The (not so epic) return to castle island.
Note, please read the prequel to this lab note below before this one for maximum enjoyment of this note:
https://experiment.com/u/zefUBA
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15 hoofprints frozen in the ground,
Shadows of creatures that once had been.
20 snowbirds made of sound,
never to be seen.
A single porpoise in the bay,
shattering the waves on the edge of dawn
the stone where the seals once lay,
the gulls now sit like cairns upon.
frozen under a ruddy sky,
rivers of blood flow in ample supply,
not gruesome but a brilliant lie
a wild dream that makes one sigh.
yeah, if you don't know this already, like any Princeton kid, I am madly pretentious and angsty.
have a poem.
you may now return to the regularly scheduled program.
Hey experimenters!
the day of this lab note marks December 1st, and for those of us who live in the northern part of the northern hemisphere, that means cold time. As a thin-blooded New Jerseyan, winter means upper 30's ( 0-4 degrees for all of you Celsius users) and a sprinkling of cold precipitation and some wind. however, if you have read my previous notes, you many know that some of my pigeon trapping sites are in colder localities, and one such locality was castle island in Boston, where very few bird where trapped.
Over the thanksgiving holiday, my dad and I packed up the old silver minivan and headed up to castle island in hopes of remedying our pitiful pigeon count of four from the last trapping trip to the island.
However, the bar on the corner, named " Murphy's law" should have been a warning to us............ as the trip did not go as planned
when we arrived on the evening of the 28th, we here surprised with a less than optimal flock size, about 15 birds compared to the 30+ that had been in the area over the summer. most of the flock was snuggled up on the windows on the fort in the middle of the park, and some where still in the embrasures, although my dad informed me that they where actually called "gun holes" (boring!). Because the sun was setting when we arrived, the birds where not moving, and we had to leave for the night. I had been prepared for the cold of boston harbor at night, but forgot to brace myself for the brutal wind. wind, that decided to carry away the one baseball cap I had brought on the trip into the sea. I've lost tons of hats to the wind before, but this time I was being watched by about eight people, none of whom where my friends. I was also being watched by a harbor porpoise.... I bet that porpoise is wearing my hat right now and laughing....
Day two had a good start, it was windy, but two pigeons where caught in the bow-net on the side of a sidewalk, all in one deployment of the trap. On the net's second deployment, the pigeon inside escaped, leaving me with a pile of pigeon feathers, with no pigeon. after the first two deployments, the pigeons where reasonably cautious.
unfortunately, throwing bread, with had worked before, only attracted massive flocks of gulls. these gulls, where everywhere from distant seal basking rocks in the bay to right under our car. I spent a little too much time watching the gulls, hoping to pick out a rarity, probably an Iceland or glaucous gull, from the flock of more common species. sadly, none of these where present and I found myself throwing bread to a flock of common "dumpster chickens" that included ring billed, herring and greater black backed gulls.
On a walk around the fort, I found two pigeons in a gun hole, one flew out when it saw me, but the other retreated deeper into the hole, I saw my chance and ran to the hole. putting my hands over the hole, the pigeon was shocked, and jumped forward, right into my hands.
However, as it did this, a fierce, pigeon-wing wind blew a strong gust of dried pigeon droppings into my face, and I was so stunned, I was unable to get a good grip on the bird, and it flew away.
After one hour or more of more failed attempts at capture, the pigeons sat on a telephone wire for their 12:30 nap. I decided that because we where on on and island, I decided I would get some enjoyment out of the local waterfowl.
Two Boston police officers where also in the park that day, riding two, big black Friesian horses. The sight of the massive horses brought me a bit of nostalgia for when I was elementary school, and and met a sweet, brown Clydesdale named Rosa at summer camp. Rosa was a big, yet soft horse, who loved nothing more than when the other kids and I would run up to her shouting "Rosa! Rosa! Rosa!", especially when we had big fistfuls of tasty vegetables we had stolen from our kitchens at home. Rosa would then nicker and shake her head, and humbly accept her gifts with horselike resolve.
I don't do horses anymore, as any sort of equestrian sport on the high school level requires being ridiculously competitive, owning your own horse, and being under 100 pounds. All three of of those things keep me from ever touching a horse again after elementary school, and I might never again.
looks like it's just pigeons for me from now and on.
Back on track, when I got back to my dad, all heck broke loose. while I was out watching ducks, flamingo-y things, horses and sleeping pigeons, the park service paid a little visit to my dad.
Apparently, someone called the park service on us because we where catching birds, and they didn't like it. this would have been fine, but I made a mistake that was glaring when the rangers came to check our permit.
I made made the mistake of not leaving a voicemail for the permit officer, whom I had tried to contact many times by phone, but failed. as it turned out, because of this failure on my part, the park officials had no clue we where legally trapping pigeon in the park, and where worried that someone was illegally catching birds out of the park.
we got off with a warning, and where told to "trap discreetly" to avoid more complaints.
the issue with this it that it was technically a permit violation, and my permit may have been revoked for it. I stood by the side of the for fo a while, not sure what to do, but then, hoping down the sidewalk came a snow bunting or, the more commonly called "snowbird". I had heard 20+ of these guys calling before, but could not see them, so it was nice that this little fellow showed up.
like eiders, snow bunting are one of my favorite birds, but unlike eiders, are not in my top three bird families (pigeons, rails, ducks). they are just nice little birds and SO DARN ADORABLE.
unfortunately, the sighing of the snow bunting marked the beginning of the end.
the pigeons had figured us out by now, and had learned we where dangerous, and my dad and I where on pins and needles trying not to draw attention to ourselves.
this issue here is pigeons are clever little birds, and had all learned to avoid us and our traps. on the second day of trapping, not a single bird neared our traps, and we where forced to leave the park on Saturday with only two more data points Than before.
the good news:
the "banded roller" seen over the summer was gone, but a pigeon still showed us a deep roll, this bird appeared to be a normal feral animal, but then, before the eyes of my dad and I, plummeted to the ground in a free falling somersault. of course, the bird swooped up and rejoined it's flock. this was amazing! and showed that the rolling reflex is not only seen in the roller and it's direct offspring. how do we know this? pigeon genetics. take a look at the pigeon below, this is the band roller. Note it's wing pattern, known as "checker" this is a dominant trait. if this bird where to breed with a non-checker bird, it's offspring would also be checker.
Now, take a look at the birds in the red circles, one of these birds was seen rolling. No checker! this means that the rolling bird was either a very distant decent of the banded roller, or developed the reflex on it's own! this means that many generations of rollers must have survived and bred in the wild here, and the idea that the rolling reflex is lethal is truly a myth.
ok, part two.
so as a pretentious little princetonian, when you got to Massachusetts, you are bound to go to Harvard to.... look around and stuff? thankfully, my dad and I where able to get a tour, and you know what greeted us right as we stepped onto campus grounds?
A flock of about 50 tame pigeons, pecking at my feet.
So now I need to figure out how to catch pigeons in Cambridge......
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