We launched later than we had planned (5am alarm just didnt go off!) but it was a good thing because when we arrived at 8:15, the refuge entrance was blocked by a sign that read "closed for maintenance". A pair of pick-up trucks with kayaks strapped to the top were pulled over near it, and one of the drivers hailed us over. We met two Friends of the refuge, both named John, who were there for a volunteer clean-up day and a little fishing afterward. They informed us that the refuge would be opened again at 9am, so we birded from the highway until then (4 whole species!).
We pushed off the gravel shore into a breezy cool morning and headed toward hay-colored cattail stands. Our goal was to practice identifying the sounds of marsh species, in particular the rails. I've been wanting to do some field recording but my phone has been having major battery issues, so I have to consult the almighty xeno-canto.org for the sound bytes in this post.
Our first encounter was a raft of the ubiquitous American Coots. I say ubiquitous because you can't find water in the desert without spooking a few of these guys as they loaf around like gangly aquatic chickens. They don't have webbed feet like ducks. Rather, their toes are extremely long and "lobed" with skin flaps to make them like 6 slender spatulas. You can see it in the struggling way that they paddle, as if running underwater. In fact, they're so ubiquitous, I haven't even taken a photo of any yet, as if it would be a shame to waste pixels on such a banal aspect of the landscape hahaha poor things! Anyway, they are abusive parents so I shouldn't feel to bad. That's right, apparently these unsuspecting goofballs have an unsightly habit of producing large clutches of eggs and then culling out the young they can't afford to feed by bludgeoning them every time they beg until they either stop begging or drown. Can't wait to witness this stomach-turning form of parenting later in the season...
Well before I finished this post, I stopped in Rotary Park and got a couple mediocre shots. Here you can kinda see their crazy spatula toes:
And here's a raft offshore with a little taste of the local scenery
Their calls are fairly ubiquitous too, but vary widely and therefore can be tricky to identify. Here's a sample recorded by the ubiquitous Ian Cruickshank (he's submitted over 2500 recordings):
Something like a drunk (and therefore hiccuping) trumpet www.xeno-canto.org/160780
Cute monkey calls www.xeno-canto.org/160569
And a sample of their general croaking www.xeno-canto.org/143696 by yet another ubiquitous recorder, Paul Marvin (1801 recordings), from the nearby Salton Sea.
Coots can be difficult to distinguish from their moorhen cousins, the Common Gallinule, who also inhabit these reedy desert waters. Easy to identify in the field by their bright red nose-piece, Gallinules are skittish and rarely seen. SO we have to rely on our ears (this is a theme with marsh birds) for them. The voice is similar, but as if coming from a smaller bird, so pitch is slightly higher. I find them to resemble the sound of an actual (not drunk) trumpet.
This recording is a good sampling of different calls xeno-canto.org/29369 (Andrew Spencer)
This recording (PM) is described as a rattle call given after a gunshot edited out. xeno-canto.org/64552
We continued down a channel past the coots and towards the 95 bridge. As we loped along, we were greeted by the hollow-plastic-scraping-on-concrete call of Western and Clark's grebes, represented here: Clark's xeno-canto.org/143568 and Western xeno-canto.org/14870. Interestingly, both seem underrepresented on XC, perhaps I can remedy it, as soon as I get my recording set up back in action! Here's a photo of Clark's that I took further downstream when we first arrived up here in Havasu:
These slender-necked waterbirds are similarly dressed, with the Western pulling its dark cap lower over its eyes. Their legs are positioned on the very back of their bodies for optimal water propulsion, which also means they are incapable of walking on land! They dotted the channel all the way up to the riparian corridor, diving out of the way and popping out behind us. I even saw what looked like a practice mating dance, a pair mimicking each others' suggestive grooming movements! I really hope I can catch the full duet at some point this season (if its not too late already)!
I also finally got a good look at some eared grebes. In fact, one let me drift within feet of it, so I got a chance to study its unique, diminuitive physique (somehow reminiscent of Fantastic Planet's Oms!): tiny spade-shaped head, poppy-red eyes, golden ear plumes and funny boule-shaped body with nothing but what looked liked matted fur for tail feathers. I didn't want to spook it, so I left my camera in my dry bag. I didn't hear them vocalizing, but here is a recording for reference: xeno-canto.org/70456. Kinda eerie, reminds me of a sora, which is in the elusive rail family.
