I’m still in mourning and adjusting to the loss of my friend. Thanks to all who have expressed appreciation for our work and a desire for it to continue. I’m sure Frank would have felt the same, and with that in mind, this will be the first of two or three installments discussing Pileated Woodpecker work on sweet gums that we’ve recently documented.
After my December trip, Phil Vanbergen and John Williams retrieved the trail cam we had deployed on December 21. They took the camera to Frank’s house, reviewed the card, and found that two Pileateds had visited the downed tree on the 22nd and had scaled some bark near the base of a medium to large limb. Phil, who has spent time with me in the field and who has paid close attention to my approach to analyzing feeding sign, immediately suspected Pileated for this work, based on the appearance of the scaling and the characteristics of the bark chips.
Rather than extract the images at that time, Frank and Phil opted to redeploy the camera. Although I had not yet seen the frames, many of my last communications with Frank, both on the phone and via email, touched on this subject. He was tickled by the fact that we’d anticipated and documented scaling activity on an untouched limb and was eager to get back out and see for himself. Sadly, that was not to be.
Phil and I retrieved the trail camera on January 28. I had visited the site on the 26th and had noted some additional scaling consistent with what I’d expect for Pileated Woodpecker, although with some bark chips on the larger side. As it happened, the second round of scaling had taken place approximately three hours earlier, five weeks to the day after the first.
In both instances, it appears that almost all the scaling was done by a female, although the image quality is too poor for me to be 100% certain. In both cases, the bird spent approximately 15 minutes on the trunk. It seems that squirrels (seen briefly at the beginning of the January series) are responsible for the modest quantity of scaling on the upper, less vertically oriented, part of the limb; this was my instinct at the time, and the idea is supported by the footage. The full time lapse sequences are at the bottom of the page. Phil extracted both sequences, and Steve Pagans created a slower version of the January 26th clip. The first four photos in the tiled mosaic series below were taken by Phil Vanbergen.
I’ll go into more detail in subsequent posts, but for now, I have a few observations.
- This work has a distinctive appearance, what I’ve called a layered look to the edges, that is consistent with what I’ve previously hypothesized for Pileated.
- While some of the bark chips are on the large side for what I have ascribed to Pileated, none are anywhere near as large as the larger ones that that we’ve ascribed to ivorybill. In addition, the chips found at this location and at another where I suspect the source is PIWO, seem to be less uniformly large in size and sometimes show signs of being taken off in layers, which matches what’s visible on the limbs.
- The tree in question was no more than six months dead, and the bark at the edges of the scaled area remained tight; however, dormant sweet gum bark is in the midrange of tightness relative to other hardwood species.
- This is a decay class that Tanner associated with ivorybills not PIWOs, but it’s clear that Pileateds can and do scale very recently dead sweet gum limbs, at least in mature bottomland forests.
- Tanner’s photographs provide little guidance in terms of differentiating between Pileated and Ivory-billed Woodpecker work on high branches. I suspect he thought of his monograph as more epitaph than guide to identifying feeding sign. Nevertheless, his descriptions offer some clues. “Scaling, the Ivory-bill works steadily, removing all the bark for quite an area; one may work at a spot for an hour or more.” And for Pileateds, “What scaling Pileateds were observed to do was mostly on loose bark and was never as extensive or as cleanly done as the work of the ivorybills.
To conclude this installment, we already suspected that Pileateds can and do scale freshly dead sweet gums before the bark has loosened; these images show them doing it in a way that is inefficient and neither ‘extensive’ nor ‘clean’. The total surface area scaled over approximately 30 minutes is modest compared to scaling we suspect to have been done by ivorybills. In addition, PIWO work has some characteristics that may be recognizable upon close examination of the affected limbs and bark chips. The fact that these characteristics can be seen on medium-sized sweet gum limbs, with their relatively thin and only moderately tight bark, suggests that it should be even more evident on larger limbs, boles, and other tighter barked species. More on this and on bark chips in subsequent posts.
Part 1 of this report is here.
Patricia opted to take the day off on the 19th, so I went out on my own and covered a lot of territory. I had been thinking hard about the hickories and the fact that, in virtually all cases, we’ve seen indications that bark is removed from these trees and stubs within a very brief period or perhaps in a single visit and that other woodpeckers don’t seem to begin working heavily on these trees for extended periods, sometimes for years. Except for changes in color due to exposure to the elements, some of the scaled surfaces we associate with Ivory-billed Woodpeckers can retain their distinctive appearance for at least three years and more likely five or more.
Steve Pagans later explained that this is due in large part to hardening by compression; hickory wood is hard and dense to begin with, and when a tree or stub is leaning, the wood that’s absorbing more weight becomes even denser, harder, and more impervious to rot. Thus, on many of these trees, Pileated Woodpeckers will have worked on the rotting side, sometimes extensively, while the compressed side remains very hard and virtually untouched by woodpeckers.
I examined and marked as many of these trees as I could over the remainder of the trip. Unfortunately, we did not find any of this scaling in the 2015-2016 season. Trying to find more of it this year and trying to find a way to identify potential target trees before they’re scaled will be priorities for me.
I plan to write about this work on hickories and what I think it suggests in an upcoming post. For now, suffice it to say that these particular snags and stubs are a kind of twofer having the decayed substrate that’s preferred by Pileateds and and the hard wood that, following Tanner, is preferred or used exclusively by ivorybills. As noted elsewhere, some bark on these snags and stubs can remain tight for years, and on one of the trees I examined, it was still difficult to remove, even when it had reached a point at which some of it would crumble to powder when it was being pulled off. More importantly, the harder surfaces show modest expansion of exit tunnels and targeted digging work that appear to be associated with the initial scaling (as in the hickory on the homepage and the one in Steve’s photo at the end of this post, both of which were very freshly scaled and alive when found) and little or no other work for a period of years, even when there are signs of infestation by multiple insect species (based on the presence of exit tunnels that vary greatly in size and shape). I’ve included multiple examples, long shots and details, to illustrate.
On the 20th, Patricia, Steve, Phil, and I went to Sector 2 together. We went through the area where I recorded calls in 2013 and where we found concentrations of scaling in spring 2012 and during the 2012-13 season. There has been none since in this little patch. We found no recent looking bark scaling in the morning (as it turned out, we missed a group of three sweet gums with high branch work perhaps a quarter mile to the northeast of this area, see below.) One odd highlight was coming across a patch of forest floor with many of these beautiful ice formations that had formed around the stems of a couple of species of plant.
At a little before noon, Steve opted to turn back; we had already covered 2.3 miles. Before we went our separate ways, we all speculated on and were baffled as to what might have damaged this sweet gum. The wounds seem to have been caused by a scrape, but there were no downed trees or tops anywhere in the immediate vicinity.
Phil, Patricia, and I proceeded another half mile farther north, reaching a hickory stub that I found in the spring of 2013, shown below. The stub was still standing, and the areas with putative ivorybill work had lost more bark but showed no signs of further woodpecker activity. The presence of a click beetle in this 2013 photo suggests that parts of the tree were already starting to rot even then.
We found two sweet gums with extensive scaling on large branches within 30 yards of this snag. Some of the work was recent. This is something that we’re finding repeatedly; even within clusters, the interesting feeding sign often seems to appear in tighter groupings involving two or more trees. I’ll provide a possible explanation in my next post.
We found a particularly unusual bark chip at the base of the tree on the left. While it comes from a relatively small branch, the way it was removed may be significant. Over 1/3 of the chip is cylindrical encompassing almost the entire circumference of the limb; it was not pecked off piece by piece; instead, it appears to have been loosened by several blows and then pried free. The bark is hard, suggesting it was tightly attached; it was moist and contained a good deal of frass when found. The piece is very large, approximately 13″ long and nearly 7″ in circumference.
On the return trip, we found a small group of three sweet gum snags, somewhat on the longer dead side. All three had recent to fresh scaling, and there were very large bark slabs at the bases of two of them. These slabs of bark were dense and hard, suggesting that they were tightly adhering when stripped.
We came across a massive relict cypress on the way back. It’s not the first time I’ve seen this tree, but it never fails to take my breath away.
On the morning of December 21st, Phil and I went to Sector 1, and Patricia and Steve went to Sector 3. We decided not to deploy a camera on the downed top we had found on the 16th. We have two functioning cameras at the moment, and it seemed more prudent to deploy them on untouched substrates. We didn’t find any new scaling or a substitute target, so we decided to head for Sector 3 where I had a couple of targets in mind.
As we were walking to the car, I got a text from Patricia saying that she and Steve had just had a possible auditory encounter. Steve is a dedicated birder with very good hearing and excellent ear-birding skills. Patricia has limited experience, but she is a retired opera singer with a good general ear. Here are their descriptions of the morning’s events.
Steve: At about 9:10 am, Patricia and I were in the bottomland hardwood area in Sector 3. The weather was overcast and cold without any wind – very good conditions to hear bird calls. We had walked southward for about a quarter of a mile in the bottomland area when we had decided to do some DKs. Actually it was Patricia’s idea to do some DKs, and we proceeded to find a small American Holly that was the right size to cut two sticks for knocking.
Patricia: I thought it would be a good location, as I remembered Frank, Steve, Mark and I had done them at the same location a few years back. I remember the fallen tree we all sat on for lunch. Steve had sardines! And where Frank sat down at the base of a tree and started to snore. When I mentioned to Mark that Frank was sleeping, Frank retorted “I’m not asleep”
Steve: The location is one where we could see for a distance fairly well. When we started the DKs, we did not keep up with how many were done or how long we did them, but I think it was for about 10 minutes. We made an effort to keep watch for an incoming IBWO that would be responding to the DKs, but we were probably not as diligent as we could have been. At a point we had engaged in some conversation. I was sitting on a sweetgum log and Patricia standing about six feet away. My right side was facing south. Patricia was talking when all of a sudden I heard what sounded like at least two distinct calls from my right. The calls sounded like textbook calls of the IBWO – a bit like a toy horn was being blown. I know White-breasted and Red-breasted Nuthatch calls very well and what I heard did not sound like either of those birds. I immediately put up my left hand to stop Patricia from talking and pointed with my right hand toward the south. I told her what I had heard while we both strained to hear any more calls. There were no more calls. Also, we did not see the bird. It is highly likely that we did not spend enough time watching and listening for the bird after I had heard it call. It is hard to say how close the bird might have been to our location because I don’t know how far their call can be heard.
Patricia: I think I did about 10 DKs, perhaps 15-30 seconds apart. When I didn’t hear anything interesting,I joined Steve, who was about 20 yards away. We started talking, and I was responding to something he said when his hands went up and his eyes widened. He whispered, “Did you hear that? Kent calls?” I shook my head no. We listened for a while, but probably no longer than 5 minutes.
Steve suggested we do another round of DKs to see if we could call in whatever made the sound again. I asked him to do the next round, as I my hands were stinging and sore; plus I wanted to hear them from someone with more experience. I think that, should someone have an auditory encounter, another person should take their place during a second round of DKs.
I stayed where I was standing when Steve heard the kents but was facing directly south. After 3 or 4 DKs, I heard something similar in cadence, but it had a sharper, crisper quality to it (similar to recorded Campephilus double knocks). It came roughly from the southwest. By the time Steve joined me later, I had convinced myself that it was caused by the logging that we heard going on in the distance, also to the southwest. If I mentioned hearing the DK to Steve, I probably downplayed it, blaming the logging or a falling limb; the winds were very calm at the time, and I didn’t hear any similar sounds from the logging that morning.
I have not spent much time in the field and am reluctant to place too much weight on my observations. I’d much prefer the IBWO (should it be out there) land on my shoulder “Sonny Boy” style and leave behind a fine DNA sample, after I manage to take a series of selfies!
Don’t we all . . . or at least that we could call them in like Barred Owls.
We met up with Patricia and Steve, and Phil set up the cams; one is currently aimed at a sweet gum stub we targeted last year before losing a camera to flooding. There is some fresh woodpecker work, I suspect Hairy, on the stub, so this may be a good time to target it. The other cam is trained on both a downed sweet gum top and a longer dead snag. Both are within the area where we’ve had multiple possible encounters recently, not far from the heavy concentration of sign found last spring.
Toward the end of the day, Phil went to do an evening stakeout in sector 1; Patricia went with him, while I took Steve a little farther north to show him a couple of the hickory stubs. In this location as well, there were a couple of recently scaled sweet gums in within 20-30 yards of the older hickories, which were similarly about 20-30 yards apart. We also examined one of the hickories Steve photographed in 2013; it was alive at the time. This one had decayed somewhat more rapidly than many of the others I’ve found, but it’s at a lower elevation relative to the nearest water body.
Steve remarked that he’s never seen feeding sign like this anywhere else, and he has spent countless professional hours in bottomland hardwood forests.
Frank, Phil, and John Williams will be in the search area over the next few days, so there may be another report coming soon, in addition to the post I’m planning on hickories and foraging behavior.
On this trip, I was joined by Patricia Johnson (my wife) who was making her first visit to our search area in over two years. Phil Vanbergen was along on Friday, when a classmate of his, Jeremy Irion, spent also spent the day with us. Steve Pagans, retired forester at D’Arbonne National Wildlife Refuge, was very active in our efforts until he was sidelined with back trouble. He too made his first visit in over two years on Tuesday and Wednesday. It’s great to have Steve along for his birding skills and knowledge of this habitat type. Phil returned on Tuesday and Wednesday, and spent Thursday in the woods on his own. Frank Wiley was unable to get out this time around.
Prior to our departure, rain was predicted for three of our planned field days, but as it turned out, the weather was generally tolerable, if cold at times; Saturday was the only day when conditions, high winds and predicted thunderstorms, kept us away. Patricia and I took that day as an opportunity to visit Tensas National Wildlife Refuge (on the site of the Singer Tract) and Bayou Cocodrie National Wildlife Refuge. More on these visits below.
Although I didn’t have any possible encounters (Steve and Patricia’s will be discussed in Part 2), the trip was an incredibly productive one for me. We found a good deal of recent feeding sign. I also took the opportunity to look at over 10 hickories that have been scaled within the last several years. This is the type of work I think is most compelling for ivorybill.
I got what I think are some important new insights and some ideas about how whatever is stripping bark is behaving over time; these merit a separate post that will likely follow Part 2 of the trip report; I also anticipate writing an addendum to the feeding sign page I added recently. I hope these insights can inform our strategies going forward. It’s especially helpful to get fresh perspectives, so I’m grateful to Phil, Steve, and Patricia. Each in their own way helped me think a little more deeply about my observations; a conversation I had with Frank after a long day in the field was similarly helpful.
The groups of images in this post are in “tiled mosaic” format. Clicking on any single image will enable you to scroll through the group and enlarge the individual photographs if you choose to.
We met Phil on the edge of what we call Sector 1 at 6:45 am on the 16th. The weather was cloudy, cold, and windy; later in the day, the thermometer soared to nearly seventy, but the skies remained a wintry gray, less than ideal conditions for finding feeding sign or observing birds. Nevertheless we did find some recent work on both standing and downed sweetgums and on a broken hickory limb, all of this in an area where we’ve found an abundance of scaling every search season. None of this work is in the category I find most compelling; the hickory limb is probably most interesting due to the characteristics of hickory bark and the very large bark chip we found below the limb. Given what we’ve observed on hickory boles, this may be good target tree for later in the season.
The scaling on the downed limb has some features that might point toward Pileated, especially the layered appearance at the lower right and the patchiness of the work on the smaller limb. Conversely, the shredding of the cambium on the stub is consistent with what Edith Kuhn Whitehead told us her father associated with ivorybills.
Phil and I considered aiming a trail cam at the downed limbs but decided the work was not quite interesting enough.
The weather forecast for the 17th was ominous, with winds upwards of 20 mph and thunderstorms predicted for the afternoon. Patricia and I thought we might be able to spend a couple of hours in Sector 1, but when we reached the trailhead we found a truck parked where we were planning to walk in. Given the bad weather and the presence of hunters, we decided to head straight for Tensas, a pilgrimage I’d been wanting to make for some time.
The drive took a couple of hours, and our Wayz app sent us on a couple of roads that dead-ended in bean fields, but we finally made it, only to find the visitor center closed for the weekend.
We took a walk on the boardwalk behind the headquarters and found a dead tree that had been almost completely stripped of bark, large soft slabs of which were lying around the base. I’m posting a photograph to illustrate how difficult it can be to explain what we’re finding to those who haven’t seen it firsthand. I doubt there are ivorybills in Tensas, but if I found this work in our area, I wouldn’t suspect ivorybill. The remaining adhering bark is loose and decaying; the large slabs we found on the ground were soft and pliable. The tree in the background has a little bit of scaling on it too, but it is in an advanced state of decay, and the bark has not been removed from large, contiguous areas.
As we drove around Tensas, we did note occasional instances of high branch scaling, but nothing remotely suggestive. Again I’m again including these examples in hopes of providing more clarity with regard to the kinds of feeding sign I find suggestive for ivorybill; this work doesn’t qualify; it is on very small, longer dead limbs; it does not involve large, contiguous areas; nor does it reach the bole or larger parts of the limbs.
We spent a couple of hours exploring the refuge from the road, stopping at Africa Lake, on the West side of the Tensas River, and then drove Sharkey Road, stopping for a somber moment on the bridge over John’s Bayou. I’m facing south in the picture below; Tanner would have walked north to the core of the home range. There are strips of maturing woods along the banks of the bayou but bean fields to the east and west. Tensas is big, extensively wooded, and an impressive restoration effort is under way, but the visit left me saddened, with a more visceral sense of what was lost when the Singer Tract was logged.
From Tensas, we went to Bayou Cocodrie, a nearly 15,000 acre refuge that’s part of a large, east-central Louisiana potential habitat complex. While the corridors are not uninterrupted, they encompass many thousands of acres of maturing forest, from D’Arbonne and Tensas National Wildlife Refuges to Raccourci Island and Tunica Hills. There’s some connectivity with the Atchafalaya Basin as well. Bayou Cocodrie is fairly isolated and hard to reach (Wayz was unhelpful again); it includes a small (775 acre) stand of old growth hardwoods (the Fisher Tract), and there may be a good deal more surrounding forest that’s suitable for ivorybills. I met a professional hunting guide a couple of years ago, and he claimed to have had an encounter there. We’re planning to visit Bayou Cocodrie and see the Fisher Tract and surrounding areas on my next visit.
Patricia and I were on our own on the 18th, which was a much colder, clearer day after some early morning clouds broke up. We spent the early part of the day in the northeastern part of Sector 1 and didn’t find anything of interest. We went to the scaling concentration in Sector 3 in the latter part of the morning and stayed in the area until about 3 pm.
I didn’t notice any new scaling worth mentioning, but we found a limb that had fallen and broken apart in the storms that had raged through the night before. The scaling had been done before the branch fell, and except for one targeted dig, there was no associated excavation. While some of the bark had loosened, it was tight (impossible to remove without an implement) on the edges. I’ve included several images because they help illustrate the difference between the very extensive scaling we’re finding in our area and what’s common elsewhere (as shown in some of the Tensas photos). Patricia is 5’9″.
Stay tuned for Part 2.
This was an eventful trip, with an extraordinary amount of activity on the first four days – including a possible sighting and several possible auditory encounters – and none at all on the last two. I was alone on October 13th, 17th, and 18th; Frank joined me from the 14th-16th. Conditions were generally good – light winds (strongest gust, 20 MPH, was on the 13th) and sunny or partly cloudy skies. Daytime highs were in the upper 80s-low 90s, with uncomfortably high humidity on 17th and 18th. Notwithstanding the recent flooding in Louisiana, the forest floor was dry and water levels were lower than I’ve ever seen, making it much easier to reach less accessible areas.
I found very little fresh scaling, although a tree on which we had a trail cam appeared to have been worked on quite extensively sometime after my last visit in late May. The card probably contains imagery through June and possibly into July. Unfortunately, it may have been corrupted; Frank is working on retrieving the data. If I were superstitious, I’d point to this as another case of “the curse of the ivorybill”. That aside, the paucity of fresh scaling (only a few trees with small chips consistent with PIWO work at the bases) supports the idea that bark scaling has a seasonal component that is related to breeding. This is implicit in Tanner, the limited data on ivorybill stomach contents, and in several previous posts (links).
I am somewhat hesitant to mention and describe my possible sighting and some of the other possible encounters this trip but have decided that it’s better to be comprehensive and transparent. Of all the events of the past several days, I think the double knocks Frank and I heard on Saturday were the most compelling. While my views on the IBWOs persistence are unchanged, my pessimism about obtaining conclusive documentation has grown. I may have more to say about this in a future post.
And with that, here’s the day-by-day log.
I arrived in Sector 3 at sunrise on Thursday morning and got to the ‘hot zone’ as quickly as I could.
The small pond with several scaled trees, discussed in this post, was completely dry, enabling me to look at some of the downed wood that had been in or under water on previous visits. I found a large and very interesting cavity in some blowdown. Both the shape and size are unusual and more consistent with IBWO than PIWO. (My iPhone 7 Plus’s dimensions are 6.23”x3.07”)
I went a little farther south to the trail cam and noted that one of the target trees had been more extensively scaled since my last visit in May. The work is on the bole of this less than 1’ DBH sweet gum that had been damaged by a falling limb and has recently succumbed (photo below). There were large chips on the ground, but they did not appear to be fresh. If the scaling was done in June, as I suspect, we hope to have captured the source.
I hunkered down and watched the trees for some time, seeing and hearing nothing of interest. When the sun was above the tree line, I ventured south and east, thinking I’d take advantage of the low water and explore some unvisited areas.
I had a possible sighting at about 9:25. I was walking south and turned to my right, looking across a clearing to a large snag that I estimated to be approximately 200 yards away (paced off at over 170 steps and later rangefindered at 160 yards). The snag in question is very close to where Frank had a sighting in March.
I texted my wife with a description that I fleshed out in an email that evening, bracketed remarks have been added for clarification.
“I saw a brilliant flash of white as a woodpecker flew up onto the tree [this was a dorsal view.] I reached for my binoculars not my camera; I think because the distance was so great. I got the bins on the bird and got them focused as it took off. I didn’t get anything like a good look, but again saw brilliant white wings with a little black. I also had the distinct impression that the bird was much too large to be a RHWO. But it was a fleeting glimpse (or better two fleeting glimpses).
I did some playback of PIWO and IBWO and had no responses.
I . . . went to the snag. There is a RHWO roost at the very top, and I saw one juvenile and another RHWO but didn’t see the head [and could not determine whether it was a juvenile or an adult]. Though RHWOs were present, seeing them at this close range made me feel even more strongly that the bird I spotted was much bigger. I can’t fully rule out RHWO, but I also find it hard to imagine that I would have been able to get any details at all such a distance unless the bird was large.” Snag where I had the possible sighting. The bird landed on and took off from the stub at center. A Red-headed Woodpecker cavity is at the top of the left stub. My view was dorsal and from below, so the white was clearly on the trailing edges of the wings, ruling out Pileated.
This was my first possible sighting in almost three years. I was disoriented and shaken by it, as I have been with my handful of other possibles. And since it was not a good look, I can’t help but doubt myself.
In reply to my emailed description, Bob Ford had this to say:
“My ‘for what it’s worth’, I had a similar sighting once and paced it off to the same distance, then found Red-headed Woodpeckers and watched them at around that distance (maybe a little closer). Yes, can’t rule out red-headed but they look pretty small at that distance.”
As it turned out, Frank and I were able to spend some time observing Red-headed Woodpeckers in an open area at 50-100 yards. This was on Sunday morning at approximately the same time and under lighting conditions that were, if anything, somewhat brighter than those on Thursday. These observations led me to lean somewhat more strongly toward Ivory-billed Woodpecker. While the white rump of the Red-headed was easily visible at these distances, the white on the wings at a similar angle of view appears a lot less extensive and vivid than what I saw, and Red-headeds indeed look quite small.
I was able to capture a female Pileated and a sub-adult Red-headed in several frames. I’ve included a couple of the images here, both because they illustrate the size differential and because the posture of the Pileated is very similar to the posture of the bird in one of our old trail cam photos; the angle of view is different; nevertheless, it seems relevant with regard to neck length. The snag was less than fifty yards away. The first photo in the series shows the entire area. Frank measured the distance to the distant snag at right as 100 yards; the snag in the second and third images is at the left edge of the frame in the first.
On Friday morning, Frank and I had hoped to return to the ‘hot zone’, but when we arrived another vehicle was parked at the end of the road, presumably a squirrel hunter. To avoid contact with others, we went to Sector 2 but found another vehicle parked where we were hoping to hike in. We opted to hike into Sector 3 from the south, a part of the area that we visit less frequently and that’s harder to traverse when water levels are high.
I did not note the time, but I’d estimate that it was between 9:00 and 10:00. Frank did a series of double knocks, and shortly afterwards, I heard two single knocks (Frank heard one) and then a possible distant double knock that we both heard. Later on, farther north and closer to the ‘hot zone’, he did another series, and there was a loud, close single knock, followed by what may be the longest and most agitated-sounding Pileated calling I’ve ever heard. We both found these knocks somewhat intriguing, but neither one of us thought they were compelling.
On Saturday, there were no vehicles at the trailhead, so we were able to return to the ‘hot zone’. At a little after 9:00 am, we were approaching the northernmost edge when we heard 5 double knocks from two sources to the west of us. I estimated the distance at over 200 yards, but Frank put it somewhat closer, perhaps 150. We both agreed they sounded very good for Campephilus; Frank thinks some of the best ever; he wrote: “. . . three of the first five, early on, were very crisp, clean, and woody; among the best I’ve heard.”
We stopped and waited, and heard nothing. Frank did an ADK series and got no response. About fifteen minutes later, I did another series, and this time, I heard 2-4 more double knocks. Frank was applying insect repellant, the reason for my uncertainty about the number of knocks I heard. He only heard one. We sat for another 20 minutes or so, and, after hearing nothing, proceeded south to the scaling concentration. When we reached the pond with the downed cavity, we heard another DK from the south, at fairly close range.
From there, I took Frank to where I was standing when I had the possible sighting, and he measured the distance. We then went on to explore some previously unvisited places, finding some possible cavities and starts and a little bit of older feeding sign. This part of our search area is difficult to reach and navigate unless conditions are extremely dry, and we suspect it may be where roosts are located at present. If we can visit and explore it when leaves are down, we will be able to do a more intensive search for potential roosts. This is a difficult undertaking, especially given that the big trees are more than 100’ tall.
On Sunday, we went to Sector 2, the easily accessible part of which has seen a major increase in human activity and four-wheeler use over the last three years. This is the area where the tree on the homepage is located. Because waters were so low were able to get to parts of this sector that we haven’t visited in a couple of seasons due to changes in hydrology caused by beavers and and human traffic.
I was sad to discover that what I called the kissing trees, my favorites, have separated.
At 11:30, about 4 miles in, Frank nearly stepped on this canebrake rattler, only the third one I’ve ever seen.
A few minutes later, a series of approximately a dozen calls from two or three sources caught our ears. We agreed on the following details: they sounded more like “yips” than “kents” (I didn’t consciously remember that Allen and Kellogg described some ivorybill calls as “yips”); they were all single notes with no variations in pitch, perhaps not as rich sounding and higher pitched than the Singer Tract recordings, but with something of their toy horn quality; the first calls came from the east and northeast, and with movement northwestward and away from us. A Downy Woodpecker called shortly afterwards; I mentioned to Frank (and he agreed) that the “yips” had a similar quality to the Downy’s “Pik”, what I’d describe in retrospect as their brevity and emphasis.
After the calls subsided, we proceeded north for another hour or so, before looping south and west. At approximately 2 PM and at about the same latititude, I heard three more calls that were more kent-like. Frank missed them; while I suspect they came from Blue Jays, I’m including them for the sake of completeness.
On the 17th, I explored parts of Sector 1 I haven’t visited before but did not see or hear anything suggestive of ivorybills. The same was true on the 18th, when I returned to the ‘hot zone’.
I don’t anticipate returning to Louisiana until sometime in December but may do another post or two between now and then.
I don’t expect to return to our search area until sometime this fall, but I hope that my schedule will allow me to spend a lot more time in the field next season. Overall, this was a challenging week due to high temperatures and severe back pain that troubled me from the end of the first day on. Nonetheless, it was a productive trip, and weather conditions were generally tolerable – hot and humid but not unbearably so, with daytime temperatures mostly in the high 80s. Woodpeckers, except for Red-bellieds, were generally quiet and unobtrusive. The only Pileateds I saw were responding to playbacks, and while I didn’t keep count, I’d estimate I heard their vocalizations an average of 2 or 3 times a day.
In contrast to winter and early spring, the woods are filled with other sounds – songbirds, frogs, cicadas, squirrels – making it much harder to separate signal from noise. Green frog calls can sound a little like double knocks at a distance, especially if you’re walking, and the squirrel calls in this recording were intriguing enough to capture, as only the somewhat kent-like sounds were audible to me in the field, something for other searchers to bear in mind.
I had a 6 am flight out of JFK. After arriving in New Orleans, I met Frank Wiley for coffee and then drove to his house, changed clothes and got to the search area at a little after 2 pm. The area I visited is the one closest to a parish road. This is a part of the southern sector in which we’ve consistently found feeding sign since 2012 and where I found a number of recently scaled trees in March of this year. Despite full leaf out, I was able to find quite a few more recently scaled trees in the general vicinity of those discussed in the most recent trip report.
Unfortunately, and perhaps because my attention was on looking for feeding sign, I got somewhat turned around and wandered considerably farther south than I had intended, running the risk not only of trespassing but also of getting stranded in the woods. I noticed this at about 6 pm. Fortunately, I wasn’t too far from the road, just well south of where I wanted to be. It took me a half hour to reach the road (at which point I noticed my back was hurting badly) and another ten minutes or so to get to the car. I didn’t sleep much or well that night, despite having been awake since 3:30 am.
My back continued to bother me, so I tried to take it easy by spending the morning in the most accessible part of the search area. I found a few additional scaled trees, some with old work and excavation that seems consistent with what Tanner described, others with scaling that looked fresh.
Travis Lux, a radio freelancer working on an ivorybill story, spent the morning in the field with me. (Most days this week I could only manage being out from around 6 am – 1 pm.) We visited the northern sector. I did not find any new feeding trees.
We passed the large downed limb where we had a camera trap for some time, and there has been no fresh work on it since the flooding in March. And only a small quantity of bark has been removed since the camera was deployed.
This may be significant, since it seems likely that common animals with small home ranges would return repeatedly to the same feeding spot. In the case of this limb, it seems to have been scaled by something unknown, prior to our camera deployment and again a little over a month later. Squirrels, Red-bellied, and Pileated Woodpeckers were captured or seen on the target limbs, but they did no scaling. As I’ve mentioned previously, in most instances, we’re finding that trees are visited by whatever’s scaling them once or sporadically over a period of months.
We continued southward into the area discussed in the last trip report; we’ve found feeding sign regularly in this small area every season since 2013-2014. I did not find any new feeding trees: however, there was additional scaling on a couple of the trees found in recent trips, most notably the large dying sweet gum below (the next to last image in the post). I’m hoping that Frank will be able to train a camera on this treetop once our old Reconyxes have been repaired. The resolution on our other cameras is too poor to aim them so high; the same may be true of the Reconyx cams, but the quality is somewhat better.
We did a stake out in the area for a couple of hours but did not see or hear anything of interest. On the way out, I noticed that one of our suspected feeding trees had some very fresh scaling on it. This is a small tree with thin bark, and the chips were mostly very small. I do not suspect this to be ivorybill work and have a hunch that it was done by a Hairy, taking advantage of scaling that had been begun by another species.
I returned to the part our search area that’s most readily accessible from the road, so I was in the woods before sunrise. I found a few additional recently scaled trees, some with very large chips at the base. One of these was heavily scaled on the bole as well as on the branches, and although the bark was loose in some spots; it was tight in others. The presence of twigs and small branches suggests that it had died fairly recently, even though there were signs of Pileated Woodpecker excavation on decaying parts of the bole.
Phil and Eric Vanbergen joined me, and we returned to the area I’d visited the day before, again getting into the woods early. We found a six more scaled trees, took GPS points, and measurements. The trees were all live or fairly freshly dead. All were sweet gums, as has been the case for virtually all trees found this season (with two possible exceptions, one of which is shown in the May 22nd entry). Diameters of the trees measured were 14.7”, 19”, 21”, 25.1”, 26.2”, and 27”
Four of the six trees listed above were found in pairs, about 5’ apart in one instance and 20’ apart in the other. In the case of one pair, a long dead sweet gum and a live hickory within 30’ also showed some older scaling. Most of this work was recent but not fresh. We found large chips at the base of the pair of trees that are 5’ feet apart; these were probably a few months old.
While I did not keep count, and we only took coordinates for a few of the trees found this time around, I’d estimate I found a total of 15-18 recently scaled sweet gums in and around the southern concentration described in the last trip report.
The Vanbergens were along again. It’s refreshing to spend time in the woods with young people (Phil’s in college and Eric’s in high school) who know and love nature, something that seems to interest fewer and fewer people in their age group. They have suggested some interesting strategies for searching, and I’m looking forward to their participation next season.
We went to the northern area, arriving at the scaling concentration at around 7:30. We staked out feeding trees until around 10 with no results.
Here are some of Eric’s wonderful photos: cottonmouth, pale lobelia, bark scaling, swamp milkweed, and another cottonmouth. He identified the plants.
After that we headed further south to an area they hadn’t visited before. We found a little bit of fairly recent scaling on a dead hickory about 20 yards from where I found a heavily scaled hickory in 2013. The scaling is not extensive; it’s clearly targeted at larger Cerambycids, but given the small patches, Hairy Woodpecker is a distinct possibility. I was unable to find any fresh chips, so the work is probably several months old.
I returned to the northern area alone and spent the morning staking out the same large feeding tree. I watched Red-bellied Woodpeckers flying to and from the tree sporadically, usually spending very brief periods pecking and gleaning on both scaled and unscaled areas and drumming from time to time. At 7:30, the male landed at the top of scaled stub and called. The female arrived; they copulated, and she flew off. He departed a few seconds later. At 8:30, I recorded the squirrel calls, and at 10:35, one of the RBWOs landed near the top of the scaled stub, peered around at me, and eventually started to drum. I called it a day shortly after noon. Here’s another image of the sweet gum top I was staking out, to give a sense of how extensively scaled it is in the crown.
I hiked out, following a rather circuitous route. A few hundred yards from the concentration, I found a recently dead sweet gum with a few small scaled patches but no extensive work. I think this is another indication that this scaling is not being done by a common, evenly distributed species. Work tends to appear in bunches, with scattered sporadic examples elsewhere, but in the two areas discussed in this post, bark scaling on deciduous trees has been abundant in concentrated locations, over several years, and is much harder to find and scattered outside of these “hot zones”.
On the 24th, I drove to New Orleans, stopping in Lafayette for lunch and ivorybill talk with Wylie Barrow and Tommy Michot.
I realize this has been a very image-heavy post. I sometimes think it’s hard to convey the quantity and unusual nature of the bark scaling we’re finding in this area and hope this does a somewhat more effective job at making it clear than some previous efforts.
That’s all for this season. I’ll be doing some additional posts on old material as well as one on foraging sign concentrations and tree species in the weeks ahead. I may also upload a lot more images of feeding sign to Flickr for those (if any) who haven’t seen enough of it. And of course, if there’s anything to report from Louisiana, you’ll read it here. I hope that the insights and data that have emerged this season will guide us next year.
Frank Wiley: Last month, John Williams and I spent three nights camping in the habitat. The following is his account of what we experienced and observed. I’ve added a few comments where there are significant points of disagreement, as well as a sketch.
Hi, I’m John Williams. I want to help with techniques to find the Ivorybilled Woodpecker. I have a BS Marine Science, MS Secondary Education, and a non-accredited, 10 year PhD in Natural Science. My field experience is from the last five decades, from Alaska to Guatemala, in many habitats. I have a life list of about 390 bird species, have led birding hikes, and have training in marine mammal spotting and identification. Many of my field hours are with student groups; my training there was to locate and interpret interesting organisms, ecologic relations, weather, and earth sciences.
I’ve been interested in the Ivory-billed Woodpecker story for a number of years (with a possible sighting in Manatee Springs State Park, Florida during the 2000s), been on the Ivory-billed Woodpecker Researchers Forum for a number of years (as motiheal), and offered ideas there, including hypotheses on drone use (more for the Imperial Woodpecker), olfactory abilities, field techniques and equipment, and sound.
I’ve become especially interested in sound attraction. It’s common knowledge that birds can be attracted by the correct sounds; in fact, a growing problem with birding tourism expeditions is that playback seems to be too successful, possibly changing wild bird behavior. However, I feel that this technique is appropriate to document IBWO individuals and populations.
For the IBWO, there is much speculation that the Allen-Kellogg recordings, or parts of them, are of stressed individuals, and that playing these sounds for attraction is problematic. Additionally, there are some who believe that double knock sounds by the IBWO have a territorial component, with similar problems for attracting a bird. In looking for other sounds, I became interested in the SR recording series on the Project Coyote website. Some in particular can be interpreted as a male and female IBWO communicating; the two sounds are octave-related. Researching further, I found that other members of Campephilus, especially the Magellanic Woodpecker, make very similar sounds. Additionally, sounds that are octave-related can behave as the same frequency. The writeup for these ideas is found here (number 323 in “Effective Search Methods”).
I also studied how researchers play their sounds. This is often with limited volume. In searching for a solution to higher volume, to reach a wider area, hunting playback machines were found to be a good answer. My choice was a Cass Creek RPS Extreme, which is advertised to reach 90 decibels, and is portable. This device can record and store sounds.
In searching possible sounds to record, I reasoned that a IBWO-related begging juvenile sound could be a great attractant. Recordings from the Magellanic Woodpecker on the website Xeno-Canto have these. I also decided to record some of the possible and proven IBWO kents, available at Xeno-Canto, the Macauley Library, Project Coyote, and Cornell websites, at a slower speed, same pitch, to possibly work as a superstimulus. Finally, because there are accounts of feeding groups in Campephilus, I thought to include some of the few related sounds.
Following is a list of sounds recorded. Recordings were done ambient from laptop to RPS Extreme hunting playback device. Manipulations of some sounds (trimming, slowing) were done on the sound editing program Audacity:
- Project Coyote SR0010, 432 Hz, 6 kents, slowed, x3
- Project Coyote SR0010, 432 Hz, 6 kents, normal speed, x3
- Project Coyote SR0010, 6 higher kents (approx. twice 432 Hz), slowed, x3
- Project Coyote SR0010, 6 higher kents (approx. twice 432 Hz), x3
- Xeno Canto, Magellanic juvenile begging, slowed, x2, LOUD
- Xeno Canto, Magellanic juvenile begging, different version, x2
- Xeno Canto, Magellanic juvenile begging with knocking (feeding?), x2
- Xeno Canto, Magellanic kents, 432 Hz, 2x, LOUD
- Xeno Canto, Magellanic kents, 432 and other Hz, 2x, LOUD
- Project Coyote, Bill Benish DK
- Project Coyote, Bill Benish DK, slowed, showing multiple resonances
- Project Coyote, SR1721, 6 high kents
- Project Coyote, SR 1721, sampled section x 2
- Project Coyote, SR3255, toot x2
- Cornell, Allen-Kellogg, 2 kents, different frequencies, LOUD
- Cornell, Allen-Kellogg, 2 kents, similar frequencies, LOUD
- Cornell, Robust WO DK, LOUD
- Cornell, “A very active morning,” approx. 10 seconds, drumming and one DK
- Cornell, tooting with Flicker, 5 toots, 1 loud Flicker sound
- Macauley Library 6784, Allen-Kellogg, high kents, wokawoka, LOUD
- Macauley Library 6784, Allen-Kellogg, pounding, 1 kent
- Macauley Library 6784, Allen-Kellogg, wokawoka, 10 seconds, LOUD
- Macauley Library 6784, Allen-Kellogg, wokawoka and pounding
- Macauley Library 6784, Allen-Kellogg, 7 short higher kents, LOUD
- Macauley Library, Crimson-Crested WO, DK with resonance
- Macauley Library, Magellanic juvenile
- Macauley Library, magellanic juvenile with kents
It should be obvious to students of the IBWO question that Project Coyote (Mark Michaels, Frank Wiley, and their guest researchers) have at this writing the best chance at good documentation. In the American Southeast with millions of square kilometers, they have a place with local documentation, feeding sign, multiple sightings with good field marks, a few photo images, all in a small search area that IBWOs seem to have stayed in for a period of several years. There are indications of multiple birds as well. After years of various emails to Mark and then Frank on various topics, I offered my ideas on sound attraction, asked to visit the area with them, and was accepted.
On the flight to Houston, I flew over hundreds of kilometers of possible IBWO habitat and was struck by two things—the many available riparian corridors facilitating IBWO survival and dispersal, and the many ground fires that day, with smoke plumes extending to the east for tens of kms. Asking the airline crew about the latter’s cause, I was told both lightning and canefield controlled burns. If it’s true that the IBWO is a “disaster bird,” and can detect and follow smoke plumes, then perhaps by the prevailing winds, their small Southeast populations are becoming concentrated to the west of their range.
From 22 to 24 March 2016, I camped in the study area with Frank Wiley. We hiked in during the AM, and made camp at noon on higher ground. The habitat is a floodplain, a week or so after historic flooding. There was little leaf litter, no snakes, and the high water marks on the trees were astounding—a good four feet above the present stream levels. Following is the trip report with some discussion. The decision to play various sounds at various times was made from Frank’s experiences, and eventually with some of mine.
22 March, 1200 noon—made camp. Clear skies. Variable windy day to 20 knots. Tree leaf-out was slight. Some faint bird sounds. Possible single knock to NW, then soon after, Frank thought he heard an SK to the SE. This was my first experience with hearing either an SK or DK. These did not sound anything like tree-on-tree noises, from wind knock, that I have heard in my experience; there is no component of rubbing, nor is there the expected repetition.
130—probable PIWO. Used RPS to play sound 7 twice.
230—other WO activity, with some sightings of PIWOs and RHWOs.
245—high kents? to the N. Played 7 2x, 9 3x. Bluejays called to SW.
345- hiked to N about 200 meters. Frank did a wooden stick DK. At this position, unbeknownst to us at the time, we were fairly close to a spot where Mark was finding abundant and recent feeding sign.
We sat in full camo on a log near the edge of a shallow water pond. No blind was used and, with the open woodland, we were visible to a bird if camo does not actually work the same for their vision (for example, sensing in the UV range as some have reasoned). We faced East. Frank suggested that we wait for a while, then begin playback in sequence, twice each with gaps of 30 seconds, waiting 2 minutes between different sounds.
400—began sound series:
Sound 1: after about 1 minute, two barred owls called
S2: soon after, there were two fairly close tree knocks (like SKs) behind us. Frank’s interpretation were that they were wind-caused; mine was that they were not. They sounded exactly like other SKs later in the trip, including when it was not as windy.
Frank Wiley: I cannot agree with this interpretation. Based on my experience, these were tree knocks and were an important contributing factor to this possible attraction event, and possibly the only factor.
We then played sounds 3 through 6 without any obvious sounds occurring.
S7: two large dark birds flew in to the front of us (from the East), to about 70 meters, landing in the tree canopies. My impression were that they were large crows. They did not call. Eventually, they worked their way to the left and flew away; field marks were for crows.
S8: we had an immediate PIWO sound as if a reaction
S9: a barred owl called to our right, after each playback
S10 and S11 played without any obvious sounds occurring.
S12: at this point, we had been at the spot for about an hour, and had been using playback for about forty minutes. There were two SK-sounding knocks to the East in front of us, then Frank saw a bird with good IBWO fieldmarks fly to a tree, similar to where the crows were, around 70-80 meters in front of us to the East. He told me he saw large white bill (the sun was bright in back of us), black face, red on crest, that the bird came in silently, and that the bird cupped its wings to land. Frank then saw the bird moving, apparently to get a better look at us.
Frank Wiley: My observations of this event, in spite of the fact that we were sitting within a few feet of each other, are considerably different. First, I am quite certain that the “single knocks” coming from directly behind us (west) were tree sounds. In spite of the fact that I saw what I feel were pretty good ivorybill field marks, I cannot be certain because of the brevity of the sighting and the fact that the sun, which was directly behind us, could have produced lighting artifacts. In his account, John does not mention the fact that the wind was causing two tree limbs to the southwest of us to knock together repeatedly. It’s my best guess that IF the bird we saw was indeed an ivorybill and came to that spot in response to something, the more likely explanation is that it was this repeated banging of the two limbs together more than any other stimulus. I agree that we heard two or possibly three very distinct single knocks coming directly toward us and the limbs that were banging together over the space of about five minutes, immediately prior to the possible sighting. This would have meant the bird was moving east to west.
He tried to point this out to me but I did not see it. I took a wide-angle photograph of the area, then a zoomed-in photo of my best-guess where the bird was. Post-trip study of these photos has not revealed any pixels that could be the bird.
S12: after a minute, we repeated this sound, hoping the bird would move closer, but it did not. I remembered at the time that this rough distance of 80 meters or so has been reported as an IBWO stopping distance by more than one researcher.
After about five minutes, I suggested to Frank that he walk to the right, to see if the bird would move. He did so and, when he got to only about twenty feet away, I saw the bird jump-flap to the left, to another tree perhaps 15 feet away from it. It was a large-bodied bird, bigger than a crow, only appearing black, and it moved perpendicular to me so I did not see wings. It moved in a manner that has been described for an IBWO—a power jump. It landed on a section of tree in back of some emergent foliage, and I did not see its position. The sighting was in about two seconds. I took a zoomed-in photograph of my best-guess to its spot, but again, subsequent study has not shown a trace of the bird.
At this point, another dark bird appeared from very nearby, and flew to the right. My impression was that it was a crow. It flapped for about 40 meters, then landed in a tree. (During these encounters, there were no crow sounds or other sounds).
After another five minutes, I suggested that I walk to the right similarly, to flush the putative IBWO. I walked, circling the pond, and began to close the distance. When I took a particular step, Frank called that the bird had flown. I came back, and Frank told me that he had seen it power-fly away silently, in the manner that IBWOs have been reported to do. Its flight was directly East, the direction that it came in. This was at approximately 520 PM.
We returned to camp.
23 March, at camp. Clear skies, variable but lessening wind. Clouds beginning from NW.
800 AM: we had already seen pairs of Red-shouldered Hawks close to mating, then a pair of Wood Ducks flying over, and returning to land in a nearby tree, showing some courtship behavior. Frank saw a large woodpecker in a brief flyby.
900: a SK and then high frequency, kentlike sounds about 20 in sets of two, with two or three in sets of three. These were at frequencies that some researchers think Blue Jays can produce as IBWO mimicry (there were BJs present on our trip, but not numerous). We played sounds 12 and 15, but no reactions were heard.
1115: we hiked North about 300 meters. Stopped for playback. During this series, Mark and Tom were about 500 meters North of us, and did not report hearing any of our sounds. We played, with same cadence as previous day—
S18: after two minutes, a Red-shouldered Hawk flew in above the treetops and circled.
Repeated S18: the RSHawk did not return
1145: we met Mark and Tom about 600 meters North of camp. They had found a hot zone of feeding; Mark reports this on this website .
I played sounds, with same cadence, S5, S6, S7, S15 (a series of 10 total kents), repeated S15 (series of 5 total kents), then S24. At some unrecorded place in these playbacks, we heard either an SK or a DK, not too far to the West (also discussed in Mark’s report).
We all studied the area for a while, eventually split up to our groups. Frank and I walked slowly back toward camp, listening, without hearing kents or knocks.
400 PM: we did a series of playbacks from camp, same sequence and cadence:
After S2, Frank did a stick DK
After S4, Frank did another DK
After S16, a crow cawed
After S22, a Barred Owl called
Sequence was stopped after S23.
At 500 PM, it began to rain.
24 March, at camp. It had rained through the night, then stopped around 900 AM. Woodpecker activity began, including PIWOs and RHWOs. A large tree or treetop fell to the immediate East, just out of sight range. Leaf-out, in the span of one day, was remarkable; there was much less visibility through the woods.
900AM: to the West, high kentlike sounds of about 1000 Hz, a total of 20 from two locations. We did two tree DKs, with no response; the kents stopped.
1030: to the East of camp, two different-frequency kentlike sounds which seemed to be conversing. One was at around 1000 Hz, the other a bit lower. A total of 20 sounds.
1230: we hiked about 300 yards South, stopped, waited 5 minutes, then did tree DKs and an SK. There seemed to be a DK response. I did not record the direction. We played sounds S4, S5 (repeated 5 times), the S25, with no obvious responses. On the hike back, we heard some possible kents.
25 March. We packed up camp around 5AM, then hiked North to around 50-100 meters from Mark and Tom’s hot zone, intending to do playback near this area at an early hour. On the way, we heard high kentlike sounds; according to Frank, these were Blue Jay. One responded to my approximation of a much lower (432 Hz?) kent sound, keeping its own frequency.
915AM: we found a spot, looking toward the hot zone to the NE, with a semi-blind from snags and limb deposition (there was so much flooding and runoff that these limbs were quite large). We wanted to begin playback but the RPS unit somehow stopped working. At this spot, a woodpecker to the West began slowly pounding on a tree, not too far from us. I walked a bit toward it, but could not see any bird. The pounding continued intermittently, not like a DK or SK but more a feeding sound. After 20 minutes or so, a PIWO called from this direction.
We hiked out with some time delay, having to cross the streams at only certain spots since they had risen from the rain.
I would like to conclude by offering some best-case opinions of what happened. The core of our encounter was on the 22nd, at a time when IBWOs are reported to be active and beginning to return to their roosts. Frank, who has seen the IBWO before, had a number of good field marks, in a good search area, so it is reasonable to presume we saw the bird. I also believe that the bird did not come in as a response to a wind-caused SK, although this has been reported to have happened before. To my experience, the sounds in back of us were not wind-caused, and therefore probably from another IBWO. In addition, the male came in some time later, and seemed to use an SK as it arrived (Frank). Because Frank saw a red crest, and following Tanner and others who report the bird travels in pairs, this possible IBWO in back of us would then have been a female.
FW: As I mentioned earlier, I disagree with this interpretation, and it is not something Mark or I would include as analysis, since it is so speculative.
This encounter suggests that the playback sounds that we used worked to lure in at least one IBWO, to a somewhat standard distance where the bird saw us, even though we used camo, and then stopped and continued to be curious. The loudest sounds played were the Magellanic Woodpecker juvenile begging calls, and then MGWO 432 Hz kents which are similar to the IBWO’s.
FW: Again, this is quite speculative, and I think ambient sounds were the more likely factor if there was an attraction event. However, there’s certainly room for further field testing of John’s hypotheses.
When the RPS unit is repaired, I will be sending it South to Frank for further use. Sounds played could have been louder, and been edited to remove background noise better. Additionally, with some kind of blind where the human form is blocked, a curious IBWO might have approached much closer.
Further research, reproduction, and refinement of the technique and its results, is needed.
Because this research was done with Project Coyote, any questions should be directed through them.
Long Island NY
As usual, much of this report will be focused on bark scaling. I found an unprecedented amount of fresh work this trip, a total of 29 trees, all sweet gums. I only counted live and freshly dead trees that appeared to have been scaled within the last year, and probably more recently than that, in most cases. As will be discussed, I was able to ascertain that 11 of these trees had been worked on no earlier than March 15th. I was selective about what I included in the count, relying on my years of experience looking at scaling and how its appearance changes over time and this passage from Tanner for the criteria:
Ivory bill sign shows as bare places on recently dead limbs and trees, where bark has been scaled off clean and to a considerable extent. Pileateds do some scaling too, but it is usually confined to smaller limbs and those longer dead. Freshness of the sign can be judged by any appearance of weathering, which will soon turn bare wood a grayish color. Extensive scaling of the bark from a tree which has died so recently that the bark is still tight, with a brownish or reddish color to the exposed wood showing that the work is fresh, is one good indication of the presence of ivorybills.
We had a number of visitors during my stay. Tom Foti joined me again on Tuesday and Wednesday, and Phil and Eric Vanbergen came along on Friday. I appreciate the Vanbergens’ help in collecting the data I’ll be discussing. It’s great to have such enthusiastic young people involved. Meanwhile, John Williams (Motiheal from ibwo.net) visited and spent four days in the field with Frank. Both John and Frank are planning to provide their own accounts, and those will be posted in the weeks ahead.
A general note about the week, leaf out progressed rapidly, and the change between Sunday the 20th and Saturday the 26th was dramatic. Nonetheless, I was able to find a good deal of feeding sign later in the week.
I arrived on the evening of Saturday, March 19th, and Frank and I spent the 20th in the northern sector. There had been severe flooding in the area earlier in the week; the waters had receded – we suspect by the 15th or 16th and certainly no earlier than the 15th. One of our trail cams, placed about 4’ above the ground, was completely overtopped, ruining the card and probably the camera as well. Such floods are exceedingly rare, perhaps a once in 500 year occurrence in the area. Fortunately, flooding tends to recede rapidly, but crossing both permanent and seasonal water bodies remained a much bigger challenge due to deep water and slick banks. The most stunning aspect of the flooding was the near total scouring of leaf litter in many parts of the search area, leaving bare soil and deposited silt visible. The landscape was transformed, and familiar spots looked radically different.
Frank often describes walking through the forest on dry leaf litter as “walking on cornflakes.” The absence of leaf litter limits the noise made by walking. This may be advantageous between now and late fall. Unfortunately, I anticipate being able to visit the area only once more before summer, probably in June.
The flooding had another benefit this trip. The absence of leaf litter makes it much easier to find fresh bark chips on the ground and to determine with some degree of certainty when scaling has taken place. The flood waters receded no earlier than March 15, so all fresh chips found below trees where the leaf litter had been scoured were no more than a week old.
When we reached the vicinity of the downed top, first discussed here, we heard a loud single knock. Frank’s initial reaction was that it might have been a gunshot, but we both agreed that the sound seemed to have come from a nearby source; we heard no other shots that day and saw only one vehicle, almost 2 miles away. Later in the morning we heard a couple of weak possible double knocks and later a very good sounding one.
We also found a little bit of scaling just north of the northern concentration discussed below. While some of it looked to be quite fresh, we did not find any bark chips.
The scaling in the first of the above photographs is somewhat marginal, as only a single smaller upper limb is involved. While I’m unsure, I don’t think I counted either of these trees, as I only started keeping track later in the week; both examples came from very close to the northern cluster discussed below.
I was on alone on the 20th, and I returned to the same area. I found a good deal more scaling.
In many cases, the scaling shows sign of progressing from treetops down, as Tanner described.
The detail of the small tree, scaled down to where small branches are still in leaf, is at the edge of a small pond around or in which I found five other trees with recent scaling on them, as well as two more with older work (not counted).
There was new work on one of the trees I found last month, the larger one in the background, below. I found several other scaled trees in the immediate vicinity, including the one in the foreground, on which we’ve now deployed a camera, and much of that work was fresh too. I chose a spot for a stakeout and spent about an hour watching the treetops in this area of concentrated work. This location is 140 yards south of the small pond described above and is at the southern boundary of the cluster. During the stakeout, I heard a loud single knock that seemed to have come from the vicinity of the small pond.
As I was leaving, I passed the pond again and found what appeared to be new scaling on one of the trees at its edge. There were fresh chips in floating in the water at the base.
Tom Foti arrived on the morning of the 22nd. We spent the day in the one of the southern areas where we’ve found concentrations of bark scaling in past years and where there have been both possible visual and auditory encounters. We found several scaled trees in this area but did not see or hear anything.
I met up with Tom on the morning of the 23rd; I had decided overnight to be more methodical in my approach to documenting scaling. I’ve been so focused on what might be diagnostic that I haven’t attempted to quantify what I’ve found thus far and haven’t kept detailed location information. Thus, it seems like a good idea to start keeping better track. This should prove useful if we can document that ivorybills are present and that they are responsible for the bark removal.
Tom and I heard 6-8 likely kents at ~9:00 am, this at the downed top where we had the camera, the same location where Frank had his sighting last spring. The calls came from three directions, south, east, and west.
We headed south and met up with Frank and John in the core of the northern concentration, south of the pond. We did an extended playback series; John will have more to say about the specifics in his post. We all heard a nearby double knock during the playback; Tom, John, and I were sitting close together near the speaker and thought it was a single, but Frank, who was positioned closer to the source of the natural sound, called it as a double.
We found some very fresh bark chips (moist with sap) at the base of a 12” DBH dying sweet gum that has areas of scaling high on the bole. The tree (which is shown above) is only a few meters from the one found last month. We’ve deployed a camera aimed at this bole. Given the quantity of activity in the area and the evidence of return visits to feeding trees, we hope to get some hits before long.
We removed a piece of bark from a looser spot on a nearby downed tree (which had been fed on by woodpeckers both before and after it fell). Beneath the bark were Cerambycid larvae, pupae that I also suspect are also Cerambycids, and what I think may be a very young Elaterid larva. We placed some of these larvae and pupae on the piece of bark to illustrate. We suspect that Allen did the same for what became Plate 10 in Tanner.
On the way out and not far from the cluster, I spotted what appears to be the start of a large, irregularly shaped cavity. We’ll monitor this and see whether there’s any further excavation.
It rained heavily on the morning of the 24th. I spent part of the afternoon trying to take measurements but didn’t have much success, since I was using an ordinary tape measure.
On the 25th, Phil and Eric Vanbergen joined me and we took measurements in the two areas where there are concentrations of scaling, finding several more trees in the process. When I got back to Frank’s, the forester’s DBH measuring tape I ordered had arrived, making it possible for me to take measurements on my own.
I spent the 26th measuring suspected feeding trees in the southern area and found several more with recent work on them.
Except for feeding sign, I did not see or hear anything suggestive of ivorybills during my last three days in the area.
Now I’ll turn to some of the data I collected this week.
I counted 29 suspected recent feeding trees in the two areas, 13 in the northern sector and 16 in the southern. I did not count work that appeared to be more than a year old or work that was limited to very small branches.
The areas are 2.05 miles apart. The northern area was logged (probably partially) in 1905, although there may have been some later selective cutting. The southern area was logged in 1935. Forest composition is somewhat different between the two areas, with sweet gums seeming to be less predominant in the southern one. In the southern area, the scaled trees are in a narrow, almost linear strip with an area of .13 square miles/83.2 acres/33.67 hectares. The northern cluster is more compact and polygonal, with a total area of .03 square miles/19.2 acres/7.7 hectares. Within both areas, scaled trees were often found in groups of 2-6 – 11 out of 13 trees in the northern area and 11 out 16 in the southern. (This includes the cluster in and around the pond, which is perhaps 30 meters in diameter, but otherwise applies to trees that I estimated to be 20 meters apart or less.)
Scaled trees ranged from 6.5” dbh to over 5’ (estimated) for a gum with a split trunk, one stem live and the other dead. All but 3 inaccessible trees were measured.
76% of the trees were alive, sometimes just barely, with scaling on dead or nearly dead limbs or boles. There was scaling on live parts of one or possibly two of the trees.
Though we have found scaling on boles of larger trees in the past, all trees scaled on boles were 12” DBH or less. While these measurements may not be meaningful absent a random sampling of trees in each sector for comparison, I thought the numbers might be of some interest even now, especially in light of the recent discussion of Tanner:
This is obviously a very small sample, but I think it’s interesting nonetheless. The three smallest trees in the northern sector were all in or near a pond that appears to have had its outflow blocked in recent years. They probably died due to the change in hydrology. But for that difference, there seems to be an even greater favoring of 25-36” DBH trees than found by Tanner, and this is so even in the less mature southern sector (again without data on overall composition). This year, feeding sign has been found exclusively on sweet gums. We’ve found a few scaled oaks over the years and more bitternut hickories; I suspect the latter are being fed upon at a high rate relative to abundance. We’ve discussed doing some random sampling for tree size and species, but given our limited resources, this may not be worthwhile or feasible at present.
Of course, none of this proves that ivorybills are in our area, but I think it’s another indication that they are. The best-case scenario is that the dramatic increase in scaling this year and in this season is related to there being young in a nest or nests.