Let’s face it, we all woke up this morning with the same question: what’s going on with seabirds right now? I’m glad you asked, because the answer is “a whole helluva lot.” I’m sure you’ve noticed at least some of the elevated bird activity over the various saltwater bodies that surround us. From great, shifting skeins of sea ducks pouring in from the north like wildfire smoke, to swirling squadrons of gannets plunging headlong into bait balls in the bay, this is an exciting time of year to live by the beach, assuming, of course, that you are bird-aware.
Northern Gannets have been the stars of late, swarming the skies over Cape Cod Bay, around Race Point, and down the backside. With nearly 6-foot wingspans these huge seabirds lumber around over the ocean like modern Pteranodons in search of schools of baitfish. Adults are eye-catchingly white with black wingtips and a mustard-colored head, but young are brown variously splotched with white for four or five years before earning their adult plumage, similar to Bald Eagles. I personally caught a show of over a thousand gannets off Gray’s Beach in Yarmouth last week, where big flocks have been parked over the mouth of Barnstable Harbor for a couple of weeks. The flock I saw spanned the horizon. Others have reported up to 7000 gannets off Race Point this week. A good look at a big flock of plunge diving gannets is something you’ll never forget.
Gannets aren’t the only big birds patrolling our waters right now. You’ll also get an eyeful of eiders, see scores of scoters, and get a load of a lot of loons. Both Common and the slimmer, Arctic-nesting Red-throated Loons are on the water now in good numbers. Big black-and-white flocks of Common Eiders, our hemisphere’s heaviest duck, are usually flying and rafting close enough to shore that anyone can see them. Further out, hundreds of White-winged, Surf, and Black Scoters wing by in big mixed flocks, while others rest and dive on the surface. The last of the summer shearwaters are still out there, including a few Manx, Great, and Cory’s Shearwaters on the bay and backside. All should be gone by month’s end, headed back to the South Atlantic or the Mediterranean, depending on the species, and are daily being replaced by the winter piscivores: loons, mergansers, and, eventually, kittiwakes and Razorbills.
One problem with these flocks is that, despite the bigness and sheer abundance of the birds, they are often just far enough out to be invisible to the average dog walker or oblivious beach parking lot phone scroller. You need at least binoculars to appreciate what’s happening, and I often use a 20-60 power spotting scope as well. But at least get some binocs, perhaps from a local purveyor of fine birding optics, say, in Orleans, and start scanning the sea.
Sometimes, while sorting through all this bird activity over the water, you might get bonus critters. As I scanned the bay from Skaket Beach in Orleans the other day, noting the many eiders, scoters, mergansers, Long-tailed Ducks, gannets, ocean-going winter geese called Brant, and both types of loons, I saw some distant, non-bird splashing out by the horizon, then some jaunty dorsal fins on slick, arched backs. It was a pod of at least 50 or 100 common or white-sided dolphins cruising back and forth, likely chasing fish. They were maybe two miles out or more, but I got them in the scope and excitedly prodded my six-year-old son have a look. He feigned interest, but I could tell he wished they were Spinosauruses.
And so, as fall gradually gives way to winter, bringing a different bounty of birds and other fish-seeking wildlife into our waters, whether you prefer birds, dolphins, or dinosaurs, I hope we can all agree that we’d like to see a smooth transition from fall to winter seabird regimes.
