Matt spent several days in the search area after my departure. On the afternoon of March 19, he staked out a fresh cavity approximately .25 mile from a location where I recorded a double knock in apparent reaction to an ADK in 2014 and where we captured some intriguing trail cam images. This is about a mile from where Matt and Phil recorded numerous kent-like calls last year.
After more than two weeks of steady presence in the area, and no possible contacts, Matt heard and captured one distinct kent-like call a few minutes after sunset. On reviewing the audio, I found two additional calls about 16 minutes earlier on the recording. There’s also a very faint possible call that comes approximately 2 minutes and 35 seconds before the most distinct one; it’s so faint that I’ve opted not to extract and include it here. Before providing some commentary, Here’s Matt’s description of his experience and observations:
While on the stakeout described above, I began recording at 6:51 p.m., exactly thirty minutes prior to official sunset for that date and location of 7:21 p.m. For the four days prior to this one, I had been keeping notes on “last of the day” woodpecker sounds. Small sample size, but the woodpeckers had consistently gone silent at six to four minutes prior to official sunset on each preceding day. Falling into the trap of unwarranted speculation, I noted with some sadness that sunset had passed without any intriguing sounds.
The following clip runs approximately 1 minute and 45 seconds (to give a sense of the ambient sounds and conditions); the kent-like call comes at 1:36.
Here is a much shorter, amplified extract. The call should be easy to hear.
The sonogram suggests that the call has a fundamental frequency somewhere between 515 and 550 hz. There’s a strong second partial and a weaker third partial (the horizontal lines to the right of center). While the sonogram is not a perfect match for last year’s recordings (or the Singer Tract recordings for that matter), my ears and my common sense tell me that the source of the calls is the same. While the frequency is slightly lower than most of the calls recorded by Hill et al. on the Choctawhatchee, the structure is very similar. (See figures E and F.)
The two additional calls I found are very faint and presumably more distant. I was not able to tease out a sonogram with my software, even with a lot of amplification. The calls may be hard to hear without headphones, so listen carefully. The first clip is unamplified, and the second is pushed as far as was practical.
Bob Ford had the following to say about the first call (heard by Matt in the field):
“I spent a little more time on this one than I usually do . . . . I don’t do the sonogram analysis work myself but instead listen, compare to other known/recorded sounds, use my field experience etc.
I cannot think of a single thing that would make this sound other than ivory-bill. For me, it’s easy to dismiss the usual suspects like Blue Jay or tree squeaks etc. I fall back to turkey and wood duck. I’ve heard both species make sounds I never knew were possible from those animals. But in this case, even stretching, I can’t make it into turkey or wood duck. The sound is too robust, too “direct” (hard to explain, maybe I mean punctuated?), it’s a single sound (my experience turkey and wood duck continue even if its same sound). It’s not artificial, I believe it came from an animal. I agree, this is about as hot as it gets lead-wise.”
As I pointed out to Bob and the rest of the team, Matt’s call and the ones recorded last year have frequencies and structures that are closer to geese than some of the other confusion species, though I’m convinced that none of the calls we’ve recorded came from geese. These Canada Goose sonograms illustrate the similarity. Jackson, pp. 179-180, also notes the similarity between IBWO sounds and those made by geese.
Cornell’s criteria call for fundamental frequencies between 580 and 780 hz. (the frequency of the kents on the Singer Tract recordings). As already noted, Matt’s sound is somewhat lower pitched, but not outside the capacity of an Ivory-billed Woodpecker. The calls on the Singer Tract recordings that Frank and I described as the “wonka-wonkas”, examples starting at around 3:14, are both goose like and have lower fundamental frequencies.
It’s also worth reiterating that the Singer Tract birds were obviously agitated when those recordings were made, and as Tanner put it: ” . . . the kent note given in monotone and slowly or infrequently is the ordinary call note. When the bird is disturbed, the pitch of the kent rises, and it is repeated more rapidly frequently doubled, kent-kent, with the second note lower. (p. 62, emphasis added.)
Rob Tymstra, an accomplished Canadian birder and IBWO searcher, visited the search area a couple of weeks later, and on April 5, he reported the following from a location a few miles south of Matt’s capture:
“. . .at 11:55 am yesterday, I heard one clear kent-like note about 50-100 yards north of the bridge. I noted the pitch of the sound (using my ukulele) and compared it later to the soundclip Mark sent me a few days ago. The quality of the sound is similar but the pitch of my sound was about a whole note higher than yours. I didn’t hear or see anything unusual after that. I can’t say that it sounded like an ivorybill but it’s certainly a sound I’d never heard before (and I know most of the birdsongs).”
A whole note higher would likely place the fundamental frequency at the low end of Cornell’s range.
I’m personally convinced these calls and the calls recorded last year came from Ivory-billed Woodpeckers. It’s also my view that the recordings Matt and Phil have made are among the strongest evidence for the ivorybill’s persistence obtained to date.
I’m more puzzled by the difference between last year, when birds were calling very actively on at least one day, and it appeared that the sounds had at least two and possibly as many as four sources, and this year when calls have been so few and far between. I can’t help but wonder whether the difference might be due to nesting success last year and failure this year. Pure speculation on my part, but perhaps we’re getting close to resolving some of the mysteries.
If the sounds Matt captured last month were Ivory-billed Woodpecker calls, it seems likely that he was in the vicinity of a roost; however, Matt returned on the morning of March 21 and did not hear anything. (There was lots of avian and woodpecker activity.) No suggestive sounds were apparent on my review of that morning’s recording, so if there is a roost in the area, it seems unlikely that it was used on the night of the 20th. Whatever the case, the location is very short walk from the road, and I plan to devote several mornings and evenings to sitting in the area with recording device running and camera at the ready.
Edited to add: When Matt and I first discussed the call, I remembered that Don Eckelberry’s account and his description of the Singer Tract ivorybill calling around sunset. I’m grateful to Houston, of IBWO.net who was reminded of it too and sent me Eckelberry’s exact words:
. . . At 7:20, after I had finished all my notes and we were about to leave, she popped out and raced up the trunk to its broken top where, bathed in rich orange light of the setting sun, she alternately preened and jerked her head about in a peculiar angular way, quite unlike the motions of any other woodpecker I knew. I was tremendously impressed by the majestic and wild personality of this bird, its vigor, its almost frantic aliveness. She flew off after five minutes and in another five returned, calling once and going in to roost at 7:30 on the dot. By the time we regained the road it was quite dark.
March Recordings Revisited: A Compilation of the Calls for Easier Listening, Interesting Knocks, and Some Additional AnalysisPosted: December 10, 2017
If you’re interested in possible double knocks, I’ve made what may be some important new finds, so be sure to read the whole post and listen to the clips at the end.
In the meantime, I think this post will be of interest to many readers – from the new ones who’ve found the blog either because of the recent sighting or after reading about Project Coyote on the LABird list (thanks to Jay Huner for the mention) to other ivorybill searchers and aficionados to those who have had trouble hearing the putative ivorybill calls on the March recordings or didn’t want to wade through all the audio.
In the easy listening department, Steve Pagans has made a compilation of the clearest calls on Matt Courtman’s first, 2 hour clip recorded on the morning of March 15 using NCH software.
I tweaked Steve’s version a bit, amplifying it and applying noise reduction using Audacity, an equivalent program. Sonograms were generated using Sonic Visualizer, to my knowledge the best free program of its kind.
Both Steve’s version and mine (immediately below Steve’s) should make it considerably easier to hear many of the calls recorded that morning. Steve’s is somewhat cleaner, and mine is somewhat louder.
Steve’s extracts from Matt’s first clip:
With additional amplification:
Steve has done similar, shorter condensations of the the other two recordings Matt made. (The extract from the second clip adds little, so I’ve opted not to post it.)
Steve’s extract from Matt’s third clip:
With additional amplification:
The calls have a very consistent sonogram pattern (the stacks of three or more parallel horizontal lines), with an emphasis on the second partial (third horizontal line from the bottom). There are apparent tree squeaks in both clips that have a similar quality; the dominant frequency is similar, but the tree squeaks show more energy at that frequency. The second screen cap is a detail of the first, showing both calls and tree squeaks. The latter show a brighter orange, indicating more energy at a similar frequency to the calls’ dominant partial. The sounds are definitely different, but they can be hard to distinguish at the margins.
Steve’s effort, which took many hours, inspired me to revisit the recordings and specifically to reexamine possible responses to Matt’s anthropogenic double knocks and Phil’s playbacks over the course of the more than three hours when Matt’s recorder was running. I had concluded that the ADKs did not seem to have had an impact, but on careful re-listening, I’ve amended that view. Matt’s knocks do seem to have stirred up calls in reaction and to have generated several possible single or double knocks.
Listening through the recordings and especially to the ADKs and their immediate aftermath was a time-consuming and difficult process, especially because the knocks are very loud and tightly spaced. Matt used two wooden blocks (rather than dowels and a tree trunk or a knock box) and did not follow a specific protocol. Overall, his approach was more aggressive than Frank’s or mine, both in terms of volume and number of knocks, and a somewhat more restrained approach is probably advisable in the future. Nevertheless, if you assume (as I do) that ivorybills were present on this morning, these recordings may provide some insights into the efficacy (or lack thereof) of ADKs in generating responses.
This return visit to the recordings also supported my view that the putative ivorybill calls (recorded in the old search area) that Phil played back generated no reaction at all from the suspected ivorybills on the morning of the 15th. Blue Jays, however, appeared to respond, and I now tend to think those calls (though not all of those recorded in the old area) were Blue Jay, based on the apparent Blue Jay responses and on the harmonics. In retrospect, it’s unfortunate (but totally understandable under the circumstances) that playback of the Singer Tract recordings and other possible attraction methods weren’t tried. Perhaps another opportunity will present itself, although the events of March 15 were singular . . . thus far.
In the first of these two clips, the playback seems to have provoked Blue Jays to call faintly. In the second, in which the Blue Jay calls are easier to hear, they had been calling before the playback began.
By my count, Matt did 7 sets of ADKS and performed approximately 205 knocks in all. I noted six possible double or single knock responses (of varying quality) in four of the six series. These knocks occurred within seconds of ADKs. The temporal proximity between the ADKs and the possible DKs and SK in response make it less likely that Matt and Phil (to a lesser extent) would have noted them in the field.
I’m posting the relevant extracts below in unmodified form followed by clips with the interesting knocks amplified using Audacity. They should be audible through a desktop computer, but headphones will help. To repeat a strong caveat: Matt’s ADKs are very loud (which made this analysis especially difficult). I should also reiterate that I don’t consider myself particularly skilled at analyzing recorded knocks; I don’t have the greatest ear for intervals and have no direct field experience with Campephilus woodpeckers; my ability to interpret sonograms is also limited. Nevertheless, I’m sure these sounds are neither shots nor industrial noise (or duck wingbeats). With one exception (the fifth knock, which sounds like a single to me), I’m also confident that Matt was not the source of the sounds. Some of inadvertent bumping together of his blocks should be audible at various points, and it has a different quality.
The first set of ADKs was the shortest, involving only six, and these were very closely spaced. The first ADK in the series produced a possible DK in response. Matt began the series 15 minutes and 52 seconds into the recording, and there had been a kent call at 14:59. Both a possible DK and a kent call can be heard between the first and second knocks. An additional kent can be heard after the third knock (omitted here).
I did not find any possible double knocks in the second and third series, and there were only a few kent calls – one during the second and three during the third. There was a possible double knock in the fourth series, at 1:48.22, two seconds after an ADK.
During the 5th set, on the second clip, I found a possible single knock at 3:16. (Steve Pagans, who has an excellent ear, thinks it’s a closely spaced double.) I can’t rule Matt out completely as the source of this sound, but I think that’s a remote possibility.
Edited to Add: Playing the clip at a slower speed, reveals that there are two distinct knocks, the first louder, and leaves me convinced that Matt was not the source of this sound.
Also on the second clip in the 6th set, there’s a possible double knock at 30:26, approximately 2 seconds after an ADK.
On the final recording, during the 7th and final set, there’s possible DK after the 5th ADK in the series. It was preceded by a possible ambient DK about 50 seconds before Matt began the ADKs. The ambient knock is slightly buried behind some rustling, approximately three seconds into the recordings. To my ears, the DK in response sounds as though the first knock is softer than the second, something that’s uncommon but not unheard of for Campephilus woodpeckers. I’ve included both the entire relevant sequence and extracts in which I’ve amplified the knocks.
Unmodified clip with ambient DK and later DK in response to Matt’s 5th in a series of ADKs:
Ambient DK Amplified:
Amplified DK in response to ADK:
Finally, in listening to parts of Matt’s first clip again, I noted that there are a number of very distant kents. These are barely audible at normal volume and only faintly so on the amplified version. This suggests a highly mobile source (or sources) for the calls. It also suggests that there may be more calls on the recordings than the approximately 200 hundred I originally estimated. Steve noticed these calls too but elected not to include them in his compilation because the amount of amplification necessary degrades the sound quality. Thus, it may be difficult for some readers to hear these more distant calls.
The first few seconds of the extract below are unamplified to give a sense of the volume of other ambient sounds at the time. The kent calls come toward the end, and with one partial harmonic showing up faintly on the sonogram (the lighter colored dot near the left margin in the image below).
Amplified Distant Kents:
I owe readers the final installment of the “Bits and Pieces” series (hotlink is to the most recent installment). I anticipate that it will be my final post for this eventful year. Look for it just before Christmas.
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”.
Edited to add: Hasbrouck (1891) included a second-hand claim of a nest in pine from northwest Alabama. Tanner accepted the report but possibly not the claim of a nest, as the latter is not mentioned in the monograph.
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 verifiable 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.
Someone recently proposed Red-breasted Nuthatch as the source of the March calls and pointed me to this clip.
It’s worth listening to the recording in tandem with some of our putative ivorybill calls. The pitches do sound close.
The habitat isn’t really right for Red-breasted Nuthatch. I’ve never encountered any in the search area, even during irruptions, and the area from which the calls were coming has no conifers. The two calls I heard did not sound like nuthatches to me, and Matt Courtman, who knows the species well, categorically rules out nuthatch of any kind. Nevertheless, I took the opportunity to revisit the sonograms and listen to a whole lot of nuthatch calls.
There’s definitely a similarity, but I’d describe the Red-breasted Nuthatch calls as being buzzier in quality. The harmonics are dramatically different, which accounts for the difference in sound.
For those unfamiliar with sonograms, the X axis is time (in seconds) and the Y axis is frequency.
Red-breasted Nuthatch toots consistently have a fundamental frequency of around 1000 hz; most of our recorded calls have a fundamental that’s closer to 500-600. The strongest emphasis in our calls is on the third partial, usually between 1600-1900 hz. Most of the emphasis in the RBNU calls is on the fourth and fifth partials, in the 2500-3500 hz range; these partials, when visible, are much weaker in our putative ivorybill recordings.
Finally, for reference, it’s worth checking out the White-breasted Nuthatch, both the call and the sonogram. As discussed in a previous post, White-breasted Nuthatches are present in the area, and a number of their faint calls are captured on the recording.
In an earlier post, I mentioned that Tanner suggested that ivorybill calls were more like Red-breasted Nuthatches, while Hasbrouck described them as being “exactly like the note of the White-breasted Nuthatch”. I’m still on a learning curve when it comes to bioacoustics, but the harmonic structure of White-breasted call seems closer to known ivorybill calls than is the call of the Red-breasted.
The difference in tonal quality that was apparent to my ears is explained very succinctly on the Earbirding blog:
All nasal sounds are stacks of partials, but not all stacks of partials sound nasal. The tone quality of a complex sound depends on which partials are loudest—that is, darkest on the spectrogram.
The higher the darkest line in a stack, the more nasal the sound.
Known ivorybill calls have a strong 3rd partial and are on the less nasal side of the nasal spectrum; the strength of the 3rd partial became more apparent when the Singer Tract calls were played back and recorded at a distance of 145 meters. Red-breasted Nuthatch calls with their strong 4th and 5th partials are considerably more nasal. The White-breasted falls in between, with strong 3rd and 4th partials.
Tanner wrote that the calls of the ivorybill are “much longer and pitched higher than the White-breasted Nuthatch” and “are more in the range of the Red-breasted Nuthatch”. To reiterate a point made previously, this suggests that typical “kents” were of considerably longer duration than the calls on the Singer Tract recordings, as is the case with the calls Phil and Matt recorded in March. This is important to note, since Cornell, following the Singer Tract recordings, has assumed a duration of 60-100 milliseconds for ivorybill kents, whereas kent-like Red-breasted Nuthatch calls are much longer, often upwards of 300 ms, and White-breasteds seem to be in the 100-200 ms range. One outside reviewer provided durations for eight of the calls we recorded, and they vary considerably, from ~80 ms to ~350 ms.
Whatever these mystery sounds may have been, I’m sure they’re not Red-breasted Nuthatch. They’re not White-breasted Nuthatch either. Nor are they a good match for Blue Jay or Turkey. Carefully considered, serious suggestions are welcome.
On March 15, Phil Vanbergen and Matt Courtman recorded numerous kent-like calls at the same location where we heard several calls on March 11 and 12. Phil was able to record two of the March 11 calls. That capture is included in the post, along with Phil’s audio from the morning of the 15th. I heard two of the calls on the 11th; the second one in particular struck me as being consistent with the Singer Tract recordings; the first seemed a little low pitched to my ears, an observation that’s captured on the recording. Steve Pagans and I heard several calls on the 12th, but these were not recorded.
Matt obtained nearly three hours of audio, and to my ears the sounds are coming from 2-4 distinct sources; I had the same impression after listening to some of Phil’s clips. I have now listened all the way through Matt’s recordings several times and will share my analysis below. Matt and Phil are likely to weigh in later with their perspectives. I also have a couple of trip reports pending, so there should be a lot of activity on the blog in coming weeks.
To start with, I counted over 200 kent-like calls in all.
On the long clips posted here, I’ve edited out all of Matt’s ADK (anthropogenic double knock) series, which he did on the half hour. The knocks are very loud, as can be heard from the one trailing sound I’ve left in. I also snipped out several minutes of conversation between Phil and Matt. The ADKs seem to have led to more frequent calling and may have provoked some double knocks, something we may address in a future post.
Edited to add: On further review, there does not appear be a correlation between ADKs and more frequent calling. Clips like the one posted below can be deceptive. One kent-like call that overlaps with a knock has been deleted. There is also one possible knock in response. Caution, ADKs have not been completely spliced out, and they are loud. See bottom of page for brief clip and sonogram.*
Between 6:12 and 6:25 on the last long recording made that morning, there are five calls of differing durations and volumes, followed by what may be a double knock. Similarly, at the end of the full clip, starting at 14:14, 3 calls are bracketed by some potentially interesting knocks, 2 before and 1 or 2 after.
The first four clips below are shorter, amplified extracts on which the calls can be heard easily.
The first two of these are extracted from the final segment described above and include the interesting, tooting sounds and possible knocks.
The third clip includes multiple calls over 2 minutes and nine seconds, along with a wide variety of other sounds.
The fourth is four minutes long (pardon the airplane noise) and should provide additional context while also revealing some of the variations among the calls.
For those, like me, who don’t have professional sonogram software, I recommend using Sonic Visualizer – an easy to use, free program that enables you to watch the sonogram as you listen.
And for those who are unfamiliar with avian bioacoustics, this is a great place to start. I’m on a very steep learning curve myself and am prepared to stand corrected about any misstatements in this post.
Many of the sounds are audible on built-in computer speakers, but playback through headphones, earbuds, or external speakers is highly recommended.
I think these calls were likely made by Ivory-billed Woodpeckers. My perspective is based in part on the fact that I have spent all or part of nearly 40 days in close proximity to where the calls were recorded, starting in 2014. A considerable amount of this time was spent sitting quietly, and the total person hours spent in the area is well into the hundreds. We have had occasional kent-like calls, possible double knocks, and possible sightings over the years, but nothing approaching what transpired on the 15th.
Matt spent the morning of the 16th in the same location and did not hear any of the sounds, and Patricia and I spent 4 mornings and one afternoon there between the 23rd and 31st and heard no similar calls. I think this militates strongly against the idea that the source of the sounds is a common resident of the area.
Three alternative hypotheses have been suggested.
On the morning of the 15th, Phil proposed that the sounds might be tree squeaks. There appear to be multiple tree squeaks on the recording, some with similar pitches, but they bear little resemblance to the kent-like calls on the sonogram or to the ear. In addition, the calls sometimes come singly, sometimes in groups, and they vary in pitch, volume, and duration and seem to occur independent of wind velocity (on the 11th we noted that there was no wind.)
The first sound, at just after 4 seconds on the second clip, seems ambiguous. The sonogram is somewhat similar to the kent-like sounds, but the duration is very short, and it has a creaky quality. It’s also associated with the two creaky sounds that follow. These can be heard frequently over the course of the morning, and their appearance on the sonogram is nearly uniform.
One reviewer proposed Wild Turkey and Blue Jay as possible sources. I think turkey can be ruled out due to the absence of other turkey-like sounds associated with these very persistent calls.
Blue Jay strikes me as a more plausible alternative. Blue Jays can be heard at numerous times on Matt’s recordings. And Blue Jays are known to make kent-like calls, some of them very similar to known Ivory-billed Woodpecker sounds. This is likely not mimicry, since the most similar recorded calls I know of were obtained in upstate New York. The recordist noted the similarity. On the sonogram, the resemblance between these calls and either known Ivory-billed Woodpecker sounds or Matt’s recording is not as strong as it might seem to the ear. While they share a strong third partial, the Blue Jay fundamental is higher and some of the higher partials are considerably stronger.
It’s also important to note that on the Cornell Blue Jay recording, the kent-like calls are intermixed with typical Blue Jay vocalizations. Over the three hours of Matt’s recording, kent-like calls occur during periods when Blue Jays are vocalizing and during periods when Blue Jays are silent.
Some of the kent-like calls have harmonics consistent with Cornell’s recorded playbacks of Singer Tract calls at 145 meters. Many are lower in pitch. Most have a considerably longer duration, although to my untrained eye/ear, some seem close to the 80-100 ms duration on the Cornell recording. More on duration below.
On March 28, I did some playback of Singer Tract calls using an iPhone and a bluetooth speaker. Patricia recorded them on a Roland Edirol R09HR digital recorder. I’m including the recording and the sonogram for comparison. Like Matt’s recordings, the second partial is strong throughout, and the 1st, 3rd, and 4th appear to be weaker than for the Blue Jay shown above.
At various points, Phil also experimented with doing playback, using calls recorded in 2010 at the old Project Coyote site. (He also played back several other species – Red-bellied, Golden-fronted, and, possibly, Gila Woodpecker to gauge Red-bellied response, and Eastern Towhee out of personal interest.) Examples of putative ivorybill playbacks can be heard over the first 3 minutes of the fourth long clip posted above and also during the first part of the fifth. These sounds are longer but similar in tonal quality to the lower pitched calls. Their harmonic structure is different, however, with a fundamental at around 800 hz, a second partial at around 1600, and a fairly strong higher partial at approximately 5000 hz., and should be readily identifiable on the sonogram.
Phil’s playbacks do not seem to have provoked any kent-like replies. Blue Jays can be heard during the same time frame, but it’s not immediately apparent whether the recorded Blue Jay calls are responses or merely contemporaneous vocalizations. This segment includes some Blue Jay vocalizations.
With regard to Blue Jays and the numerous kent like calls heard from March 11, 12, and 15: to reiterate, many hours have been spent in this vicinity, with close attention being paid to kent-like sounds. These are heard infrequently and never before in such quantity or over such an extended period. If Blue Jays in the area were making these sounds, we almost certainly would have heard and recorded many of them over the years. In addition, both Steve Pagans and Matt Courtman are experienced and skilled ear birders and neither thinks these are Blue Jay calls.
It’s also worth pointing out that another potential confusion call can be heard on the recordings – White-breasted Nuthatch. The sound is similar but much weaker, as should be clear from the amplified March 15 excerpt. On the sonogram, just below the amplified recording, the calls show up very faintly, with dominant frequencies of around 2200-2400 hz and a relatively strong partial at 1700-1800.
I encourage people to listen through and draw their own conclusions. Input from those with expertise is welcome.
While I can’t say if any of these calls are a perfect match for the Allen and Kellogg recordings (some may be), many of them are close on the sonogram and similar to the ear. It’s important to bear in mind that the Singer Tract birds were likely agitated when those recordings were made, even though Tanner described some them as being good examples of kents. It’s also important to read Tanner’s descriptions carefully, though as is so often the case, his writing can be opaque. Perhaps his most important observation was that “all of the notes have the same nasal, trumpet-like quality.”
According to Tanner, “The notes of the nuthatches are the only bird calls I know that sound like the voice of an ivorybill; the Ivory-bill’s calls are much longer and pitched higher than the calls of a White-breasted Nuthatch, are more in the range of a Red-breasted Nuthatch.” (Emphasis added.) By contrast, Hasbrouck, writing in the 1890’s, described it as being “exactly like the note of the White-breasted Nuthatch” only much louder and stronger.
Tanner’s reference to Red-breasted Nuthatches has always confused me. I’m very much in Hasbrouck’s camp; I think the Singer Tract kents sound far more akin to White-breasted than Red-breasted Nuthatch. Either way, most of the Allen and Kellogg kents are lower pitched than typical White-breasted Nuthatch calls, as are the ones on Matt’s recording. In addition, the Allen and Kellogg kents seem to be of similar in duration to typical nuthatch calls, rather than longer or “much longer”. This too suggests that they are not typical but are more rapid and perhaps higher pitched due to agitation. Tanner wrote further, “[t]he kent note, given in monotone or infrequently, is the ordinary call note. When the bird is disturbed, the pitch of the kent rises, and it is repeated more rapidly, frequently doubled, kent-kent, with the second note lower. The prolonged and slurring, kient-kient-kient call I always heard when two or more birds were together.” This call was never recorded.
According to Allen and Kellogg, “kenting varied a great deal” and a male bird called “loudly and deliberately”, again suggesting that many calls were of longer duration than those on the recording. Tanner’s notes also point to this variability. At one point, he wrote of “1 and 2 syllable yaps”; he has the Mack’s Bayou bird (whose voice he claimed he could recognize) making a “kient-kient” and also transliterated calls with “keent keent” and “yeenh yeenh” (Bales). These renderings all suggest a more drawn out call than those on the Allen and Kellogg recordings. George Miksch Sutton described the Singer Tract birds’ calls as, “strange, bleat like, not quite sharp enough for a woodpecker’s cry. It was slightly nasal in quality and it sounded to me like ‘Gip!’, with a hard g“. Sutton’s description also suggests that many kents had a fairly long duration.
Edited to add: similarly, several observers (Audubon, Beyer, Hoyt) described ivorybill calls as “plaintive”; this too seems to imply calls of longer duration than what’s heard on the Singer Tract recordings.
Given the resemblance to the Singer Tract recordings and the lack of plausible alternatives, I posit that these calls are at worst highly suggestive of Ivory-billed Woodpecker.
*Possible knock and kent-like calls temporally associated with ADK series. Caution remnant ADKs are loud.
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.
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.
Day 2 – October 10, 2015
We have only visited the southeastern quadrant of our “northern sector” four times. This is mainly due to the amount of time it takes to cross about a mile and-a-half of the uplands surrounding the bottom. Bob and I decided we would try a longer, but possibly quicker and easier, approach by following a fire lane that is maintained a couple of times a year. It was a pleasant, if boring, hike of about a mile and three quarters, a little further, but much easier going to get to the edge of the bottom.
The forest on this side of the stream is of a somewhat different composition than that on the other side. As well as the sweetgums, loblolly pine, and various Quercus sp. an appreciable percentage of the trees are mature 3′ DBH or more beeches.
We made our way to the main channel with relative ease – this quadrant of the forest seems not to have as many deeply incised sloughs and secondary channels, so the temptation to just keep moving slowly is irresistible. After reaching the main stream, we began to do half-circle transects, looking for anything interesting. We finally took a break about mid-morning, and I performed an ADK series and shortly thereafter a series of playbacks. We then sat quietly for about thirty minutes.
We were separated by about 15 yards, and Bob was sitting at the bottom of a large tree facing away from me. Before we continued on our way, we compared notes, and we had both heard two double knocks, and possibly one kent call. Kent calls, what are and what aren’t, have been debated ad nauseum for years. Suffice it to say that this one, though further away and not as loud, stood out from the Jays that were making a ruckus all around us. All we could say for sure is this one was “different” in a way that’s hard to describe.
We continued on, finding our way back to the bank of the main channel every so often. The stream is dryer than I’ve ever seen it.
At one point, I came upon a series of curves, which being a bit deeper, allowed the water to pond. It was not running and none too fresh, but it was water. I noticed these two turtles on a log, probably a slider of some kind and a cooter. They seemed to be annoyed at one another.
We continued easing through the forest, moving slowly and stopping to listen and look occasionally. I photographed Bob standing next to a large swamp chestnut oak.
We found a bit of intriguing scaling here and there, but no large concentrations. This dying sweetgum snag is a good example. (Note the large insect at the upper right. We have not been able to identify it.)
At about one o’clock, we’d just kept walking through “lunch hour”, we decided to take a break. While we were snacking and rehydrating, I performed another series of ADKs followed by playbacks. After about an hour, Bob and I once again compared notes, and once again we had heard a pair of kents, and a single DK. I have to note that nothing we heard appeared to be a direct response to the recorded kents of the anthropogenic double knocks. While I was sitting there, I made this picture of a Red-headed Woodpecker.
We finally came to a corner with an adjoining piece of private property. As the property line was on a direct bearing for the truck, and was “only” a mile through unexplored terrain, we decided to take a chance even though terrain sometimes imposes obstacles. Fortunately for us (we had covered about six total miles previously) the terrain wasn’t bad at all, and other than a couple of hills to climb, the walk was pretty easy. On the way home, we stopped and picked up dinner at a local BBQ joint that has become something of a Project Coyote tradition.
Day 3 – October 11, 2014
On the way to the search area this morning, Bob and I, feeling a bit peckish, decided to stop at one of the convenience stores on the way. We were a bit mystified to find this sign in the window:
Being a proud son of Louisiana, I’m well aware of our love of foods that are considered a bit, ummm unconventional, but even I was a bit taken aback at the prospect of frying chicks…
We arrived at our entry point about ten minutes after first light and headed into the forest. This particular area Mark has discussed a number of times – a couple of hundred yards from the parking area one encounters a tornado blow-down track that is approximately 400 yards wide. This area is unbelievably difficult to traverse – large boled trees scattered like a giant’s game of pick up sticks, thick, almost impenetrable thickets of new growth, blackberry vines and saw briars, as well as the usual random sloughs, and cutoff stream channels.
It took us nearly an hour to make the half-mile to the location of the snag where photos, discussed in previous posts by Mark, were taken. My express purpose was to place one of our new Plotwatcher Pro cameras in this location. New growth of limbs and underbrush made this deployment a bit more complex than the last time. Bob trimmed intervening vegetation while I programmed, set up and started the camera.
After all this work, I used the camera’s Aimcheck function to make sure that the cam was placed optimally. We then proceeded to follow the bank of the main channel downstream. It should be noted that the stream is not running. In all my years of coming to this area, as a hunter, and searching for ivorybills, I have never seen it this dry.
We came to a familiar ponded slough where Mark and I have often stopped and rested for a few minutes. One of the larger trees, a 3.5 ft. DBH water oak had blown down since the last time Mark and I had visited the area in April. The tree still had leaves on it, though they were dry and brown, and the bole and upper branches had no sign of woodpecker workings. I believe that this tree was blown down on or around July 4th as that was the last time severe weather passed through the area. As they are very light and easy to carry, I had an extra Plotwatcher Pro cam with me. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I deployed the camera with a good view of the bole and top – hopefully this tree will attract insects, and soon thereafter woodpeckers feeding on them.
Bob and I continued upstream for another half mile, located a nice spot with a good view, and I performed an ADK series, followed about ten minutes later by a series of electronic playbacks of Singer Tract ivorybill calls. Shortly thereafter, Bob heard a double rap drum, that was captured on my digital recorder. I personally don’t believe that the drum was a direct response to my ADKs as there was at least a fifteen minute interval after the last of the ADK/playback series.
The double rap is not “perfect” in that the “intra-knock interval” is about .05 seconds longer than the “ideal” – based on averages of the intervals of other Campephilus drums – but it sounds very good.
As we were leaving, I determined to blaze a better trail through the blowdown area. Following a straight bearing on my GPS, I used a hatchet and snips to carve a path through the heavier ground cover. Perhaps crossing will be a bit easier next time.
On the way out of the forest Bob and I were treated to one last encounter. We came across this Buttermilk Racer sunning itself on the road. While not endangered, this snake is uncommon and seldom seen. After taking a few photos of him, I tapped his tail with my foot, encouraging him to seek a safer place out of the roadway.
I really enjoyed Bob Ford’s visit – he is a skilled woodsman and birder, and his insights as a professional wildlife scientist are greatly appreciated. I am looking forward to Mark’s next trip – hopefully over the Thanksgiving holiday.
Also, Mark and I would like to thank The Rapides Wildlife Association, and another donor “MC”, for their much appreciated and unsolicited assistance in purchasing our new trail cams, memory cards, and batteries.
A note from Mark: Frank captured some of the possible kent calls on his recorder. They are faint, and it may not be possible to tease any detail out of them. He may do a follow-up post if anything of interest can be gleaned.
Since summer is here, and things are slow, I’ve reconsidered my decision not to post audio obtained in the course of our searches (although I’m not sure I’ll repost old audio from the original search area.) We did not record anything of note during 2013-2014, although we did have a number of auditory encounters. It’s not feasible to keep a recorder running at all times, so when interesting ambient sounds occur, it’s only possible to capture them when they go on for an extended period. In these situations, it’s a judgment call as to whether to approach the source of the sounds, try to record them, or a mix of the two.
These recordings were made on March 2, 2013, and I have included my notes to provide details and context (location redacted.) On the morning clip, the calls can be heard at approximately 0:03, 0:17, 2:04, 3:36, and 3:47 (two calls in very close succession with the interval almost indiscernible to the ear but evident in the sonogram). On the afternoon clip, the only call captured is at approximately 0:52. On the morning clip, there are toots on a clarinet mouthpiece at approximately 0:25 and 1:30, so beware if you’re listening on headphones. The first clip can be played directly from this page. Click on the link to play the second in its own window. I can only hear the call on the second clip with headphones.
Although the duration of the calls appears to be consistent with the Singer Tract recordings, the base frequency is considerably higher, approximately 920 hz.
John Henry and I were ***** on Saturday March 2, 2013. Conditions were mostly cloudy and cold.* Winds were strong (gusts probably around 20 MPH and not many birds were calling). The morning had been active, but as winds picked up, birds went quiet. At approximately 10:15 am, several crows were calling loudly, but I heard 2 intriguing calls behind the crows. I asked John to stop and be quiet. The calls continued, sporadically, for the next 30-45 minutes. I was able to record some of them. We both estimate the distance at around 200 yards and agree that two birds were involved. We both agreed that the calls were mobile and over the course of the sequence, they came from at least three directions. We tried to follow the calls but did not see anything.
Most calls were singles, but in a couple of instances, a first call was followed by a second one within a couple of seconds. The pitch of the second call seemed lower. The duration of the calls seemed to be short. They lacked the intensity of the Singer Tract recordings, but were clearly not Blue Jays, nuthatches, or tree squeaks.
I blew on a clarinet mouthpiece. The calls continued, but neither of us had the impression that there was a response.
At the end of the sequence, John heard two additional calls that I missed, and we found large bark chips at the base of a tree that was in the vicinity from which he had heard the calls. We had walked through this exact location before the calls began and had not noticed the chips (which I normally would have done.)
Between us, we heard a minimum of 18 Ivory-billed Woodpecker-like calls in the morning.
We left the area and returned late in the afternoon. At approximately 5 pm, we were at the spot where we found the bark chips. At this time we heard approximately a dozen more of the same calls and were able to record a couple. The first call I heard seemed a little off, as the note seemed to be doubled, one in immediate succession after the other.** This only happened with the first one. The others were virtually identical to those heard earlier in the day. A white-breasted nuthatch called during this sequence, and there was no possibility of confusion.
*The two nearest weather stations reported lows of 27 and 30 and highs of 47 and 49 respectively. Temperatures in the search area were likely slightly lower. When the morning calls were recorded, temperatures were in the mid-30s.
**This was what I wrote at the end of the day, without consulting any literature. Of course doubled calls are described by Tanner and occur on the Singer Tract recordings.
We are not claiming these as Ivory-billed Woodpecker calls, but several ornithologists have been unable to identify them. The sound and base frequencies are consistent with calls recorded in the old Project Coyote search area.