" I exclaimed and I immediately looked around for Warren and Rebecca.  They weren't in sight, but I figured they were likely right at the main summit.  Mike kept tabs on the wren and I hustled up to the top and found them moping about and gave them the secret hand signals to indicate the wren had been found - for the record, the signals included a closed fist resting on an open hand for "rock" and both hands being lowered as fingers fluttered for "rain".  It seemed close enough and got the point across.

We all followed the wren around for the next half an hour or so as it actively fed and bobbed up on top of rock outcrop peaks.  It was an extremely cooperative bird and we all enjoyed watching this charismatic, wayward wren do its thing.

Rock Wren with lots of mosses and lichens to pick through for food

Like I said... cooperative!

One last shot of the Rock Wren on Christmas Hill

For some awe-inspiring shots, stop in at Mike Ashbee's photography page to see his shots of the Rock Wren and much more.

The Cattle Point Entrance Oaks Effect

Why not start our own local version of the Patagonia Picnic Table Effect?  For those not familiar with the phenomenon, it apparently spans back to a rest area in Patagonia back in 1971.  Some birders stopped in for lunch and ended up finding the first record of Black-capped Gnatcatcher north of Mexico.  A swarm of birders descended on this little rest area and consequently turned up the first North American record of Yellow Grosbeak, as well.  The Patagonia Picnic Table Effect now refers to any instance where an unusual bird is reported and those looking for the rarity turn up another stray.

This phenomenon occurred locally on November 1st when Ian Cruickshank put out the word that he had briefly observed a Tropical Kingbird (Tyrannus melancholicus) in the oaks at the entrance to Cattle Point.  Several birders quickly launched into action to try to relocate the kingbird.  Steven Roias tried in vain to find this once-every-couple-years rarity from the south, but he did find a tern feeding just offshore.  He jotted down some detailed notes on the bird and left thinking it was just a Common Tern (Sterna hirundo), which is actually a decent bird here these days.  When he got home and broke out a field guide, he realized all the features he had seen did not add up for Common and were bang on for an Elegant Tern (Thalasseus elegans)!

Elegant Tern on the rocks off Bowker Ave. in Oak Bay, taken on November 2, 2012 (Photo: Daniel Donnecke)

The next morning, Daniel Donnecke and Val George were on scene and managed to relocate the Elegant Tern on the rocks at the end of Bowker Ave.  This news made me very anxious because I was working and the feeling was so overwhelming that I buckled and went out to search for the bird.  I decided to head right to Bowker Ave.  When I arrived just over an hour after the morning report, not a soul was in sight.  I raised by binoculars and scanned over to Cattle Point and could see a scope set up and a group milling around it.  I hopped back in the car and raced over to the point.  I was greeted by Aziza Cooper who said the bird had flown south and seemingly landed behind one of the islands.  I looked over at the rest of the group and they were intently looking at something.  Barb McGrenere waved over to me and I thought it was just a "hello" wave, but then Mike McGrenere announced "The tern's over here!"  I darted over and set up the scope just in time to not see the tern.  So I played the waiting game.  I waited for over an hour and kept checking my watch.  I had intended to be back at work at 1 p.m. and that time was approaching rapidly.  I decided to cut my losses at Cattle Point and put in quick check at Spoon Bay and Cadboro Bay, the latter being the assumed destination of the tern as it went out of view to the north.

I scanned the rocks in Spoon Bay and checked every passing Bonaparte's Gull (Chroicocephalus philadelphia), but no sign of the tern.  I was going to head to Gyro Beach, but as I passed Loon Bay I noticed several Bonies and figured it was worth a check.  A scan out beyond Loon Bay into Cadboro Bay revealed a lone adult Snow Goose (Chen caerulescens), but again no tern.  I was starting to pack up when I noticed multiple birders that I had been chatting with at Cattle Point had decided to check here as well.  I went over to let them know about the goose and realized I could see a whole new sliver of water from where they were standing.  I set up the scope again as a last ditch effort.  As I scanned out over Cadboro Bay, a bird with a black crown flew through my field of view and I excitedly proclaimed "I've got the tern!"  Everyone there managed to observe the tern circling for half a minute before we lost sight of it as it headed back south towards Cattle Point.  After celebratory high fives or verbal equivalents, I had to get back to work.  I left very happy as Elegant Tern was my 289th Victoria checklist area bird.  Still knocking them down ever so slowly!

So how rare were the two birds involved in the Cattle Point Entrance Oaks Effect?  Tropical Kingbirds are annual in British Columbia and one is seemingly turned up approximately every second year in Victoria.  They are almost certainly annual, but there might be a lack of focused searching in appropriate habitats for this species from mid-October through November.  Elegant Terns, on the other hand, are typically reported during El Niño years.  There is no regular pattern to El Niños, so it can't be predicted when Elegant Terns might put in an appearance in our waters.  Previous records in the Victoria checklist area are surprisingly numerous, but they are the result of several reports in certain El Niño years.  Using the E-Fauna "British Columbia Rare Bird Records" document, Elegant Terns were reported in 1983 (5 records), 1992 (7 records), 1993 (1 record), and 2008 (2 records), with some records potentially referring to the same bird or birds.

The 2012 record of Elegant Tern is anomalously late and may be in part due to a weak El Niño that really started showing effects in September.  Elegant Terns breed in southern California and Mexico and then have a brief northbound dispersal.  The late summer arrival of Heermann's Gulls (Larus heermanni) in our waters is due to a similar pattern.  Elegant Terns typically only head as far north as northern California before they turn back south and head to South American shores from Peru to Chile.  The warmer ocean temperatures during El Niño years draw southern marine life northward, and Elegants Terns follow suit with this trend.

I was more interested in catching up with the Elegant Tern because the really pronounced El Niño years occurred before I was in the habit of consistently chasing rarities.  As a result, I haven't had much of a chance to see one locally.  I was, however, fortunate enough to see my lifer Tropical Kingbird way back in 1998 at Esquimalt Lagoon.  I certainly wouldn't have passed up a view of the Tropical Kingbird that Ian found, but I can wait for the next one or just be content with the hundreds I've seen in the Neotropics.

I'll just wrap this up with a congratulatory note to Ian Cruickshank for finding the Tropical Kingbird and initiating the Cattle Point Entrance Oaks Effect, and Steven Roias for completing the phenomenon with his sharp eyes and detailed notes leading to the identification of the Elegant Tern.  What's next?  The Swan Lake Lollipop Boardwalk Bonanza?  The Esquimalt Lagoon Hump Hoedown?  The Whiffin Spit Breakwater Blitz?  The Island View Beach Boat Launchapalooza?  Whatever goes down, I look forward to catching up with familiar faces and sharing some laughs.