Long time Cape Codders know the sound of the now scarce Whip-poor-will. Once common throughout the pine-oak woods of the state, development and fire suppression, plus declines in their preferred insect prey, have them barely hanging on, mostly where agencies actively manage pine barrens with burning and tree thinning - think Myles Standish State Forest and Camp Edwards. As if Whip-poor-wills didn’t have enough problems, their rude cousin Chuck has come to stay and is showing no signs of leaving.
I’m talking about the mysterious Chuck-will’s-widow, a bird getting more common each year here on the Cape and Islands. I say rude facetiously of course – it’s not like Whip-poor-wills are the picture of decorum and class. This is a species, after all, that screams their own name at you all night long. On Monday night I heard one from Barnstable Harbor marina that was calling a mile and half away on Sandy Neck.
But much larger cousin Chuck has the rude habit of eating other birds, including warblers and other songbirds, who they swallow whole, as well as the occasional bat or tree frog. They’ve been known to set up near hummingbird feeders and pick the hummingbirds off like moths, engulfing them in their freakishly huge mouths. Plus they also scream their name at you all night.
Chuck-will’s-Widows were southern birds to John James Audubon, nesting no further north than Virginia in the 19th century. But like so many southern birds, during my lifetime they have invaded the northeast, including Long Island and Cape Cod. Like whip-poor-wills they are supremely camouflaged and totally nocturnal, so finding nests to confirm breeding is a tall order.
In winter they grow quiet and disappear into forest from the Caribbean to South America. They sometimes migrate over water, resulting in rare daytime views – as I swam at a Florida beach back in April, I watched one fly in off the Gulf in the middle of the morning. It took me about 30 seconds to even realize what that big weird bird was, right before it disappeared into the sea grape.
With several calling birds year after year in places like Camp Edwards, Nantucket, and the Cape Cod National Seashore woods by Nauset Light in Eastham, it’s safe to say these are breeding populations. The Eastham colony has gone from one bird throughout summer of 2024, to two last year, and now up to four this summer. On Nantucket, as many as six have been recorded in the Sesachacha Heathlands, where they often outnumber Whip-poor-will’s 5 to 1.
The Vinyard, where southern creatures often establish their first beach head, has a long history of hosting multiple Chucks, with Vern Laux estimating at least ten way back in 1997. There’s even a bizarre record of one sitting on someone’s roof, in late December, in Oak Bluffs, which is a long way from the warm forests of Hispaniola or Colombia.
I think we, and the Whip-poor-wills, can expect more and more of cousin Chuck around here.
With summer here, I suspect you too may have some reluctant-to-leave relatives of your own dropping in. Hopefully your cousin Chuck won’t scream all night or eat your hummingbirds.
