Bird-Watching on Dry Tortuga
Unique species soar over Fort Jefferson in the morning sun.
Here it is! The exciting Birding Post that everyone has been waiting for!
When I was growing up in Connecticut, there was a tree branch not 10 feet from my bedside window, and I could just lie in bed looking out at the birds who congregated there. So when we moved back to Connecticut, we set up a station of binoculars and bird identification books by the window near our bird feeder. A two-year-old Will could quite impress his grandmother by naming cardinals, tufted titmouses, sparrows, blue jays, mourning doves, and black-capped chickadees.
As part of our adventures, Kristin organized a camping trip for us in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico on an island chain called Dry Tortugas. While mainly known for the ruins of the Civil War-era Fort Jefferson, it turns out that the Dry Tortugas is one of the premier birding spots in the Western Hemisphere, if not the world.
I enthusiastically packed my Kaufman and Peterson guides, along with binoculars for me and the kids.
It is as good as advertised! It was also nesting season, so in addition to the very small contingent of overnight campers, we also had several scientists staying in tents right next to us -- they get special access to some of the nearby keys that are off limits to everyone else this time of year.
Bush Key is closed to visitors (except scientists) during nesting season as thousands of sooty terns lay eggs in the sand. Luckily for campers, the unholy bird-squawk racket quiets at night.
Final report: In 24 hours I saw six different bird species -- five of which I had never seen before, and two of which nest (as far as scientists can tell) ONLY on the Dry Tortugas and nowhere else in the world. The only birds familiar to me were mourning doves, several of whom hang out by our bird feeder in Connecticut to catch the seeds the sparrows kick out for them.
A male magnificent frigatebird in search of a mate.
New species were: the Ruddy Turnstone (a beach runner that looks a bit like a plover or sandpiper), Brown Pelicans (very similar to the White one farther north, only more brown), Magnificent Frigatebirds (huge, with 90" wingspans, the males with a red throat pouch. Kristin took an awesome picture of a male who was inflating his throat pouch to show off for the girls), and the two that only seem to nest on the island: the Sooty Tern and the Brown Noddy.
The excitement of finding new species on Dry Tortugas proves too much for Callie. (The unrelenting sun may also have been a factor.)
And as a special bonus, on our way back on Islamorada in the Keys, I spotted a sixth new (to me) species -- the Eurasian Collar Dove! Native to the Old World, it was accidentally introduced to Florida in the 1980s. Whee!
An important aside based on several years of trial and error: There are many bird books out there. Many consider Peterson's the Bible, and perhaps it is. However, I have had much better luck with Kaufman's Guide.
Kenn Kaufman was once an editor at Peterson's but thankfully decided to design a brand-new field guide. His illustrations are slightly better than other guides, but most importantly, his physical descriptions of tell-tale markings are a major improvement over other guides (many of which "helpfully" guide you to distinguish birds by pointing out that one species calls "tra-tra-tra-la-la" while another sounds more like "trill-trill-trilla.")
The preferred bird guide of the Zisson household.
Also, Kaufman's has a major innovation in that the maps with ranges are right next to the bird descriptions rather than in an appendix. Before finding Kaufman's I leafed through many different pages to convince myself I had seen a certain type of bird -- only to find it was only present in, say, Alaska, when finally checking the appendix. Lastly, his index is much more user friendly than other books.
Brown pelican perched outside Fort Jefferson, Dry Tortugas National Park
