trying to help
fangsheath said:
It is indeed important and valuable to raise questions and examine each piece of evidence critically. In this thread, though, it must be done in the context of aiding searchers and/or ivory-bill conservation. For example, if someone comes forward with, "Here is a photo of a pileated with a crest that appears similar to that of the bird in Mike's video," that is fine. Or, "How much do we really know about ivory-bill double-knocks?" These are relevant to the main purposes of this thread, helping to find, document, and protect ivory-bills. On the other hand, if someone repeats, for the hundredth time, "You don't have proof," I consider that unhelpful and adversarial to our purpose. Some seem to want to argue endlessly about whether the Luneau video or other evidence is proof. That is not the purpose of this thread. If someone says, "Wingbeat rates in pileateds are variable, so we can forget about that," I consider that unhelpful, NOT at all critical analysis, no analysis at all in fact, dismissive and counterproductive. It is not insight. It is mere debate.
This is a searcher's forum. It has a very specific purpose. No, you don't have to be a searcher to post. You just have to be trying to help us find, document, and protect the birds.
OK, here's something Roger Tory Peterson wrote about HIS sighting in 1942; can't argue with this sighting ... after all, the man invented birding.
OK, well I feel there's
a lot of useful insights here ... read through the text. It took him two days to find the IBWP; but once he had found them, he was able to observe them for a while. And the same goes for other accepted sightings... James Tanner, and the IBWP sightings in Cuba in 1948 where a nice photo was taken of a bird (was that Dennis ? I believe so)
So, if the bird is present in the area where you search, it might take a few days before you can locate it, but eventually it should be possible to observe it for a while - if it is present in the area that is; and of course, it should be possible then to take some pictures ... easy.
So : not easy to locate at first, but once located, it is possible to observe and photograph.
I am personally
not convinced that this species has undergone an evolution to become all of a sudden very shy and wary and developped stealth techniques ... not possible; it would explain of course why Gallagher and Cornell can't (?) come up with proof .... but this explanation is too damn easy really. If Cornell and Gallagher DO have solid proof and HAVE indeed done good observations, it's about f$£%ing time they come up with it and make this public so that this agony for all them good people who believe in this bird stops; we all have a right to know ! They are to blame really if we fight about yes or no on this forum. So I challenge them here to share some of their insights so far ... why the secrecy ? Nobody who is sane in his mind is going to go after an ultra-rare species to shoot it to sell it's skin ?!?
Note also what Kuhn said to Peterson - indication of the best time to go out listening and searching ...
Here goes :
"In May 1942, I joined my friend Bayard Christy at a little hotel in Tallulah, Louisiana, hoping to see an ivory-bill in an expanse of swamp called the Singer Tract. Our guide was a local woodsman by the name of Kuhn, a man of great integrity who probably had seen as many ivory-bills as anyone at that time. Christy, just turned 70, said the ivory-bill was the bird he most wished to see before he died.
Setting the pace with his long swinging stride, Kuhn led us toward a section of swamp where a pair of ivory-bills had roosted the year before. He urged us to step along quickly, because the best time to locate ivory-bills is when they first leave their roosting holes in the morning. "Then they talk more," he explained.
By early afternoon we must have covered 15 or 20 miles (25 or 30 km.) within a block of woodland less than 2 or 3 miles square (7 sq. km.). We crossed and crisscrossed the best part of the swamp. Deer leaped from our path and stood watching from the shadows. The tracks of turkeys and raccoons laced the soft mud, and we even found some large round prints that Kuhn said were made by a panther. We saw many trees where ivory-bills had been at work.
Late in the afternoon, we found a hole that looked promising. We planned to watch it that evening, suspecting it might be the ivory-bills' roosting hollow, but our hopes were dashed when, at dusk, a fox squirrel entered it.
The next morning, Christy and I started out on our own. A small magnetic compass was our only guide, but we had a good mental picture of this part of the Singer Tract. We knew that the road extended from east to west and that John's Bayou crossed it from north to south. We picked our way over the same ground as the day before, alert for rattlesnakes camouflaged by the dry, silt-covered leaves. We waded the turbid waters of John's Bayou and tried the woodlands on the west bank. We found wolf tracks in the yellow mud along the margin of the stream. Many trees peeled of bark indicated that ivory-billed woodpeckers were about, but we saw none of the birds.
By noon, we were back at the spot down the road where we had seen so many diggings the day before. Hardly had we gone 100 yards (90 m.) when a startling new sound came from our right - a tooting note, musical in a staccato sort of way - a call of the ivory-bill. I had expected it to sound more like the "toy tin trumpet" described by early nineteenth-century ornithologist Alexander Wilson, or the "clarinet" of John James Audubon, the most renowned bird painter of the 1800s. What I heard was different, more of a henk, henk. An occasional blow would land - whop! - like the sound of an axe, as the woodpecker hammered a tree. Straining our eyes, we discovered the first bird, half hidden by the leafage, and in a moment the bird leaped into full sunlight.
A whacking big bird it was, with great white patches on its wings and a gleaming white bill. By its long, recurved crest of jet black, we knew it was a female. Tossing her hammerlike head to right and left, she tested a diseased tree trunk with a whack or two. Then she pitched off in a straight line, her wings making a wooden sound.
Then we spotted a second bird, which also proved to be a female. We had no trouble following the two, for as soon as they landed they betrayed their location by issuing their henk, henk call. Six months later, John Baker, president of the National Audubon Society, visited the same spot and saw only one female.
Observers in the Singer Tract reported what was presumably the same bird as late as 1946. The species had reached the end, though, and like the woodlands it inhabited, slipped into oblivion in North America. In the 1980s, ornithologists spotted ivory-bills in Cuba, but reports now say that the last of these birds are gone, too. "Extinction is forever," the saying goes. The ivory-billed woodpecker exists today only in the memories of birders."
(last sentence are Peterson's words - not mine; I remain open to all options)