By Mark Rauzon

What does it mean to take direct action to save seabirds? Pulling weeds? Poisoning ants? Trapping rats? Killing cats? How far would you go?
I had the chance to plumb the depths of these actions when I worked for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service in Hawaii. As a young graduate student in 1982, I was attending the University of Hawaii while working for the USFWS when an opportunity came my way — to voyage to an equatorial desert island called Jarvis to eliminate feral cats from what was once a vast seabird colony. That event changed my life and started my career in the Pacific, one that has taken me over 30 years to experience, explore, and now explain.
Few people have ever heard of the flyspecks of land scattered across the vast Pacific that represent America’s oceanic frontier. Who knows about Howland Island, the “ratoll” where Amelia Earhart was headed; or Baker Island where germ warfare testing took place; or Jarvis Island, the “catoll” on the equator?
Perhaps better known are the military bases of Wake Island and Johnston Atoll, and the Palmyra Atoll yacht harbor. But Uncle Sam had been sailing along the desolate isles of Oceania for centuries, far enough away to be out of sight, out of mind, where anything goes, and often did, only to be quickly forgotten. Each island has a hidden history, a secret story to tell, and an ecological lesson to teach. My new book — Isles of Amnesia: The History, Geography, and Restoration of America’s Forgotten Pacific Islands — is a summary of these stories, lessons, and forgotten tales.
White Terns, by Mark Rauzon
My experiences coincided with the development of island conservation as a field of study. From my cat eradication days at Jarvis during the great El Niño of 1982-83, I witnessed the recovery of the island from a colony where seven species clung to existence, to a place of 14 breeding seabird species and the largest colony of seabirds in the tropical Pacific. The gratification of seeing direct action “make” new birds inspired me to continue, and I went on to lead and advocate for other eradication efforts. Over the decades, the field developed through successes and failures to a point where vast acreages are today cleared of invasive animals via helicopter poisoning campaigns.
In the course of my work on Pacific Island conservation, I uncovered hidden American histories like germ warfare testing.

By Steve and Carol Lombardi
The north slope of Mt. Diablo near Clayton offers one of the best birding spots in the East Bay. Mitchell Canyon is a shady, steep-sided, north-facing canyon with varied habitat and more-or-less permanent water. It provides easy access to both the casual stroller and the serious hiker/biker/equestrian. (Birding by horse? Now, there’s a concept.)
The canyon is a delightful place to bird year-round, but becomes spectacular from late April to early May. This is when migrant warblers, flycatchers, and others make brief visits on the way to their summer breeding grounds. And the canyon’s resident breeders show up and make themselves known with their songs.
While you’re there, don’t spend all your time looking up into the canopy. Be sure to enjoy the plethora of spring-blooming wildflowers alongside the trail. The canyon is one of the best places to see the Mt. Diablo globe lily (Calochortus pulchellus Benth.) among many other wildflowers.
Because of the canyon’s steep sides and deep shade, the area provides several different habitat types. Pine-oak woodland, riparian, grassland, chaparral, and sage scrub are all accessible in a relatively short walk.
Mitchell Canyon in springtime, by Scott Hein
Mitchell Canyon in the dry season, by Matt Guziejka
All northside trails into the park eventually lead to Mitchell Canyon (see the park map listed below). From the Clayton entrance, Mitchell Canyon Road follows Mitchell Creek and runs moderately uphill for about two miles through oak woodland and riparian habitat. It then breaks out of the trees and becomes a steep climb through chaparral and scrub, eventually emerging onto Summit Road in the main part of the park after several strenuous miles. If you’re out for a morning bird walk, the beginning of the steep portion is a good place to turn around. Of course, if you want to hike to the 3,800 foot Mt. Diablo summit, you’re welcome to do it.
A more moderate spring bird walk would start in the Mitchell Canyon visitor center parking lot. Begin by birding in the oaks around the parking area for oak breeders like White-breasted Nuthatch, and “parking lot” birds like quail and turkey. Stop in the visitor center if it’s open (quirky hours, but usually open on weekends). Walk through the native plant garden, look up at the snags for cavity-nesters like Acorn Woodpecker and European Starling, and pick up the trail guide to the numbered signposts.…

Editor’s Note: Golden Gate Bird Alliance is sponsoring a birding tour to Ecuador in fall 2016. Here’s an account of one member’s visit to Ecuador this winter.
By Krista Jordan
In January, I traveled to Ecuador for a birding adventure with my friends Jack and Farley Connelly. Our small party spent the trip with one guide, Ecuadorian naturalist and guide Miguel Hipo. Over nine days, we traveled several hundred kilometers, stayed in three lodges, and ranged from altitudes of 2,300 to 11,000 feet. I wish I’d tracked miles walked, but I can guess we averaged five or six miles each day. We slogged through mud, waited in the rain, gasped for breath at high elevation, braved large creepy crawlies, and even took a night walk three-quarters of a mile through the rain forest. We asked for the most rigorous path in order to see the most species. We got what we asked for.
Was it worth it? Emphatically, yes! I wish I could do it all over again. We saw 293 species in that time, each one magical. Below is a log of our journey:
Farley and I flew from SFO to Panama City and eventually into Quito, where Jack was waiting for us. It was my first time in South America and I was amazed at the terrain. Quito is located in the northern highlands of Ecuador and, at around 9,340 feet, holds the title of the highest capital city in the world. It is flanked by volcanoes, some snow-capped and visible on a clear day. The city is 1,600 square miles with a population of 2.2 million. We drove along the edges — deep, dry canyons hugging the walls of the foothills. Everything was so different, with sparse vegetation and desert-like terrain. We passed through suburbs and barrios, eventually leaving the paved roads for a steep muddy trail leading up to our lodge – an 18th century Spanish hacienda located in the highland rainforest at nearly 11,000 feet!
View of Quito from lodge grounds by Krista Jordan
The San Jorge Quito Eco-Lodge sits on 230 acres of untouched, protected land. When we arrived, it looked like paradise. Beautiful grounds lined with gardens, all stacked with hummingbird feeders. We immediately pulled out our binoculars and field guides and forgot how hungry and tired we were from the travel. But eventually we sat down for lunch and watched Sparkling Violetears and Shining Sunbeams dive bomb one another, sometimes really close to our heads.…

By Ilana DeBare
Whether you count birds for your life list or simply count the days until your next bird outing, here’s a number that will impress you:
106 donors.
Each of whom gave money to sponsor Dan Harris in last year’s Golden Gate Bird Alliance Birdathon!
Yes, Dan got 106 of his friends and family members to donate to Birdathon, raising a whopping sum of $2,526 – the most of any Birdathon participant in 2015.
Hearing a number like that, you might think that Dan has some kind of fundraising super-powers. Maybe a salesman by profession? Or a bundler for political candidates?
But no… this super-fundraiser is a normal guy who loves birds, volunteers with Golden Gate Bird Alliance, and got over his initial fear of asking people to support GGBA.
“I was somewhat apprehensive at first asking family and friends for money,” Dan recalled, “but was pleasantly surprised, overwhelmed, and humbled by the tremendous support received from so many people.”
Dan Harris / Photo by Ilana DeBare
Dan, a retired environmental planner with the U.S. Department of Transportation, lives in San Francisco and started birding about seven years ago when his friend Jeff took him to see waterfowl at Las Gallinas Storage Ponds in San Rafael. He loved it and bought his own binoculars. Jeff would take Dan and other friends birding in Marin and Sonoma Counties and out to the Sacramento Valley. But after a while Dan realized, “Hey, I’m retired, I don’t have to wait for Jeff and my other working friends to go birding, I can go on my own!” and started taking part in Golden Gate Bird Alliance field trips and classes.
Dan’s first Birdathon was 2013. He signed up for a trip to Coyote Hills and saw that the suggested fundraising goal for that trip was $500.
“I thought, ‘How am I going to raise $500?’” Dan reasoned, “I figured a $10 donation is not too much to ask, so I just need to get fifty people to give $10. I sent emails to 50 or 60 people. I was overwhelmed by their generosity and ended up raising $857.”
Ring-necked Ducks, photographed in Golden Gate Park during a past Birdathon by Dan Harris
How did he come up with a list of 50 or 60 people? It wasn’t as hard as it sounds. He sent emails to various folks from his hiking group, his havurah (a Jewish family group), his friends and family, his wife’s friends and family, former co-workers, and fellow birders he’d met on Audubon walks.…

Editor’s Note: The San Francisco Chronicle ran an excellent story this weekend on San Francisco’s Snowy Plovers, which we are reprinting here in case you missed it. Our only quibble is with their description of longtime GGBA stalwart Dan Murphy as a… “hobby birder!” That’s kind of like describing Stephen Curry as an “adequate basketball player.”  (Wink.) Click here to view the original story with the Chronicle’s plover photos.
By Lizzie Johnson
Tucked among the dunes of Ocean Beach, dozens of white-breasted shorebirds roost. And this year, their numbers have quadrupled.
The sandy shores of the Crissy Field Wildlife Protection Area and Ocean Beach are a stopping-point for the Western snowy plover, a 6-inch shorebird with dark patches on its back. The average count at the bird’s overwintering ground is usually in the mid-20s. But this January, National Park Service workers counted as many as 104 plovers in a single day.
That’s a record number since the Park Service began observing and monitoring the population in 1994, a year after the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service designated the species as threatened. The snowy plover population on the West Coast — with 85 percent in California, and some in Oregon and Washington — has dwindled to 2,100 individuals, and they remain threatened by habitat loss, predation and human population growth.
Adult male Western Snowy Plover / Photo by Jerry Ting
Local number grows
“It’s really exciting that we have so many of these birds out there at the western edge of San Francisco,” said Bill Merkle, wildlife ecologist for the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. “The last couple of years, the local population has been increasing, especially this year. It is likely because the birds had good breeding years.”
But local numbers aren’t indicative of an overall snowy plover growth trend. The population has remained steady, largely because of habitat protection and education, said Andrea Jones, director of bird conservation for Audubon California.
“The population hasn’t been increasing or decreasing as a general trend,” Jones said. “That is both good and bad. There is a ton that goes into protecting these birds in their nesting habitats. At the same time, the population isn’t getting to where it needs to be.”
It has been tough for the species to recover because the snowy plover breeds and overwinters in different places, said Cindy Margulis, executive director of the Golden Gate Bird Alliance. The birds breed in coastal dune habitats in areas like Monterey and the Point Reyes National Seashore, and then rest in San Francisco during July through April.…