Friday the 13th

13 December 2019

FRIDAY THE 13^th

The day started off eerily. There was a heavy fog blanketing the coast, making visibility on the water all but impossible. We arrived at the boat ramp at a quarter to nine in the morning, proceeded to bundle up (it was cold and damp outside), ready the boats, and then launch the boats into the gray mist. We boated out to our first transects without trouble, making sure our GPS tracks were on in case we needed to use them to find our way back in the limited visibility.

Upon reaching the first transect survey of the day, I walked along looking and listening for birds, and found quite a flurry of activity. There were Marsh Wrens arguing with one another, Seaside Sparrows chipping incessantly, Nelson’s Sparrows darting in and out of thick vegetation, Sedge Wren’s chattering and scurrying among the grass, and flocks of Red-winged Blackbirds flying purposefully.

I was having a hard time walking at the normal survey pace due to the amount of bird activity. About ¾ of the way along the transect, the vegetation changed from short, pleasant, and easily walkable smooth cordgrass to the dreaded black needlerush, so named for its exceptionally pointed tips that always seem to line up perfectly at eye-level.

Me standing in eye-level black needlerush.

The bird activity decreased when I entered this new vegetation, with only Marsh Wrens to keep me company now. I had just reached the 400 meter mark, when a startling, heavy burst of an object sprang up from the marsh beside me.

I had just startled a Barn Owl from its rest. It held still among the dense needlerush until I was within 3 meters of it, and all at once, it sprang to life and erupted out of the marsh. It hovered just above my head for about 30 seconds before flying off. All the while, staring at me intently with a look of, “who dares to disturb my peaceful rest at this hour?!?” It was not happy with me. That was the first Barn Owl that I had ever seen (a “lifer” as we bird nerds call it), and the first Barn Owl that we have detected while out in the marsh. I sprang my hands up in the air (in a celebratory fashion), and gave an excited “wooo” to honor the occasion. After jotting down a few delighted notes on the experience in my field notebook, I continued on with the survey.

A stock picture from the internet of a Barn owl, since I wasn’t quick enough to take a picture of the encounter.

Upon nearing the end of the transect (500m), I heard a duck calling from just beyond the marsh. I thought that I may be able to see it when I reached the end. Just as I walked up to the end of the transect, and about 50 meters away from where I thought I was hearing the duck, shotgun blasts rang out. It was then that I realized that the duck I was hearing wasn’t in fact a duck at all, but rather hunters using an artificial duck call to lure in any nearby, or flying over ducks (or unsuspecting birders) in the pursuit of harvest. In this instance, the birder was lured in instead of the bird! I hurriedly turned around, and scampered back through the marsh to where I began, so as to not be confused with a tasty-looking duck.

The rest of the day wasn’t as exciting as the Barn Owl encounter, but we saw many more birds, some of them coming up to us and perching nearby, and cocking their heads as if to say, “who is this strange creature walking through the marsh?” We observed more Marsh Wrens, Sedge Wrens, Seaside Sparrows, Swamp Sparrows, Nelson’s Sparrows, a Song Sparrow, and even a Sora that flushed up within a couple meters from us.

A Nelson’s Sparrow that we caught and banded the week prior.

A Seaside Sparrow that we caught and banded earlier in the year.

All the while, the fog continued to blanket our surroundings.

In true Friday the 13^th fashion, we did have a few mishaps. A GPS was lost in the marsh (never to be found again), one of the seat cushions on the boat decided to abandon ship, and of course, on our way back to the boat ramp, the foggave way to a carpet of damp, chilled, heavy rainfall that soaked us to our bones and forced us to employ the services of our boat bilge pumps.

All in all, it was a great day. We had a few mishaps here and there, but that is what makes field biology exciting, fun, and ever-changing. In addition, it was only fitting that one of the last owls in the southeast that I had not yet seen would show up so unexpectedly, of all days, on Friday the 13^th.

By: Spencer Weitzel