OUT!! #14: Carp Diem

When you say the name Common Carp (Cyprinus carpio), two things spring into my mind. One is that, being from the UK myself, I recognize that carp is an important sport fish to many "course" fisherman and new records regarding weight and size are sought regularly. There are even specialist magazines that deal with various issues of importance to the carp angler such as proper bait presentation, what works under certain light conditions, what bobbers work best (balsa or god forbid, plastic!), and what tents (yes, you read that correctly) can be used for adequate outdoor shelter in order to provide cover during adverse conditions. To put it in basic terms, carp fisherman are the equivalent of fly-fisherman that aspire to the "Orvis model of perfection"; the equipment and gear used must be of the highest quality, be horrendously expensive, and have an air of such sophistication and grandeur that it will intimidate those of us of a more leisurely persuasion. I might be exaggerating a bit, but this to me seems to be a fair assessment. I'm fairly sure however that many American trout fisherman wouldn't want to even be compared to the lowly trash fish that's being discussed here.

According to the Mississippi National Park Service website, carp were introduced to America on what seems to be a food-driven idea (rather than an aesthetic view which caused a great deal of non-native plant life to become established on the North American continent) perpetuated and carried out by many European immigrants who were appalled at what they perceived as being a valuable food source not being available in the waters of North America. Never mind that North America has an enormous variety of game fish to choose from, it was clear that these people wanted carp and so they brought them in by the barrel full. Nowadays, we have a better understanding of the damage introduced species can have in new landscapes. We've seen the effects of habitat displacement by species such as purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) and water chestnut or caltrop (Trapa spp.), as well as more aggressive species like Mute Swans (Cygnus olor) that drive out native waterfowl from breeding and foraging areas and destroy massive quantities of submerged aquatic vegetation (SAV). The carp have the same intentions as any biological organism, to survive by any means necessary and to live long enough to reproduce. As a result, they breed in massive numbers in the spring and can survive in conditions that would kill most game fish such as turbid, low oxygen environments. They hard to eradicate and, as these videos show, eager to conquer new territories.

These three videos feature carp that have been present in Great Meadows NWR in Concord, MA for a few years now and recently were more visible. This was due to the pumping of water from the nearby Concord River to fill the surrounding marsh with water for migrating waterfowl. As I explain throughout the videos, I'm amazed by the number and sudden appearance of these fish, as well as their introduced status and why that's problematic. Caution on the third video is advised as a minor swear is uttered briefly.

However, just over two weeks later, the marsh has been filled and the flowing waters have stopped. As a result, where the carp had originally surged to the pipe pouring water in the marsh, they are now trapped by the slowly draining pool created by the rushing torrents of river water. Even when cornered like this, their will to survive is strong and they counteract the lack of dissolved oxygen by breathing air directly as the photos above illustrate. Even so, as the upper right photo demonstrates, time is running out. Even as I passed today, the smell of fishy death is in the air and the carp that once happily swarmed to this flowing pool suddenly have found that their days are numbered.

This left me with mixed feelings. Generally, I'm pleased when a destructive and invasive species is vanquished in order to reclaim an area for native wildlife, but even if the carp in this enclosed marsh pool were fated to die, surely there has to be quicker ways of dispatching them! While I'm aware fishing is banned on the refuge itself, but surely allowing some bow-fisherman to take out the trapped fish would be more merciful than leaving them to suffocate in a watery pit. Since that's an unlikely solution, at least we can take solace in there being a few less bottom feeders ripping up our plants, crowding our fish, and foolishly dying in pools of their own watery misery. Well, at least that's what I'll be doing.

OUT!! #13: Wooden Waterfowl and Threadbare Hooks

Ever since I got my first book on the subject (a copy of Duck Hunting by Dick Sternburg and Jeff Simpson), I've been infatuated with the romance and practice of waterfowling. While I haven't gotten the chance to go yet, I hope I will be able to at some point. After getting my hunter education certificate almost two Octobers ago, I had hoped I would have gone by now, but something's has always been holding me back. Well, most things about the sport are holding me back, particularly the owning a shotgun, being able to aim at and hit targets, and having the means with which to hunt a particular area are all issues for me, but I have promised myself that it won't stop me now. Not while I still have a chance when I'm still young and have the time.

It's pretty fair to say that I idolize waterfowlers. This might seem like an overstatement, but they are, at least in my opinion, some of the most courteous, conservation-driven, and hard-working men and women in the sporting world. Within their sport exists a passion for quest and quarry that can easily be compared to other forms of hunting like deer, small game, and pheasant. But instead, it has the air of a distinctly American heritage that isn't seen in other sporting cultures around the world such as the private land shoots of European aristocracy or the safaris of Africa and India.

Hand-tied flies are always a joy to see and use.

What initially attracted me to the idea of going out waterfowling was the same thing that had attracted me to fly-fishing; it was the art and craft of making one's own tools for use in the field. In the picture to the left are three streamer flies, two nymphs, and three dry flies that I have tied within the last two years or so. The first thing that jumps to mind is their scruffy appearance which, to the eye of an expert, might put them off and refer to them as an amateur's attempt at trying to copy a natural form. But one has to keep in mind that fish, being wary but fairly simple creatures, tend only to care if they can eat something that fits easily into their mouths. The very earliest flycasters used hooks with barely any feathers and thread and still managed to catch fish, so I'm trying at the very least. Ultimately, when you see at something that you created, catching some finned denizen from a pond or stream, the pride that is felt is enormous. After catching a few panfish on my modified Brassie nymph (the small, brown, fuzzy-headed one with the thin, gold body), I caught a few more with my Fur Ant (the even fuzzier, black one above it). Such good times and yet, I want to go further.

A folksy sort-of attempt at a winter plumage Spoon-billed Sandpiper.

I want to make and hunt over my own decoys. I certainly have the ability and the means to do so. As the photos on the side attest, I have at least mastered the basics of carving and can paint a decent decoy, but I want to excel to something much trickier and that if put to proper use, would be way more rewarding.

A sleeping juvenile plumage Spoon-billed Sandpiper decoy.

Earlier this year I received probably two of the most important inspirations that have spurred my renewed interest in hunting waterfowl. The first was the discovery of Jeff Coats' channel on YouTube. The man has an immense passion for hunting sea ducks and Brant (Branta bernicla) in Maryland, as well as other waterfowl in other parts of the country like the southern bayous or the Pacific coast. After watching his documentation of Pat Vincenti's method of making Susquehanna Flats style Surf Scoter (Melanitta perspicillata) decoys as well as his own videos on how he makes working decoys for his guiding business, I was blown away by the dedication the man had to his sport and to his craft of decoy making. Seeing someone willing to put the time and effort into building and maintain their own "blocks" was a real inspiration to me. With that spark, I set out to look for other sources of inspiration. I'm pleased to say that I wasn't disappointed.

Earlier in the summer, I got the opportunity to visit the Ward Museum of Waterfowl Art in Salisbury, MD, a museum dedicated to exhibiting the craft and art form of working and realistic waterfowl decoys, as well as other bird carvings. Some of my favorite pieces came from the namesake of the museum, the Ward brothers themselves, in an exhibit which contained a detailed replica of their workshop down to the paintbrushes, blocks of wood, and carving tools they used to make it all happen. Like most famous decoy carvers, they were originally hunters who carved their own flocks of birds to hunt over. Other famous area decoy makers include Robert F. McGaw, Samuel T. Barnes, and the revered R. Madison Mitchell, who with their own unique carving patterns and styles, maintained a presence in hunting culture within the area. Today, many of their works are considered to be collectables and are prized possessions to many a modern collector.

With all sorts of inspiration around, I recently got down to the how-to of decoy making. After recently finishing of my Hooded Merganser (Lophodytes cucullatus) decoy (needs eyes however), I'm feeling ready to start my flock of decoys. Turning to my beaten up copy of the aforementioned "Duck Hunting", I looked into what supplies I would need to start learning the right skills of the sport I have been reading about all my life. Because I'm interesting in hunting for food, I'm going for dabblers, with some of the better tasting divers like Ring-necked Duck (Aythya collaris) in mind as well. As such, on the list of decoys to make are the following:

10 Mallards (6 m/ 4 f, 2 feeders)
4 Black Duck (2 m/ 2 f, 1 feeder)
4 Wood Duck (2 m/ 2 f)
8 Scaup (4 m/ 4 f)

I'll have pictures of my progress up as I go along, but for now I'm just planning. It's time to make this dream a reality and I will make sure that I achieve it. Let the good times roll. ^_^

OUT!! #12: Records of the Birding Past

Over the past few weeks, I've been writing up a database for Bird Observer magazine, a Massachusetts- based, bimonthly, entirely volunteer-run birding blurb that features articles relevant to birding, famous people associated with birding (the issue that I have beside me documents the history and practice of Ludlow Griscom, a personal hero of mine, who worked at Harvard in the ornithology department and was a pioneer in the optical birding and field mark recognition-based birding at is utilized today) and perhaps most importantly, records of the species reported to the magazine by birders around Massachusetts throughout the year. I approached Bird Observer after starting this blog and its sister blog On the Wing: A Life Inspired by Birds and asked if I could provide articles for publication as well as offering my services to volunteer to help them out.

That was almost a month ago and I've volunteered to help with the accumulation of a database that will be used to document all Bird Observer records prior to 1994 (which presumably is when computer records began) and catalog them in an Excel spreadsheet for easy access. Recently, I've come to realize the importance of this data in relation to another goal I've set for myself this year. As I mention many times on the biweekly updates of On The Wing, I'm currently trying to get 300 species of birds on my life list by the end of the year. I'm currently at 293 after a very successful trip to Parker River NWR this past Friday and now need only 7 species to round up the list. What really got me thinking about the importance of the work I'm doing for Bird Observer was the recent purchase of the three volume set of Edward Howe Forbush's "Birds of Massachusetts and Other New England States" as well as Ludlow Griscom's "Birds of Concord" and Frank Chapman's "Handbook of Birds of Eastern North America"

I will freely admit that I'm a lover of old books, especially about birds or nature. What I would give for an original copy of John Gould's paintings or Audubon's Elephant Folio, but alas lacking the requisite funds or stealth points needed to steal such works, I can still admire the civilian reproductions that show up every few years or so. Just recently my girlfriend got me a copy of "The Birds of America" with commentaries by William Vogt and I love reading his species descriptions ascribed to the over 300 species Audubon shot and painted over much of his life. However, over the past few days I've been using Forbush's and Chapman's guides to give me a sense when I should be focusing on certain migrants during this year's fall migration. Over the past several weeks, I've watched several warbler and sparrow species I've never seen before, as well as witnessing a very rare and accidental Say's Phoebe (Sayornis saya) that had been present at Parker River since Thursday of this past week. Needless to say, these texts not only mention the presence of these rare birds in Massachusetts beforehand, but also have the dates and places they were seen (and then subsequently dispatched by bird shot).

What this tells us whether you're a casual birder, an ornithologist, a biologist, or just about anyone interested in the presence of birds in our neighbourhoods and surrounding areas is that changes have been occurring since these records were compiled. For example, earlier this summer I posted this to On The Wing discussing the legacy of Ludlow Griscom in Massachusetts, as well as, the population trends and abundances of the species he frequently saw on his travels around eastern half of the state. He described how many forest species like chickadees and Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata) had suffered as a result of the massive logging of Eastern forests that had taken place in prior generations, while other species that preferred opener stretches of forest and farmland thrived. Nowadays, the opposite is occurring with forests heading towards or having attained small patches of mature glory, while the farm fields and secondary growth forests have suffered with age and patchier distribution.

Ultimately, what I hope to get out of this is a way to determine the periods in the year when certain species are more common and therefore more easily viewed while providing a picture of the changes that have occurred to bird populations in Massachusetts and adjacent New England states during the same period. What I'm especially excited about is what new species might be moving into New England over the next few years (or more realistically, decades). The recent influx of southerners in the last seventy years such as cardinals, titmice, and the almost ubiquitous Carolina Wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus) are great evidence of that. I personally can't wait to see Blue Grosbeaks (Passerina caerulea) up here more frequently, but that's a dream for now. Hopefully soon I can begin to make such comparisons, but until then it's a cold, hard slog through cold, hard data. I wouldn't have it any other way.

OUT!!: Posting Notes

I just wanted to let you guys know that I'll be updating more than twice a month just to try something out. Over the past few weeks, I've really gotten into the blogging world with the sister blog, On The Wing: A Life Inspired by Birds and wanted to update this one a bit more often as well. So I'll be updating three times a month rather than two just so I can get more ideas flowing. Just a simple update since a new month has arrived. Hope to update soon.