Nature Note #123: All Terned Around in Cape May

All puns aside, this is a post about the Whiskered Tern (Chlidonias hybridus) (sort of) and my visit to Cape May on Sunday. After working all last week and seeing report after report of this Code 5 Whiskered Tern at the state park at Cape May Point, I made the 2 1/2 hour journey from Horsham to Cape May and started my quest for the tern. After arriving at 10:45am and asking around at the hawkwatch platform, I was dismayed to find out that it had been visiting regularly in the afternoon instead. Despite this setback, I decided to comb the park for some year birds instead. I didn't have to wait long as I secured two Little Blue Herons (Egretta caerulea) and a Pied-billed Grebe (Podilymbus podiceps) on Bunker Pond, as well as a Blue-winged Teal (Anas discors) on the nearby ponds. The skies and bushes were filled with the sounds of nature. Overhead migrating raptors like Ospreys (Pandion haliaetus), an immature Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus), and soaring Turkey Vultures, plied the skies with ease. The bushes surged with the flap and buzz of insects and the trees rang with the gritting, rolling chorus of the Scissor-grinder Cicadas (Tibucen pruinosa), while Monarchs (Danaus plexippus) and Buckeyes (Junonia coenia) flitting over the sandy trails feeding on the abundant wildflower's offerings of nectar.

After photographing many a Buckeye chasing rivals and sunning themselves, I returned my attention to the birds. The ponds were brimming with waterfowl with Mallards (A. platyrhynchos) and Mute Swans (Cygnus olor) being the most numerous. Others included a group of American Wigeon (A. americana) with their ruddy flanks, some dapper and svelte Northern Pintails (A. acuta), and a single Gadwall (A. strepera). Eventually some loud honking filled the skies and a few flocks of Pennsylvania's unofficial state bird landed on the ponds. Nearby, a Great Egret (Ardea alba) stalked its scaly prey with patience and grace.

Northern Pintail female

Green-winged Teal (Anas crecca), Blue-winged Teal, and a Mallard on one of the back ponds.

It was a perfect wetland scene, but I wondered quietly whether the tern had made its presence known yet. I glanced at my watch.

"Only 11:45", I mouthed, unsurprised. I resolved to keep walking around until early afternoon and then ask again to see if the bird would return. I walked some back trails behind the ponds and looked for some warblers. No luck there, so I started to head back towards the beach. By this point it was nearly midday, so I settled down to eat my lunch. The cicadas were unceasing in their chorus and serenaded me as I ate my homemade lasagne. After finishing my meal, I walked around on the blue and yellow trails and nearly got lost, so I decided to double-back towards the ponds and eventually the beach.

After hiking along the sand (and scaring a few ghost crabs back into their holes), I came upon a posse of birders keeping close watch on a mixed flock of gulls and terns on the beach. Feeling a leaping joy in my heart, as I wandered over and asked if they'd seen the tern. They hadn't, but were hopeful that it would return to the beach soon. I decided to join their stakeout of the flock and watched the sea with them. The flock consisted mainly of Laughing Gulls (Leucophaeus atricilla), Common (Sterna hirundo) and Forster's Terns (S. forsteri), the occasional Royal Tern (Thalasseus maximus) (another year bird for me), and eventually three immature Black Skimmers (Rynchops niger) (an unexpected year bird for me). They hung out preening, stamping their little feet, and were occasionally pressed into flight due to errant beach goers, small children chasing them, and at least two runaway beach umbrellas.

 
As we watched, I noticed terns over the ocean then doing something unexpected. A small flock of 40 or 50 landed on the ocean. I was stunned. I'd never seen them do that and while I was aware that they had webbed feet, I always presumed they were just accessories or similar in structure to those semipalmated shorebirds. They looked vaguely like aquatic pterodactyls with their long wings and tails pointing skyward as they floated on the waves. 

 

After watching the flock come and go, form and reform, and as dark clouds hung overhead, I wondered if the bird would come at all. I had wanted to hit other locations for year birds while in Cape May and decided to head to some nearby birding hotspots instead. I said goodbye to the now dwindling number of flock watchers and made my way over to South Cape May Meadows (or as it is known on eBird Cape May Migratory Bird Refuge). After a five minute drive, I got out and made my way around the main trail. The trail looped around a pond and surrounding marsh system that had featured common shorebirds on migration as well as harder to find White-rumped (Calidris fuscicollis) and Stilt Sandpipers (C. himantopus) in recent weeks. While walking the loop, I found another group of year birds: Northern Shovelers (A. clypeata) dabbling in the muddy shallows of the main pond. As I rounded the bend near the beach, more Turkey Vultures appeared and flew over the trees. I really would love to experience what they experience when they soar over our altered landscapes in search of pre-ground roadkill and other offal, but unless reincarnation exists or some futuristic mind transfer thing, it's not likely to happen.

After moving from thoughts about Turkey Vultures to thoughts about shorebirds, I spied a small flock of them near the viewing platform. It appeared to be a mixed species flock and as I sneaked closer, I could seen Lesser Yellowlegs (Tringa flavipes), two Semipalmated Plovers (Charadrius semipalmatus), and several Pectoral Sandpipers (C. melanotos), as well as a smattering of Least (C. minutilla) and Semipalmated Sandpipers (C. pusilla). However, there were five grayish shorebirds with long legs, a sewing machine feeding style, and whitish eyebrows foraging nearby. They turned out to be the Stilt Sandpipers that I had been looking for!

"Lifer!" It was a good feeling as I snapped photos of them. They didn't seem to mind the attention and were too consumed with the act of fueling up for their long journey ahead.

A cluster of shorebirds including Semipalmated and Pectoral Sandpipers, and two Semipalmated Plovers.

Looking like a cross between a dowitcher and a yellowlegs, Stilt Sandpipers feed by probing in repeated motions into mud and feeding on small invertebrates and crustaceans.

The easiest way to remember what a Pectoral Sandpiper looks like is to imagine that it's a Least Sandpiper on steroids.

After getting one lifer, I felt like my luck was changing and decided to head to one last location before heading home. I had read on eBird that there had been Red Knots (C. canutus) reported within the week at Stone Harbor Point and wanted to check it out. I walked steadily back to the parking lot, but not before snapping some photos of some mating insects on the abundant goldenrod and an unknown skipper on the path.

According to a Google search and subsequent visit to bugguide.net, these beetles are called Pennsylvania Leatherwings (Chauliognathus pensylvanicus)

Half an hour later, I arrived at Stone Harbor Point for the knots. Except, there weren't any. A light mist was covering most of the beach and even though there were shorebirds present, they turned out to be more Semipalmated Sandpipers and Sanderlings (C. alba). While disappointed at not being able to find this nemesis shorebird, I did get one last surprise. As I was photographing the Sanderlings jogging to and from the ocean, a large white bird with a crimson bill flew over my head. Grabbing my 10x42s, I looked up to see another year bird. Not one, but two Caspian Terns (Hydroprogne caspia) scanning the waters for fish! I snapped several photos and smiled. I might not have gotten Mr. (or Mrs.) Whiskers, but I had gotten so much more.

A third year Lesser Black-backed Gull (Larus fuscus) also made an appearance at Stone Harbor Beach.

As I began the nearly 2 hour drive back, I spied one last year bird as I passed over the Stone Harbor Causeway. A blue-backed, white-bellied heron flew in the opposite direction over the marsh. The bird was a Tricolored Heron (E. tricolor). I smiled and knew it was a great end to a great day.