The Biggest Day

The first annual world series of birding: Richard E. Bonney, Jr. leads the Laboratory of Ornithology team into the fray.

1985 and 1986 team: (L-R, kneeling): Cricket Melin, Charlie Smith, (L-R, standing): Andy Dasinger, Greg Butcher, Rick Bonney (captain)

One morning last March the mail brought a large white envelope emblazoned with an invitation: "The New Jersey Audubon Society challenges the best birders in North America to the most outrageous 24 hours in the history of birding." Curious, I opened it and found a letter from Pete Dunne, director of New Jersey Audubon's Cape May Bird Observatory.

 "Have you heard about the Biggest Day? It's going to be the world series of birding, the first birding competition. New Jersey Audubon is organizing it and I'm leader of the Cape May Guerilla team. We hope to break the old New Jersey record by seeing 200 species. Can you bring a team from the Laboratory of Ornithology?"

 Now I was really curious. According to Pete, the plan was simple: beginning at midnight, May 19, 1984--the height of spring migration in New Jersey--teams of birders would scour the state in an attempt to locate as many bird species as possible. Twenty-four hours later the teams would converge on the lighthouse at Cape May Point, New Jersey to compare totals. The team with the highest total would be declared the winner and would claim the coveted Urner-Stone Cup, named after two eminent New Jersey ornithologist. Because teams from outside New Jersey would be at a disadvantage--they wouldn't be familiar with New Jersey's birding hotspots and would have difficulty doing advance scouting--a separate award would be given for the highest out-of-state total. This was the Ed Stearns Award, named after the man who held the New Jersey Big Day record for more than 30 years.

I finished reading and sat musing. Big Days themselves were not a new concept; birders have been conducting them for years. Report of big days across the country are published each year in Birding, the journal of the American Birding Association. In April 1983 a team of six birders set a new North American record of 235 species in one 24-hour period in California, breaking the previous record of 234 that was set in Texas just the year before. Only one other state had ever broken the 200 mark; a team of two birders saw 202 species in Alabama in April 1983.

But the Cape May Observatory Guerilla team had been creeping closer to the 200 mark each year. On May 16, 1982 they counted 185 species, shattering the record of 171 that had stood since 1973. On May 14, 1983 they broke their own record with a staggering 194. Now in 1984, with two years of big day experience and one of the world's greatest birders, Roger Tory Peterson, on their team, a 200-species day seemed within reach.

It wouldn't be easy. Even at the height of migration only about 260 species can be found throughout all of New Jersey. Any many of these are extremely rare or very secretive. Seeing 200 in 24 hours would require a carefully chosen route, strict adherence to a schedule, advance scouting, good weather, and a large measure of good luck.

And now the Guerillas were inviting teams to compete against them, a new twist on the big day concept. Previous big day teams had competed only against their own records. It sounded like fun, but I had some misgivings. I'm neither a bird lister or a chaser. Would the competitive element ruin the fun of birding?

I looked out the window into an early spring day. It had been a particularly long, cold winter in upstate New York, but finally the tree swallows were returning and I was getting birding fever. I thought about some of New Jersey's great birding spots: Great Swamp National Wildlife Refuge, Brigantine National Wildlife Refuge, Cape May Point. Each alone was worth a trip to New Jersey. All three in one day? It didn't take long to make up my mind. The evening of May 18 found me rolling toward New Jersey leading the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology team.

I had three teammates: Andy Dasinger, a Cornell undergraduate; Cricket Smith, an Ithaca schoolteacher and member of the local bird club, and Ed Neumith, a friend from Washington, Massachusetts. All superb birders, each with complementary strengths.

As we drove we reviewed the rules. Any bird seen or heard counted as long as it was alive and inside the New Jersey state limits. The team had to remain within voice contact at all times except during timeouts when no birds could be counted. We couldn't ask anyone where to find specific birds. Tape-recorded bird calls could not be used to lure birds. And 95 percent of the species counted had to be seen or heard by all team members.

We also plotted our strategy--such as it was. We knew that finding 200 species was impossible for us; our goal was 150. None of us was very familiar with New Jersey. We had a road map, a booklet that described New Jersey's hotspots, and a vague itinerary. We'd begin in the Great Swamp, home of owls and numerous freshwater marshbirds such as rails and bitterns. From there we'd go to the Scherman Wildlife Sanctuary in quest of woodland birds such as warblers and thrushes. Next we hit Princeton's Institute Woods for more warblers and Assunpink Wildlife Management Area for grassland birds. Then we would visit New Jersey's birding crown jewel, Brigantine National Wildlife Refuge, to see herons, egrets, gulls, terns, and shorebirds. Finally, we would head toward Cape May for more seabirds and shorebirds.

Bu 1:30 a.m. we were in the Great Swamp. We had slept for two hours at a friend's house in nearby Millington and left tired but excited. For the next 19 hours we birded nonstop.Particularly memorable moments:

• Traipsing through the Great Swamp in darkness and discovering four other teams. When I hooted a barn owl imitation we wondered how many other teams added the species to their list.
• Finding 18 species of warblers in 30 minutes at the Scherman Sanctuary.
• Getting lost on our way to Princeton's Institute Woods, then thinking we had found them, getting caught in a downpour, then discovering we were in the wrong place.
• Finding Institute Woods and being rewarded by a mourning warbler--a rare bird--throwing back his head and singing while the sun burned away the rain clouds.
• Finding no grassland species at Assunpink.
• Finding eight species of herons and egrets at Brigantine.
• Finding two red-throated loons, two horned grebes, a black scoter, a lesser scaup, two piping plovers and a flock of purple sandpipers at the Cape May breakwater just as it was getting dark.
• Finishing the day with a total of 168 species, far beyond our expectations.

How did our 168 stack up? We came in ninth out of 13 teams. The Guerillas found 201 species and carried off the Urner-Stone Cup. The lowest score was 131. The four teams we beat were all New Jersey teams, but we lost to the only other out-of-state team, Manomet Bird Observatory, which beat us by seven species and returned to Massachusetts with the Stearns Award.

But, as they say in the big leagues, there's always next year. The laid-back approach of 1984 will be replaced by an all-out birding assault. This May we'll bird all 24 hours of the Big Day and follow and carefully prescribed route.

We're losing Ed Neumuth to a new Massachusetts team, but we'll have some new talent, including the Laboratory of Ornithology's assistant director of public education, Steve Sibley, a birder Pete Dunne describes as "awesome."

Our goals? First, to capture the Stearns Award. Second, to give the Guerillas a scare. We probably can't beat them, but we're sure going to try. Watch for 185 species in '85--weather permitting.

 Rick Bonney is associate editor of The Living Bird Quarterly.