The strange world of water birds (originally published spring 2004)

It’s like a different world. 

A world where you look around and see nothing but birds. No cars, no trains, no Wal-Mart and pretty much no people. Just birds. 

A world where strange birds exist — birds such as the American oystercatcher with its awesome red bill and the glossy ibis with its peculiar silhouette. 

 A world where even common birds are seen in a different light. Herring gulls nest along the ground and are therefore somehow worthy of more respect than the ones begging at the beach. Double-crested cormorants are everywhere, but you never tire of seeing them. Common terns by the dozens (hundreds?) fly all around. Their sharp voice is your constant companion. 

Egrets and herons nest in the trees, making an impressive spectacle in their decorative breeding plumage. 

Believe it or not, this world is within easy driving distance. 

It’s the islands off the coast of New England, both in the Atlantic Ocean and the Long Island Sound.

I canoed out to the islands off the coast of Norwalk, Conn., at the end of last summer and got a small taste of what they offered in terms of birdwatching. But last weekend I visited the islands for the first time in the spring and came away with an entirely new perspective. 

Capt. Larry Flynn and I met another friend at the South Norwalk Boat Club shortly after 8 a.m. A heavy fog shrouded the mainland and the Sound looked even more muddled. That wasn’t going to stop us. Flynn is an experienced boater and knows the local waters well. Besides, we were all pretty eager to get out there. 

Using my acute nautical instincts, I sensed that Flynn was headed due south through the fog to Sheffield Island. After seeing several birds along the way, we came to a shore and picked out the shorebirds: ruddy turnstones, American oystercatchers, willets, dunlins, sanderlings. 

“Here’s Cockenoe Island. I love this place,” said Flynn of the island off the coast Westport. 

We were traveling pretty much due east. So much for my nautical instincts. 

After checking out the shorebirds on a sandbar, Flynn backtracked to another part of the island and dropped the anchor. 

Back on solid ground we spied more shorebirds, including spring-plumaged black-bellied plovers. The large shorebirds were a big hit with the three of us. Egrets, terns and gulls flew overhead. Warbler song filled the air, especially the ubiquitous sweet singing of the yellow warbler. It was the best of two worlds: shorebirds and other birds associated with the sea, along with warblers and other migrating songbirds utilizing the trees and shrubs. 

We tried in vain to find the yellow warbler we kept hearing, but along the way spotted a ruby-throated hummingbird, red-eyed vireo, American redstart and a few other warblers, and catbirds. Steering clear of the nesting gulls we watched as night herons, great-blue herons and glossy ibis flew overhead. A small flock of brant swam close to shore. 

Before getting back on the boat we watched for a long time as a ruddy turnstone and dunlin stood side by side. Their markings and coloration looked incredible in the morning light filtering through the lifting fog. 

Flynn took us to the other side of the island and we watched the egrets and herons on their nests. This part of the island is off limits to foot traffic and we kept the boat a respectful distance away. In one eyeful we watched great egrets, snowy egrets and black-crowned night herons sitting in the trees by the shore. 

Then we headed back west, along the Norwalk Islands. After mistaking a few cormorants for loons, we finally found a breeding plumaged common loon near Sheffield Island. I’m accustomed to seeing loons on remote lakes and ponds in northern New Hampshire so to see one decked out in spring plumage on the Sound was a different experience. 

We also found a female red-breasted merganser, most likely still lingering from spending the winter here. 

Cruising the islands more, we saw dozens more terns and cormorants, we checked out the ospreys nesting on a platform near Manresa power plant. As we sat in the cove, a great egret and snowy egret stood together on a sandbar, offering a good look for comparing the two white waders. 

As we slowly made our way back into Norwalk Harbor we passed dozens of boaters heading out to the Sound. Our day was ending already and theirs was just beginning. 

Birdwatchers seem to have a different perspective on life. The islands, with its strange birds and promise of solitude, offer a perfect outlet for that perspective. 

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