Bayou de View - Is this the day?
Strong note to self - Get the Bird!
Surely this is the day the Ivory-billed Woodpecker (IBWO) will reveal himself.
This
is the first search day for the newest group of volunteers and everyone
will be in the field. Beth has assigned me a platform watch station on
Stab Lake. (There are several so-called lakes along the Bayou de View
but they are basically just wide sections of the bayou.)
Terry
Doyle (one of the volunteers) and I will paddle south to the
platform. Terry will drop me off and continue a slow paddle to a
search area, and then back to the platform on which I will be standing
watch.
Several hundred meters south of the Highway 17 bridge the main channel of the Bayou de View narrows substantially. I don't think Harry was about to swat his friend for not paddling hard enough.
After paddling for about an hour we reached the first observation blind. The ice was over an inch think in the area of our first approach. We had to paddle to the backside of the blind to find thin ice. Terry dropped me off and continued to paddle deeper into the Bayou de View. The photo above shows the view from the blind. Five hours of observation yielded five species of woodpeckers, just not the one we wanted. Maybe I should have stayed one more hour?
Terry
returned about 2:00 p.m. and we switched places. He took over the
platform watch and I took the canoe and headed back up Bayou de View. I
had to leave early to make an interview later that evening. The plan
was for Beth to meet me at the Highway 17 bridge. She would then have a
chance to search for the ivory-bill herself as she canoed back down to
pick up Terry. Beth is a very nice person.
Just past this location, and about 30 minutes after I left the platform, the plot began to thicken.
A
double knock, just behind me and very close! Strong and powerful! This
could be it! (Ivory-billed Woodpeckers rap twice on wood as
long-distance communication signals, with the first strike usually
louder than the second: “BAM bam!”)
The immediate challenge was
to maneuver the canoe to a stable location. The current was not swift
but was strong enough to quickly move the canoe out of range if I
stopped paddling.
No problems at all at this point. All I had to
do was turn on the video camera and aim it up and behind me, while at
the same time maneuvering the canoe with my other hand, back up about
25 feet and into a stable location not affected by the current. Piece
of cake.
About halfway through my contortions I heard another
powerful double knock, probably less than 200 feet away. And finally a
third powerful double knock, just as I was able to settle the canoe so
it would not float down the river as I searched for the bird. All
right, now I am ready. Camera on, canoe stable, eyes focused closely in
the direction of the sound. Nothing. Wait 10 more minutes.
Nothing. The bayou has gone silent.
Beth is waiting for me at
the Highway 17 bridge so I head back upstream. Within 30 seconds I hear
another double knock, not as strong as the first, but still a double
knock, and it's close! I whirl around and look up, in the
direction of the sound, not far behind me but at about eleven o'clock
high. As I lean back to try to see higher in the trees I realize
that I have gone too far. With no one else in the canoe to add a little
balance, my sudden shift in weight, along with the canoe now being at
an angle to the current, has created an unfortunate situation. The
gunnel of the canoe is rapidly rushing to water level as the canoe tips
to the right. I suddenly find myself looking straight down into the
dark waters of the Bayou de View. My biggest concern is the camera gear
in the boat--all lying out for quick access should the ivory-bill make
an appearance. If the canoe goes over the cameras will be dumped into
the river, probably never to be seen again.
There is only one
thing to do. As the gunnel of the canoe just starts to break the
surface of the water I make the decision that I must exit the canoe.
With cat-like quickness and agility I pop out of the canoe and into the
frigid waters of the Bayou de View. (Did I mention all the ice on the
river?) Fortunately the water was a little less than waist deep
so there was no real danger.
However, just as I was standing up
I heard another double knock, high in the trees and not too far away. I
reached quickly for the canoe, pulled it toward me, and grabbed the
video camera, trying not to get it soaked as the water dripped from my
sleeves. Just before the camera started recording I heard yet
another double knock. I tied the canoe to a tupelo tree and hid
at its base, looking hard for the creature making the double knocks.
Fifteen
frustrating minutes later I had not seen the bird or heard another
sound from the drummer. With the water seemingly getting colder
by the minute I climbed back into the canoe and the final hour or so of
my trip back to the take-out point.
Were the double knocks
made by an Ivory-billed Woodpecker? I will, of course, never know but
suspect they were not. In each case the first knock was stronger than
the second, a good sign. However, the second set of double knocks was
much sharper sounding and not nearly as loud as the first three,
suggesting the almost booming resonance of the first set of double
knocks was a result of the substrate, not the size and power of the
woodpecker.
Also, while the double knocks were very close
together they were not as closely spaced as recordings of double knocks
made by other Campephilus species, woodpeckers in the same
genus as the ivory-bill. There are no known recordings of
ivory-bill double knocks (not yet, at least) so no one knows for sure
just how fast the double knocks of an ivory-bill might be.
Experience some of the sights and sounds of the Bayou de View. The video is jerky in places. All of it was shot handheld, often from a canoe and at high magnification. The Wood Ducks shown swimming rapidly downstream were recorded from a blind dubbed North Stab Platform / Home of the river otters. River otters, beavers, nutria and mink can be found in the area. Although still some distance away, the roar of traffic on Interstate Highway I-40 can be heard in the background.
The final thirty seconds or so of the video was taped a couple of days later. I had hiked from the Highway 17 bridge south along the edge of the swamp, in a distance of about 400 yards. Immediately behind me was a 10-15 ft. embankment leading up to a farm field. In front was the Bayou de View. It was late in the day, a time called the "magic hour" by the ivory-bill seekers, as it is the time of day birds are returning to their roosts for the evening. I did not expect to see an ivory-bill but hoped (in vain) I might hear another double knock or kent call.
The hour or so I sat on the edge of the swamp was not a loss. Sitting quietly on the bank of the Bayou de View in full camo gear I became part of the environment. Wood Ducks swam by on several occasions and could often be heard calling. White-breasted Nuthatches and Tufted Titmice were the most active this late in the day and in the distance Great-Horned and Barred Owls were calling repeatedly. Pileated Woodpeckers called twice. Overhead Red-winged Blackbirds and small flocks of geese were almost constant companions. It's impossible not to be touched by the enchanted kingdom of the Ivory-billed Woodpecker.
An interesting day, to say the least. No ivory-bill but am I getting closer? Tomorrow I'll join the full-time searchers in the White River Refuge. Maybe we'll be able to close the gap and finally get the money shot.
Photos ©Sam Crowe/Cornell Lab of Ornithology unless noted otherwise.
