I had planned on writing just one more post before my next trip to the search area, but based on a small but important new development, I’ve decided to divide it into two parts. Part 2 will follow within a week or so. It will focus on the historic range both pre- and post-contact, beavers, and some further thoughts on how the ivorybill might have survived.
First, a small news item from the search area: last month Tommy Michot and Phil Vanbergen visited to check on the trail cams. One of the deployments (two cams) was inaccessible due to high water; unless flooding was extraordinary, the cameras themselves should be okay. Phil and Tom were able to reach the other two locations without difficulty. The target trees were untouched, and there was sufficient battery and card-life to keep the cameras operational until my next trip. They did not see or hear anything suggestive of ivorybill during their visit. I appreciate their braving the August heat and taking the time to get to the area.
I’ve been reviewing copies of Louisiana Conservationist (formerly Louisiana Conservation Review), the official publication of the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries (formerly the Department of Conservation). Copies of the magazine, which is in the public domain, can be found in the Louisiana Digital Library. In the course of my research, I found one real gem and a couple of interesting pieces of less significance.
The gem is the initial report on the 1932 Singer Tract rediscovery and T. Gilbert Pearson’s visit to the area. Pearson was the first professional ornithologist to observe the Singer Tract birds. I’ve written previously about Pearson’s visit and have referenced newspaper accounts of his observations. At the time, I was focused on feeding sign and the statement about feeding on rotting stumps. As a result, I overlooked the important fact that Pearson had been searching for ivorybills to no avail since 1891; this highlights the difficulty in finding ivorybills, even during the era of relentless collecting.
The newspaper articles were somewhat less detailed than Coogan’s account, which includes some interesting tidbits. It seems likely that Pearson himself provided the information to Coogan, either directly or via Armand Daspit. There’s an inaccuracy; the mention of carpenter ants as prey is not supported by the literature.* The only record of nesting in pines is in Thompson (1885), a record that Tanner deemed “questionable”.
Somewhat more interesting is the observation, “Occasionally it feeds on the ground like a Flicker”. In 1937, Allen and Kellogg would publish a paper describing their 1924 observation of a female ivorybill foraging on the ground and “hopping like a Flicker”. It’s possible that Pearson was aware of this observation, and the reference to scaling the bark of dead pines suggests this is so. (There were no pines in the Singer Tract.) At the same time it’s also possible that Pearson observed the Singer Tract birds foraging on the ground or described foraging behavior based on general knowledge of how ivorybills in Florida, where he grew up, typically fed.
More significant and relevant to the recordings Matt Courtman and Phil made in March of this year is the description of ivorybill calls and the pattern of calling observed. I didn’t pay much attention to the description, but Matt, who was present during the extended period of calling on March 15 was struck by it. For Matt, the correction of Audubon was significant, and as he posted on Facebook: “Please note the description of the calls being from “one to fifty” over a few minutes. This matches perfectly what we recorded in March. Very exciting!!!” Matt’s strongest doubts about the calls had to do with cadence and the lack of calls in groups of three.
Matt elaborated in an email this morning. I asked him to allow me to post it in full, and he graciously agreed. His perspective sheds additional light on the March recordings, among other ivorybill related matters. It’s worth reading.
The other interesting tidbits from Louisiana Conservationist pertain to possible ivorybill sightings in the 1950s. Both items (letters from readers and responses from state officials) are certainly questionable, but they also point to the way Pileated Woodpecker became the default, even when the description was inconsistent with PIWO.
The first is interesting for its location. Urania, Louisiana is southwest of the Singer Tract and is relatively close to the Project Coyote search areas. It was founded by Harry Hardtner in the 1890s and is considered the birthplace of conservation and reforestation in Louisiana. The image that prompted the letter is included for reference.
The second letter is peculiar, but the description is considerably more suggestive of ivorybill than Pileated – like a Red-headed Woodpecker but the size of a chicken.
There’s one additional tidbit that doesn’t pertain to Louisiana. In the past, I’ve wondered about record committee submissions and how many there may have been over the years. A divided Arkansas committee accepted the Big Woods report (a fact that’s often glossed over in the literature), while the Florida committee rejected the Auburn reports. Other than these submissions, I was aware of one from Texas, from out of range and in unlikely habitat. I recently ran across another, from Florida, also rejected but interesting nonetheless. Here it is, for what it’s worth:
Ivory-billed woodpecker, Campephilus principalis.
FOSRC 2011-852. This bird was described from an observation in suburban St. Augustine, St. Johns Co., on 13 April 2011. Although the observation included key characters of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker, such as a white bill and white pattern on the back while perched, the observation was at a distance of 30 m and made without binoculars. It is the Committee’s opinion that the only acceptable submissions of this species would be those with veri able evidence (e.g, identifiable photographs or video). The recent controversy over video recordings, audio recordings, and sightings in Arkansas (Sibley et al. 2006) and Florida (FOSRC #06-610, Kratter 2008) calls into question whether the species may have persisted into the twenty-first century.
*Ants are described as a prey species in Bendire (1895), but this is based on a misreading of Thompson (1885). Allen and Kellogg (1937) mention an observation involving suspected feeding on ants but found no ants or termites when they examined the substrate. The closest thing to evidence for ants as prey involves a Cuban Ivory-billed Woodpecker with a hugely overgrown bill that was observed feeding on arboreal termites – a species not native to the continental United States. It was observed and collected by Gundlach in 1843 and was also being fed grubs by its companions. Jackson speculates that this might have been a young adult bird, but given the extent of the hypertrophy, this strikes me as being somewhat unlikely. I’ll opt for the altruistic possibility that Jackson also posits. (Jackson 2004).
I had been planning to do a post with various ivorybill related tidbits in anticipation of the search season, which begins next month. That will be coming in a week or so, but I want to say a little more about Bill Pulliam first (beyond his Luneau video analyses, which I think should be dispositive). This decision was inspired in part by one of our advisors who pointed similarities between what Bill observed in Tennessee and what we’re seeing in Louisiana. While the physical characteristics of our old search area seem to have more in common with Moss Island, Tennessee than where we’re currently focused, Bill’s perspectives are relevant to both.
Edited to add: Moss Island is a small wildlife management area encompassing 3400 acres. I’m not sure what percentage is mature bottomland hardwood forest, but there are a variety of other habitat types. Compared to our search areas it is relatively isolated and distant from other large tracts of forest.
As an aside, Cyberthrush also has a post honoring Bill with a link to an eBird tribute.
With comments included, Bill’s series of posts on Moss Island runs to nearly 54,000 words. There’s no telling how long this series will remain readily accessible online, and indeed some of the images and sound files are no longer available. The entire series is worth reading and saving if you’re seriously interested in the ivorybill. It starts here.
On re-reading the posts for the first time in eight years, I’m struck by how much Bill influenced me without my recognizing it and/or how much the evolution of my understanding between 2009 and today is congruent with the ideas he expressed just as I was getting more deeply involved in searching.
Like Bill, I suspect that the near extirpation and revival of the beaver may be central to the ivorybill’s decline and survival (more about this in my next post). Like Bill, I think that Tanner’s model failed to account for environmental changes that had taken place in the preceding centuries. Like Bill, I think that if the ivorybill survived, it had to have adapted in ways that are inconsistent with Tanner’s a priori assumption that the species is old-growth dependent.
Bill was tough-minded and opinionated. There were times when I thought he considered me a somewhat annoying amateur. While we hadn’t communicated about it in recent years, he took a dim view of my efforts to make sense of feeding sign in the early days. Most of our correspondence took place in the 2000s, while he was still actively blogging about the ivorybill. After that, I sought his input sparingly.
My last exchange of emails with him pertained to the March recordings. Without quoting him directly, I think it’s fair to say he thought the calls were likely or more than likely Ivory-billed Woodpecker. He also thought it unlikely that birds were resident in our search area, based on the pattern of potential encounters, the paucity of strong sightings, and lack of conclusive evidence. I’m not sure I agree; I wish there had been a chance to explore this topic in more depth and that he’d been able to see our search area for himself. Nonetheless, his perspective has led me to consider that other nearby forested areas deserve more attention than we’ve given them to date.
I’ll conclude with three paragraphs from his final post in the Moss Island series. It’s as true today as it was in November 2009 (though I suspect nesting may take place in fragmented second growth, as in our old search area). I hope it inspires you to read the rest. More from me soon.
How does this relate to Moss Island? By Cornell standards, our habitat is unsuitable. Hence, our encounters are largely dismissed out of hand. By doing so, the Cornell approach has painted themselves into a rather nasty corner. The logic is simple. To all appearances, we have Campephilus-like double knocks that are at least as good as what has been heard in the “core habitat” such as Big Woods and Congaree. If one claims that in “core habitat” these represent evidence for the possible presence of Ivorybills, but in “marginal” or “unsuitable” habitat they provide no evidence for the possible presence of Ivorybills, one has committed a logical no-no of the first magnitude. If the same sounds come from places where you have concluded that Ivorybills are not going to be, then you should conclude that these sounds have no relevance to Ivorybills anywhere. Conversely, if you feel these sounds are evidence of the possible presence of Ivorybills in South Carolina or Arkansas, then you must also accept that they would be evidence of the same in Tennessee, Illinois, Mississippi, Florida, Louisiana, and Texas. You can’t have it both ways.
Anyone who seriously considers that Ivorybills might still persist, and that double knocks and other soft evidence have a relevance to indicating their possible presence, should accept that the evidence in total suggests their habitat requirements might be broader than has been assumed by Cornell et al. I’m not suggesting they will nest in fragmented second growth, or even use it as a full-time habitat; but there are ample indications that if these sort of encounters mean anything anywhere then the birds indeed are using fragmented “marginal” habitats for at least parts of their life history. These habitats are hugely more extensive than the “core” habitats, hence this possibility raises all sorts of further hypothetical possibilities for the natural history, survival, and conservation of the species, all of them positive. In the alternative philosophy to Cornell’s, you search where you have learned of rumors, whispers, or credible declarations that something of interest might have been seen or heard there. This of course requires a lot of judgement, and eventually everyone will draw the line somewhere; I’d not put much stock in reports from western Kansas, for example — although good double knocks in Nebraska or Vermont would settle a lot about what they might mean in Arkansas! But until and unless we actually find some reproducible birds and determine what their 21st Century habitat use patterns really are, minds should be kept open.
You will not get anyone involved in the Tennessee project to state that we have established the presence of an Ivory-billed Woodpecker anywhere in Tennessee as a statistical or scientific certainty. None of us has put an Ivorybill on his or her life list. However, if you asked us off the record for our own personal unscientific feelings, I think you would hear several confessions that indeed, some of us do strongly suspect that there has been at least one of these critters tormenting and taunting us in the delta woods for the last several years. Which means we also think that all that follows from this about habitat, behavior, distribution, etc. should be given serious consideration. Interconnected mosaics of fragmented second growth bottomland forest should be included within the spectrum of possible habitats for the species. You will not get anyone involved in the Tennessee project to state that we have established the presence of an Ivory-billed Woodpecker anywhere in Tennessee as a statistical or scientific certainty. None of us has put an Ivorybill on his or her life list. However, if you asked us off the record for our own personal unscientific feelings, I think you would hear several confessions that indeed, some of us do strongly suspect that there has been at least one of these critters tormenting and taunting us in the delta woods for the last several years. Which means we also think that all that follows from this about habitat, behavior, distribution, etc. should be given serious consideration. Interconnected mosaics of fragmented second growth bottomland forest should be included within the spectrum of possible habitats for the species.
I just received the sad news that Bill Pulliam recently and suddenly succumbed to lung cancer that was caught too late.
I never met Bill but corresponded with him and got his input from time to time. I respected and admired him immensely. As long time readers know, I think his analyses of the Luneau video and the Rhein Imperial Woodpecker footage are compelling. I encourage people to read all of his posts on the subject (catalogued at the first link).
He will be missed by many.
This most recent trip was very snakey, meaning I nearly stepped on several – cottonmouths and timber rattlesnakes. In all my years of searching, I’ve seen six rattlers, three on the most recent trip.
Rather than do a day by day log, I’m just going to post the highlights this time. I took few photos, mostly of reptiles.
I made this trip with absolutely no expectations, given the time of year, although I had hopes that one of our target trees might have been hit. As is so often the case, my hopes went unfulfilled, even as my expectations were exceeded.
I was joined by wildlife biologists Tommy Michot and Peggy Shrum for the entire trip. Phil Vanbergen came along on Saturday. Phil has heard Pale-billed Woodpecker double knocks, and Peggy has heard numerous Campephilus DKs while doing fieldwork in South America.
There was no fresh work on the hickories we have targeted, but we are reviewing the trail cam photos nonetheless. We found another hickory that recently lost its top and have targeted it, along with a nearby hickory and a beech, with our remaining trail cam. The cavities discussed in an earlier post are currently obscured by foliage.
We had possible auditory encounters, all knocks, on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and while I would label most of what we heard as “weak possibles”, the Thursday knocks were within one of our “hot zones”, not far from where the March recordings were made. The Friday knocks were in a different area, one we visit infrequently. In most instances, these knocks were heard by one or the other of us, but on Friday, we had some instances where two or all three of us heard them. And all of the Friday knocks were heard in the same general area over a couple of hours.
The Saturday knocks were a lot more interesting. Here’s a detailed description:
Tommy, Peggy, Phil, and went to deploy the trail camera. Peggy has heard many Campephilus DKs in South America, and Phil has heard them in Costa Rica. We heard a possible ambient knock (I can’t be sure if it was an SK or DK) while walking; it was quite loud, but we initially dismissed it as a gunshot. About an hour later, after deploying a trail cam, we set up and did a series of Barred Owl playbacks followed by a DK series. I turned off the recorder after about 15 minutes, but we remained in the area, talking quietly. At 28 minutes after the DK series, we heard a loud SK followed by an apparent DK 5-10 seconds later. We considered and ruled out gunshots (absolutely impossible given the context) and tree fall (light winds, no rain since Tuesday, no rustling of leaves or other accompanying sounds, length of the interval between the first single knock and the subsequent double). Both Phil and Peggy thought it was very good for Campephilus. The source of the knocks was close, probably no more than 200-300 yards away.
About three minutes later, Phil and I heard another more distant DK; we both thought it was quite good, but Peggy and Tommy missed it. My recorder was running at this time, but it did not capture the sound.
After discussing it, none of us felt a gunshot was likely for the earlier knock, since there was no other shooting all day; it seemed to have been fairly close; in June, the only hunting in the area is for hogs, and it is infrequent; the road is quite a distance away; and we hadn’t seen another vehicle in the area all week.
I’m looking forward to returning in October and hope to have enough material for a couple of posts before then. I’m also delighted to have Peggy on board as part of the team; she brings a lot to the table. I’m hoping that coming seasons will involve an expanded team and a more concerted effort, so that we can obtain something conclusive or rule out ivorybill. My only regret about this most recent trip is that I didn’t harvest more chanterelles and didn’t start collecting them until our last day in the field. They were everywhere, and they are delicious.
Just over a year ago, I quoted at length from a 1949 letter to Tanner from Arthur MacMurray (a former student). I’m reposting that transcript below and have some additional commentary. Eckelberry’s famous “last” John’s Bayou sighting in April 1944 has become a legend, even though Peterson, writing in 1948, had the lone female remaining at John’s Bayou until December 1946.
John’s Bayou aside, the MacMurray letter suggests that at least three ivorybills remained in the vicinity of the Singer Tract until the end of 1948, although not in the areas that Tanner studied. I read these reports as involving at least three birds because Willett mentioned a pair, whereas Williams and McCallip involve a lone bird. The Williams and Willett reports seem highly credible to me, given that Willett undoubtedly knew ivorybills and MacMurray seems to have trusted Williams’s ability to recognize the species.
I have tried to identify the locations involved. Little Fork Road still exists, south of Little Fork Bayou. It is west of the Tensas, about 10 miles northwest of John’s Bayou. North Lake #1 presented a challenge. The only North Lake I could find in the area is the North Lake Marydale Oilfield, which is in Tensas Parish, about 18 miles south-southwest of John’s Bayou and 20 miles south of Little Fork Road, just outside what is now Buckhorn Wildlife Management Area. While it’s possible that MacMurray (via Willett) was referring to a designation on a lumber company map (H. Baldwin, pers. comm.), it seems reasonable to infer that this is the North Lake referenced in the letter.
It may be worth noting that as of 1943, a number of relatively small parcels in the vicinity of Little Fork Bayou, including the McCallip property, were not owned by Chicago Mill or Singer. Perhaps these parcels provided at least a temporary refuge, MacMurray’s reference to all he saw having been cut over notwithstanding. Perhaps this hints at how the remaining Singer Tract birds were dispersing or surviving in degraded habitat. Beyond that, there may be little to infer, except that while Eckelberry and the Fought boys’ “last sighting” was valid and makes for a moving story, its lastness is folklore.
The Singer Tract has been cleaned of all its commercial timber as far as I could gather. No Ivorybills have been seen at John’s Bayou for at least three years, according to a resident who has lived adjacent to it for twenty-two years. ( . . . but he is on the lookout for them and remembers you.) John’s Bayou has a lumber railway passing thru it and passing all the way north to some point due west of Tallullah. The Ivorybills apparently left John’s Bayou soon after the large gum tree which had been their nest tree for several years was lumbered.
Mr. Gus Willett is still the local game warden. I phoned him. He expresses his best regards to you. He says that only one pair of Ivorybills are known to be in the region (seen in late November), having moved to North Lake #1. He says that whatever Ivorybills are left are apparently wandering over much larger areas than formerly. He says that all the old stands of gum tree are being lumbered now or very soon, so he thinks the prognosis for Ivorybills is dark and apt to be very brief. He doesn’t know whether or not Ivorybills have been found elsewhere in Louisiana or elsewhere in Florida in the past few years.
A friend of the gentleman who resides adjacent to John’s Bayou reported that he saw what he thought was an Ivorybill on E.C. McCallip’s property on the Little Fork Road 6 miles south of Waverly on December 17th of 1948. So Dot and I spent the night in Tallullah and visited McCallip’s place (minus boots – It was very muddy) All the land we saw looked cut over. There were lots of woodpeckers. Saw 5 Pileateds but none of their cousins. I questioned Mr. Ward Williams (address: Del Hi, Route 1, Box 184-A, Madison Parish, Louisiana) who recognizes Ivorybills and distinguishes between them and the “native” (pileated) peckerwoods. He claims to have seen an Ivory Bill there in November. He regards them as nesting residents and thinks he can find a nest of them there without very much hunting. I left my address, and he intends to write next time he sees a bird. He and his visitors were aware of Ivorybills having been at the Sharkey place adjacent (or in) to Singer Tract.
Dot and I found it expedient under the murky circumstances to proceed on to New Orleans for Xmas day.
. . .
Wish I had more optimistic new regarding the what kind of future we dealt the big-woods peckerwood.
I returned to the search area last week and spent as much time as I could in the field. The trip was generally uneventful, and conditions – strong winds, rain, and high water – limited my field time. Woodpeckers are getting quieter generally; full leaf out, heat (temperatures in the high 80s on the 26th, 27th, and 28th), and abundant mosquitoes make things even more difficult at this time of year; nevertheless, I’m planning one more trip before summer.
On the 26th, I hiked to hickory stub that currently has two cameras trained on it, as one camera needed securing. There were no signs of woodpecker activity on the stub. This beautiful Great Egret in a beautiful spot was a highlight. There were Little Blue Herons in the vicinity too, but I couldn’t get a clear shot, too much mud and intervening vegetation.
On the 27th, I arrived at the “listening point” (where the March recordings were made) shortly after sunrise. I opted to sit quietly, rather than doing playback or ADKs. I did not see or hear anything.
I met up with Steve Pagans at around 10 am. Since water levels were low, we were able to get closer to the snag with the cavity that I found last month. I spotted a second cavity higher on the stub, on the opposite side.
These cavities are large, similar in size, shape, and unusual appearance. While I suspect they are no longer active roosts, we will put a camera on the snag in June, if it’s feasible to do so. The nest John Dennis found in Cuba appeared to have two entrance holes, although Dennis thought one might be too small.
On the hike out, I spotted this wolf spider with her young on her back.
On the 29th, Steve and I visited one of the less accessible parts of the search area. It is an impressive patch of forest, with some oaks and sweet gums approaching or surpassing 5′ DBH. The sweet gum below is probably the largest single trunked gum we’ve found.
Reminiscent of the Singer Tract.
Predicted wind speeds were 15-20 mph, and the gusts were undoubtedly stronger, so birds were not very active. The gusts were often unnerving, and a couple of large limbs fell, uncomfortably close to us, while we were stopped for lunch.
The forecast for the 30th was for even stronger winds, with thunderstorms in the afternoon. We decided to play it safe and stay out of the woods. Steve went home, and I spent part of the day driving scouting a large patch of nearby forest by car, but I wasn’t able to reach the bottomland area that had intrigued me on Google Earth.
The rains didn’t arrive until evening, but they were very heavy, with 3-4″ overnight. Thunderstorms continued until mid-morning on the 1st, so I didn’t venture out until about 10:30. Conditions were cool and cloudy, and everything was soaking wet. My movements were limited by high water levels; these continued to rise during the four hours I spent in the field. Avian activity was again minimal. Coming across this rattlesnake, the third or fourth I’ve found over the years, was the day’s highlight.
On May 2nd, my last field day, I spent the early morning trying to get to the hickory stub and trail cams. Water levels were too high, so I returned to my car and drove to a more accessible location. While I have been concentrating on it less this season, there have been a number of possible contacts in this area, and we have found abundant sweet gum scaling there every year. As has been discussed in several recent posts, classic, ‘Tanneresque’ high branch scaling on freshly dead sweet gums is not necessarily inconsistent with Pileated Woodpecker.
Still, I found some very dramatic work on the dead fork of a dying gum. Phil and I first found this tree in February, but most of the scaling has taken place since then. Of particular note were the enormous bark chips found at the base, again all removed since the end of January. My hat, which is shown for scale, is 12.5″ x 12″. Note that this scaling involves some of the largest limbs. Since some gum balls are still attached to the dead limbs, I think it’s safe to assume that the bark remains relatively tight; the scaling also looks generally clean, something that I find suggestive of ivorybill. To the best of my recollection, the bark chips are the largest I’ve ever found from sweet gum limbs.
Later that morning, I found a mildly intriguing cavity in a small sweet gum (~18″ DBH). While it’s almost surely PIWO, I’m including it because the shape and skewed angle are somewhat interesting and also to illustrate that even smaller trees can host substantial cavities. The original image was badly backlit, so I’ve brightened it and rendered it in black and white to make the cavity easier to see. Referencing Dennis again, he estimated the diameter of his Cuban nest tree at 12″. While DNA evidence suggests the Cuban IBWO is/was a different species, more closely related to the Imperial than to the US IBWO, the conditions under which Dennis found a breeding pair seem relevant to the survival of the North American species, and the ‘old growth specialist’ caricature:
There was a sprinkling of deciduous trees, some quite large. Although this region had been heavily logged and burned over as well, growth was quite luxuriant in spots. A watercourse, as well as the generally rugged terrain, had prevented a clean sweep of all the timber. The pine trees, on the whole, were limited to less than five inches in diameter.
There may be more on this in an upcoming post.
Longtime readers of the blog have probably noticed the donate button and the advertising that now appears on the site. Project Coyote has been mostly self-funded from the start, except for a few donations from anonymous individuals and the Rapides Wildlife Association. Some used equipment has been passed on to us by other groups of searchers. I’ve long believed that we’d be able to document ivorybill presence (or go a long way toward ruling it out) with more consistent coverage in the area and a relatively modest budget.
At this point, remote recording units and a couple of additional cameras are at the top of the wish list. Ultimately, I’d love to be able to cover costs for our core group and to provide funding for one or two people to be in the area steadily, at least during February, March, and April. I can dream . . . Anyway, your contributions can help make some of this possible.
Before Frank’s passing, I had decided to ‘retire’ from active searching after this season, for a number of reasons – the sense that I had nothing further to say about feeding sign and the fact that I did not personally see or hear anything strongly suggestive of ivorybill presence in the 2015-2016 season among them. The lack of recent work on hickories was particularly discouraging.
Things started to change when Frank was in the hospital. It became clear that our search was important not only to Frank but also to his family and friends. A number of long-time, mostly quiet, enthusiasts and supporters (including Matt Courtman who had visited the area with Frank some years ago) reached out and encouraged me to continue and even to intensify the effort.
Shortly thereafter, Phil Vanbergen found some recent scaling of the kind that I think is diagnostic for ivorybill on two hickories, though it turned out the work was not as fresh as initially suspected. The trail cam capture of a PIWO removing a strip of bark from one of the trees led me to begin my first March trip in a somewhat pessimistic frame of mind. It didn’t take long for that to change – another ride on what I’ve taken to calling the IBWO-llercoaster.
I arrived in the search area on March 9 and met up with two out-of-state birders with whom Frank and I had been corresponding for some time. I showed them around the search area. They were impressed by the habitat, but we did not see or hear anything significant. On the morning of the 10th, I sent an email to some of the team expressing my frustration over not having had a “compelling recent encounter” and stating that my possible October sighting didn’t meet that standard (even now, I don’t think it compares to the March recordings.)
I was on my own on the 10th and had a slightly less discouraging day; I got my first opportunity to examine the scaled hickories Phil had found. This strengthened my suspicion that the recent PIWO work was “wake feeding”. Later, I met Matt for dinner and a strategy session.
Everything changed on the 11th. In addition to satisfying myself that the extensive scaling on the hickories was at least several months old and that the recent Pileated activity was likely secondary scaling (based primarily on the small bark chips); over the course of the day, we deployed three of our four trail cameras.
Even more importantly, we had auditory encounters in both the morning and the afternoon. Here is my write up from that day, with a few redactions.
At about 10:15, we were in close proximity to where we’ve had several possible contacts, most recently when I was out with Frank in October. We’d just deployed a second trail cam, and Matt had gone about 50 yards north and west of Phil and me. He texted and asked if he could do some DKs (he’s using two wooden blocks that he knocks together.) He did several, no particular pattern, mixed ASKs in with the ADKs.
I did not take notes, and my memory of the exact sequence is weak, but I heard 5-6 DKs and SKs coming from the east in response. If I remember correctly, there was at least some interplay between the ADKs and the DKs, meaning that there were a couple, and then a pause, then Matt DK’ed and there were replies. Matt said he heard 4-5, and I think Phil said he heard 3-4.
Whether or not I’m misremembering, it was far and away the most compelling series of responses I’ve ever heard, and I’ve done hundreds of ADK sessions. **** this was similar to what you encountered on your first trip, in the same general vicinity, but a lot more dramatic. In addition, there was no ambient foraging, and other than the responses, all we got was one PIWO drum from a different direction. Phil said that one of the DKs was very similar to the Pale-billed DKs he heard in Costa Rica last summer.
For the kents, we were at a different location a few miles away; the time was approximately 2:45 pm. Phil and Matt heard a number of calls, of which I only heard two. Of the two I heard, the first was on the low-pitched side, I’d say close to the pitch of the what Tanner called “conversational” calls on the Singer Tract recordings or what Frank and I called the “wonka wonkas”; it had a trumpet-like quality, maybe more than I’d expect for an IBWO, but still in the ballpark. The second was higher pitched and more tooty/reedy, very close to the Singer Tract recordings. The wind was dead calm for the second call, so it was not a tree squeak. In both cases, the calls came from the East.
. . .
So there we are. Quite a day. Now, if we could only find out what’s making the sounds and what’s knocking the bark off the hickories at the outset.
For those who missed it, here’s Phil’s recording of two of those calls – headphones or good speakers recommended. We did not record the knocks we heard in the morning.
On the 12th, Steve Pagans, Matt, and I returned to the location and heard 1 ambient DK and 2 SKs, at approximately 1:55 pm.
These sounds came from roughly the same direction as the calls we’d heard the day before. The possible DK was not as loud as the SKs, or as yesterday’s knocks, but it was distinct. Matt did some ADKs. There was a Red-bellied Woodpecker foraging to the south of the direction of the knocks. Matt’s ADKs seemed to induce it to bang more frequently and forcefully, but we didn’t hear any distinctly IBWO sounding knocks in response. Steve and I heard a single possible kent from the same direction as the possible SKs and DK. It was faint. Steve heard it better than I did and thought it was good; Matt didn’t hear it all. This was probably due to how we were positioned in terms of proximity to the sound.
Under normal circumstances I’d label this episode as a fairly weak possible, marginally worthy of mention on the blog. But given the location, it seems more significant.
The 13th was also eventful. Matt and I opted to return to the area where we’d heard the knocks on the morning of the 11th and give the other location a rest. Here’s my write up of the morning’s possible auditory encounter.
We decided to do a mix of playback and DKs at 9:40 AM. I did about a minute and a half of playback, using the iBird app (3 rounds – 28 seconds of Kents, “conversational” calls, and tapping). Matt followed with perhaps a minute of knocking wood blocks together. Over the course of the following five minutes, we had several knocks. Initially, Matt heard a single that I think I missed. It was followed by a very loud knock coming from the East. It was VERY loud and clear, what Frank would have described as some banging on a tree with a baseball bat. Shortly thereafter, another sound came from my left, roughly north of us. Matt heard it as a single, but I heard it as a double, with the second to my ears perhaps the closest thing to what Tanner described as an echo of the first I’ve ever heard. After that, we heard another loud single roughly from the southwest. The last was more distant and somewhat less striking.
The first single knock and the one I heard as a double were astonishing. There’s no doubt in my mind or his that these were neither mechanical sounds nor foraging. I am kicking myself hard for not having my recorder running; I’ve gotten too jaded about auditory encounters, and it’s a little tough to manage both recording and generating sounds.
A little later, I found a dying chestnut oak with some mildly intriguing feeding sign. There were some huge, thick bark chips on the ground and this, more than the appearance of the work on the tree, struck me as potentially suggestive; this is the first interesting work I’ve found on an oak in several years.
Matt and I returned to this location on the morning of the 14th. Matt did ADK series on the half hour until shortly before noon. It was a cold and windy morning, uncomfortably so. We heard nothing of interest.
On the 15th, I headed for New Orleans and my flight the following morning. Phil and Matt returned to the woods and captured numerous calls between 7 and 11 am. When I heard the recordings I cleared the decks and made arrangements to return as soon as I possibly could.
Patricia and I were back in the woods by lunchtime on the 23rd. Louis Shackleton – a good friend, professional photographer, and birder who happened to be in Louisiana – joined us on the 24th. We didn’t see or hear anything of interest and left early ahead of predicted heavy rains.
At shortly after 11:00 am on the 25th, Patricia and I heard some possible double knocks in apparent response to some very aggressive knocking on my part; two of these knocks came from roughly north and one from the east (the same direction from which the March 15th calls were coming). I’m still reviewing the audio from this trip and may have additional material to post in the future.
I went out alone on the 26th, returning to the same vicinity, and did not see or hear anything interesting.
We were rained out on the 27th. On the 28th, I found a large cavity not far from where the calls were recorded. It does not appear to be fresh enough to be a recent nest, but we plan to target it with a trail cam in the event that it’s being used as a roost. This find illustrates how difficult it is to spot cavities in our search area – six people had spent the better part of multiple days in the immediate vicinity before I noticed it, and the snag is in plain view.
More storms came through on the night of the 28th, and the next morning Patricia and I decided to take a break from the “hot zone” and instead visited the area where Phil found the recently scaled hickories and where Matt, Phil, and I had heard knocks on the 11th and 13th. We found that one of Phil’s scaled hickories had lost its top, which gave me a chance to examine one of the scaled areas up close. As expected, the wood was somewhat punky, and and the bark was fairly easy to remove by hand.
We also discovered that the top of one of our target hickories had been blown off. The tree shows signs of beetle infestation, which gives us reason to hope that it will be visited by woodpeckers before too long.
It was interesting to get a close look at this freshly fallen top and examine how hickory bark separates from the trunk under these circumstances. While it seems to come free fairly easily in very large strips, the bark is extraordinarily tough and strong. When fresh, it’s flexible but very hard to break; doing so requires twisting, and it won’t fracture. Within about 48 hours the piece I collected had dried out and become surprisingly hard. This further reinforced my view that Pileated Woodpeckers are not anatomically equipped to scale large chunks of bark from live or freshly dead hickories.
It was a beautiful day in the woods, and some of the other highlights included recently hatched Wood Ducklings, a posing Yellow-crowned Night Heron, and the first ‘gator (a small one) I’ve ever seen in the area.
The next morning, I returned and redeployed a second camera, which had been trained on another nearby hickory, to the one with the downed top so that we can cover the entire stub.
We spent the morning of the 31st in the area where the calls were recorded before catching an afternoon flight. We did not note any interesting sounds while in the field, but after listening through Patricia’s recordings, I noted the possible double knock discussed in the previous post.
I’m planning two more trips before summer. I anticipate that we’ll have all cams deployed and have high hopes for the hickory stub.
Meanwhile, I thought I’d throw in some additional images that may help to convey what a special and magnificent place this is.