Listing Through Life

morus bassanus

Jacksonville, Florida – Kathryn Abbey Hanna Park

Wednesday, March 26, 2005 – 2:00 pm

Northern Gannets are common off the coast of Florida. The only question is whether one comes close enough to shore to be identified. They’re a large seabird, with long, narrow wings and pointed tail and head/bill. The wings are white with black triangles at the tips. Their most distinguishing feature is the way they feed, with fast plunges at full speed into the water for fish.

Wednesday was a frustrating day. To begin with, I had to drive 180 degrees around Jacksonville to get from where I was staying to where I wanted to bird. I spent the morning looking for Seaside Sparrows at several locations where they’d been seen recently, with a notable lack of success. I’d pretty much exhausted the birding opportunities in the area, but still have half a day to go. My niece had mentioned this park as a possible place to check out, and it was close. So that’s where I went.

There are several access points to the Atlantic Ocean beach, and the one I picked at random had a covered picnic shelter on a dune looking over the water. I decided to take advantage of the shade to relax and look for gannets. I pulled out my new scope and checked out every bird flying up and down the shore. After perhaps a half hour, I spotted one that I thought might be a gannet. It even made a dive. But it was way out and disappeared before I’d convinced myself.

I sent another half hour sorting through the gulls, terns, and Brown Pelicans, which can look surprisingly white in the midday sun. Eventually I spotted another candidate. It headed generally from south to north, circling, dipping, and flapping. In the five minutes or so that I had it in my view, it wheeled in such a way that I could see the bright white wings with black triangles. I could also see a long white tail and a long head/bill. It was too far out for me to clearly distinguish between the head and the bill, but I definitely saw yellow on more than one occasion, which is the color of an adult gannet’s head. On two occasions, it made one of its plunge dives, and several other times it began a dive but then pulled up.

It moved toward the north until it reached a point a little beyond where I was, then began drifting and circling back south until I lost sight of it. It helped that there were many gulls, terns, and pelicans in the area to compare it with, and I have no doubt it was a gannet, although it was way too far out and moving too much to attempt a photo.

pavo cristatus

Fort George Island Cultural State Park, Florida – Ribault Club

Tuesday, March 25, 2025 – 8:52 am

Your basic peacock. Apparently, a population has established itself in the “wild” in Florida and has survived long enough to become countable on bird lists. It wasn’t a big goal of mine, but since I was in the area …

The Ribault Club is a resort from the 1920s, restored as part of a state park and open for events and weddings. Except on the day I was there. It’s also a place where peafowl are reported regularly. The parking lot was open, so I figured it was OK for me to walk the grounds. I wasn’t out of the car for a minute before I heard a peacock give it screeching cry. A minute later I found it – on the roof the building. We stood and looked at each other for a few minutes, and then I wandered the grounds looking for other birds.

Perhaps 45 minutes later, I saw the peacock strolling across the grass under the trees. I stood where I could get decent photos as it passed within three feet of me on its way down to the shore. It’s an impressive bird, even if seeing one involved no challenge whatsoever.

charadrius wilsonia

Jekyll Island, Georgia – South Beach

Monday, March 24, 2025 – 3:29 pm

I was definitely on the lookout for Wilson’s Plovers, especially after a half-mile section of the beach was roped off with signs every 50 yards that said it was a Wilson’s Plover breeding area. Seconds after I first saw the oystercatchers, I spotted a Wilson’s running along the sand near the rope. It stopped next to a pile of beach debris and stood and watched me walk past.

Later, on my way back down the beach, I spotted it again, and then several more, including two that were chasing each other in what I assume was courtship. They acted like typical plovers, running and stopping. And they looked like typical plovers, with brown backs, white colors, and a black band across the chest. The bill was black a longer and sturdier than that of other plovers. I heard a couple of them give their sharp call.

haematopus palliatus

Jekyll Island, Georgia – South Beach

Monday, March 24, 2025 – 3:27 pm

Whenever I told someone I was going to the coast to look for lifers, I would explain that I’d never seen, for example, an American Oystercatcher. It felt like a hole in the list

After leaving the visitor center, I paid my $7 toll and drove out to the island. I headed for the south tip of the island, and, after a few wrong attempts to find a place to park that would allow me to access the southern tip of the island, I was on my way. It was about a mile walk to the end of the beach. There were tons of gulls, terns, skimmers, and shorebirds around, and as soon as I turned the corner at the tip, I spotted six Oystercatchers standing with some Laughing Gulls right at the water’s edge. They were silhouetted by the sun, so I walked past them so I could get some decent photos. For the half hour I remained in the area, they didn’t do much other than stand and stare or tuck their bills into their back feathers and sleep.

They were large — very close in size to the Laughing Gulls. with brown backs, white bellies, black heads, huge orange bills, and pink legs. Later in the week, I saw two foraging along a rock jetty and in the nearby sand at Huguenot Memorial Park and others in the distance on Dauphin Island in Alabama.

rallus longirostris

Jekyll Island, Georgia – Jekyll Island Guest Information Center

Monday, March 24, 2025 – 2:35 pm

The Jekyll Island visitor center (gift shop, actually) sits on a wide space along the causeway out to the island. Behind the building there’s a raised deck that looks out over an extensive marsh along the Turtle River. As the tide came in, many shorebirds flew in from further out in the marsh and hung out on the flats near the platform. Another birder, a Wisconsin native who spends his winters on the island, came by, and we began to chat.  I told him that I’d been informed that that was THE PLACE to see Clapper Rails. He didn’t agree, although he said they were certainly in the marsh.

A couple of minutes later, I saw a Clapper Rail break out of the reeds along a narrow channel through the mud. It flew across the water, landed on the mud on the far side, and scurried immediately into the marsh grasses on the other side. I barely had time to get it in my binoculars but certainly didn’t have time to take a photo. When I told the other birder, he played the song, and immediately two others called out, one of which was somewhere just below the platform. I didn’t see one again then, or later in the evening when I stopped by on my way back to my hotel.

The Wisconsin birder told me I could get a photo at Driftwood Beach, on the island, early in the morning, so I made sure I was there shortly after dawn. I parked my car and began walking toward the trail when a Clapper Rail ran across the road into a marsh on the other side. I walked a short way down the trail and soon saw two Clappers wading along the edge of a grassy channel. The walked right past me, not five feet away and perhaps two feet below the level I was standing on. I got some good photos of one of them, and then some more photos of one that walked along a muddy bank on the other side of the path. I spotted what I believe was a fifth one nearby a few minutes later.

They were larger than a Virginia Rail, but with basically the same markings, although the markings were not nearly as sharp or contrasting. They poked under the water with their bills as they stalked furtively in rail fashion. They even acted furtive when they were right out in the open. Frequently, they gave their clapping calls, often in response between two birds.