The weather forecast for the next 5 days did not look promising. Forecasted winds are light and variable, and no storms are on the horizon. Because of that, I discussed options with the group, and we decided to explore Etienne Bay and then take advantage of calm seas and head out to Stalemate Bank for an extra day of pelagic birding after birding some of the traditional spots around Massacre Bay for one more day. I also put on sunscreen for the first time even though the weather seemed a little different today (clouds were lower, the winds was no longer out of the north, and we had drizzle as we went ashore). After getting sunburned the past few days, I didn’t want to take any chances. As it turned out, we didn’t get any direct sun today. Go figure.

We headed to South Beach by way of Murder Point. The Smew was still absent from the pond near Murder Point. Beyond this, we walked along the shoreline, and Isaac found another Whooper Swan. It was just like the first: dead. This one was decayed more. I didn’t even bother giving this one CPR. A little further along, I was walking along the base of some bluffs and flushed a Brambling, the first Asian passerine of the trip. (Well, the Pine Grosbeak was likely of Asian origin, but no one is going to get excited about that one.) It must have been beat from the flight in because it allowed a close approach after the initial flush and was constantly feeding. (It was still feeding when we refound it on the walk back up the beach a few hours later.)

Brambling (photo by Doug Hitchcox)

There wasn’t much around the South Beach area. The only birds of note was a Rock Ptarmigan far up the hillside above the beach and a fly-by Vega Herring Gull seen by Isaac. On the walk back, several of us spotted a fly-by Slaty-backed Gull.

One of our group, Dr. Carl Sheely, didn’t make the bike/walk to South Beach. He stayed behind and birded around Casco Cove and the runways. When we got back in radio range, he told us he had found a Wood Sandpiper in a pond next to the E-W runway. It posed well for photos.

Wood Sandpiper (photo by Doug Hitchcox)

Everybody got to see the Wood Sandpiper except one person. He was back at the boat. We radioed him and Captain Bill brought him to shore to see the bird, which at this point had disappeared uphill at the west end of the runway. As we were looking for it, Isaac pointed out a male Snowy Owl on the side of Weston Mountain to our south. This is where we had been seeing an owl earlier, but now there were two. Maybe they’ll nest here.

The spot the sandpiper had flown to was just above the last (i.e., most westerly) revetment on the south side of the runway. I had been eyeing this spot as a place to look for passerines, so I circled around the edges on my bike and flushed three birds. Two disappeared over the top of the embankment, but the one that stayed, though only briefly, was an ORIENTAL GREENFINCH. It was just me, Isaac, and one group member here. Everyone else had returned to Lower Base to get a ride back to the boat. I radioed them, and of course, everyone was back on their bikes, headed our way.

When everyone was assembled, we walked to the top of the revetment, where the Greenfinch had flown. On the way, the Wood Sandpiper flushed. We walked about 200 feet when Doug Hitchcox saw the bird zip back down to the side of the revetment. We headed back down but could not see the bird. It then flew again, disappearing over the other side of the revetment, so we went over to the next one to the east. We formed a line and moved to where we thought it might be. No luck, but I flushed another three Brambling. Up to this point, I was thinking that maybe we should delay our trip to Etienne Bay, but now I was sure.

We got back to the spot where the Greenfinch was originally seen, and finally Isaac saw it at the base of the embankment. It feed in this spot for about five minutes, and I was able to get it in the scope.

Oriental Greenfinch (photo by Doug Hitchcox)

Oriental Greenfinch (photo by Doug Hitchcox)

I don’t know why our luck changed today. Sure, it may have been the weather, but I think I’ll put sunscreen on every morning now, just in case.

Attu is famous for its weather: wind, rain, and cold. But somehow when I come here, we get nothing but sun. That might sound like a good thing, but storms bring in the good birds. Sunny weather not so much. We’re all walking around with sunburns and hoping for some rain.

Not too much new today. We looked for the Smew again this morning with no luck. The only arrival has been at least 25 Pacific Golden-Plovers. The Common Snipe was seen again, too.

One bit of housekeeping: we did see 3 Short-tailed Albatrosses a few days ago. Studying the photos, Isaac saw that the first one was not banded while the third was (and the second one was undergoing primary molt while the others were not).

The wind is still out of the north, but things picked up a little today. We started with a good news/bad news situation. First, the good news: we found a Whooper Swan in the little creek next to Lower Base [insert upward slide whistle sound f/x]. Now the bad news: it was dead [insert downward slide whistle sound f/x].

Just before lunch, Doug Hitchcox flushed a Common Snipe from a wet area next to the E-W runway. We called everyone over and as a group walked up to where he had seen it land. It flushed again before we could spot it on the ground, typical of my experience with this species in the Aleutians (well, it’s typical of all snipe everywhere). The white trailing edge of the wings, broader than on a Wilson’s Snipe, was apparent as it flew off. We tried to find it on the ground two more times with similar results, though instead of flying directly away on the last flush, it flew off to our left. A few got to see the underwings, whiter than a Wilson’s underwings.

We then had lunch at this spot. As we were finishing, Jake the bike mechanic, who had just left to return to the boat, started waving at us and pointing from across the runway. Jake forgot he had a radio, but Isaac did not. Isaac radioed to him, asking what was going on. Jake said there was a bird with “red on the head and black and white wings” near him. I thought maybe it was a redpoll, but soon it flew to a spot where we could partially see it. It was too big for a redpoll, and from what we could see, the red was not only on the head but also on the breast. I hurried to get my scope, but while I did that, it flew again. Isaac saw enough to think that it was a Pine Grosbeak.

We formed a line and walked towards the spot it disappeared. It flushed again and few toward the ponds at the end of the runway. When we got there, it popped up on the side of a bank, giving most of us excellent though brief views. It was a Pine Grosbeak, likely of the subspecies found in eastern Russia. Definitely not a bird I was expecting to see here, though there are previous records.

Later in the afternoon, I stopped by the bridge over Kingfisher Creek and did a quick scan of the upstream side. I didn’t find anything, but when I brought my binocular down, a tattler flew upstream. Based on habitat alone — a rocky, fast-flowing stream — I thought it was probably a Wandering Tattler, and that’s what it proved to be when the group refound it.

I thought that the tattler story would be the end of today’s post, but after dinner, I went back on shore to make a few adjustments to some of the bikes. Captain Bill came along, and we went for a short bike ride first. We made it over to near Murder Point. There’s a pond between the road and the point, and I noticed a few ducks: four Greater Scaup (two males and two females), two female Red-breasted Mergansers…and one female Smew. Everyone else was on the boat, so Captain Bill went back and got most everyone. We went back to the pond, and now there were just five ducks: the four scaup and one Red-breasted Merganser. [insert downward slide whistle sound f/x]. We looked at a few other ponds with no luck. Disappointing, yes, but now I know where to start birding tomorrow.

Last night around 5 AM, I woke up to the sound of the engine running at a lower RPM then it had been, and then I heard the anchor drop. We were in Casco Cove. We made it to Attu.

Truth be told, today wasn’t particularly birdy. Around sunrise, there were 3 Vega Herring Gulls with a flock of Glaucous-winged Gulls in Casco Cove. While Jake (our deckhand/bike mechanic) and I were getting the bikes ready, Isaac took the group for a walk and found a Snowy Owl on a hill south of the E-W runway. Later, we flushed two male Eurasian Wigeon on the south shore of Casco Cove. That was about all the excitement there was today, other than the fact that we are on Attu.

A lot of birds today. A lot of whales today. When I woke up, we were between Kiska Island and Buldir Island, heading to Buldir. Many species of seabirds breed on Buldir and we saw many of them today. Buldir hosts one of only several breeding colonies of Red-legged Kittiwakes, and we began to see singles as we approached the island. Thick-billed Murres were seen flying towards the island, and we saw them throughout the day. This is also a good area for sperm whales, and we saw about five to seven before reaching Buldir.

Things got even more interesting after we passed the island. We continued to encounter sperm whales (we saw about 15 or more by the end of the day), and there were occasional pods of Dall’s porpoises. Then we found a tight pod of whales that may have been a species of beaked whale. We have photographs and will be doing some research in the next few days to see if we can identify them. We also crossed paths with a small pod of orcas. There were only about five in this pod, including a very small young one. (We encountered a larger pod last night est of Little Sitkin Island after I wrote yesterday’s blog post. That pod had about 20.)

A short time after that, Carl Sheely, Pat Moynahan, and Marian Zimmerman spotted the first Short-tailed Albatross of the trip, a young bird with a little white starting to appear on the belly and around the eye. It zipped by us on the starboard side and disappeared behind our stern. I ran back and started chumming. At first it attracted only Laysan Albatrosses, then a Black-footed, and eventually the Short-tailed made an appearance. Like other Short-taileds I’ve chummed in, it came back but never approached the boat very closely. While we were watching the Short-tailed, a flock of six Bar-tailed Godwits flew past.

We spent the next few hours on Mottled Petrel watch but couldn’t turn one up. Eventually, Isaac spotted another immature Short-tailed Albatross approaching us from behind, coming up our port side. Again, I ran to the stern and started chumming. Almost immediately an adult Long-tailed Jaeger showed up to inspect the chum. The number of Laysan Albatrosses began to build as well. Soon there were two Red-legged Kittiwakes along with Black-legged Kittiwakes. Then finally the Short-tailed Albatross made an appearance. And then it disappeared again. And then it showed up again, or so we thought at first. It was actually another Short-tailed. This one’s primary feathers were all fully grown. The previous Short-tailed was undergoing primary molt. We need to study the photos of the first and third Short-tailed to make sure they aren’t one and the same.

The second Short-tailed Albatross (photo by Isaac Helmericks)

We finished the day with three albatross species, three jaeger species, both kittiwakes, five species of auklets (Cassin’s Auklet was new for the trip), and a few other seabirds. Tomorrow when we wake up, we should be in Casco Cove at Attu.

When I woke up this morning, we were east of Gareloi Island. We crossed over to the Eastern Hemisphere late this afternoon, and as I write this at 7:15 pm, we are due south of Semisopochnoi Island. Lots of Laysan Albatrosses today and a few Black-footed Albatrosses here and there. I saw one albatross this afternoon that I thought may have been an immature Short-tailed, but Isaac said he saw a Black-footed a minute earlier. Luckily, “my”albatross kept flying away from us, so neither one of us could be proven wrong. I did try chumming the bird back to us, but only Laysan Albatrosses came in. We had about 20-25 Laysans around the boat while chumming.

We just went through a large concentration of Least Auklets south of Semisopochnoi. Crested Auklets were scattered in with them. In the early morning, we also had a few Parakeet and Whiskered Auklets, giving us the Aethia grand slam. We also had a few Thick-billed Murres, our first of the trip.

We’ll probably pass Kiska Island sometime tonight in the dark, Buldir around 2 PM tomorrow, and make it to Attu about 12 hours later. But travel time is always dependent on the weather, so we shall see.

Last we talked, I was checking out Aaron Lang’s awesome new floor and then calling it a night. The next day was all about the bikes. We may do a few things differently than the old Attour trips did (we don’t fly, we stay on a boat, etc.), but we still get around on bikes just like they did. I already had a fleet of about 11 bikes that I had to make sure still worked, and I bought four new ones. We have more birders this year than 2010, plus I wanted to upgrade the fleet.

The area where I have my gear stored has a lot of moose. There’s usually one hanging around the yard. I didn’t even notice this one at first:

I could tell you all about the assembly of the bikes, the careful adjustments of the derailleurs, making sure all the tires were properly inflated and all the tools were there, but it was as exciting as it sounds. The pinnacle of excitement was when the front derailleur cable went out whack (I apologize for the use of bike jargon), and I had to use a rope to make up for my lack of a proper work stand.

I’ll momentarily jump forward to the end of the bike work. Here’s the fleet, ready to be loaded on the Puk-uk:

Enough about the bikes. I also snuck in some birding time on the Homer Spit and nearby spots. Some of the best birds were two Yellow-billed Loons and a few distant Steller’s Eider. My usual camera was in the shop, and my attempts at digiscoping didn’t come out, so sorry no photos of those birds. But here are a few not-too-blurry shots:

Finally, I’ll leave you with my favorite street sign in Homer. It’s a perfectly fine nautical term, but my maturity level makes me find humor in it.