Naturalists on view tallying birds of prey

CAPE MAY POINT, N.J. -- Broad-winged hawks don't get mail from the U.S. Census Bureau. Peregrine falcons won't pause long enough to fill out the form.

The task of counting birds of prey is done one at a time through binoculars by naturalists like Bruce McWhorter, who stands vigil on a platform at the extreme southern tip of New Jersey.

And visitors are welcome to listen, learn and witness the spectacle of the annual Atlantic migration. McWhorter, financed by the New Jersey Audubon Society, is there daily, often accompanied by education specialists such as Derek Lovitch who help him count or to greet visitors.

"We get people who have been birding once or twice and we get people who have been birding all of their lives," Lovitch says.

When the air traffic is heavy enough -- on certain days in October the hawk and falcon migrants number in the thousands -- they will bark out sightings and, if time allows, explain just how they made the ID.

Marking trends

"The most common question without a doubt is how do you know you are not counting the same bird twice," McWhorter says. "The simple answer is that we don't."

Spotting the day's first Cooper's hawk, he clicks one of a series of counters he uses. The totals from the previous day are posted on a board.

"Nobody uses these totals as numbers," he explains. "This is a trend analysis."

This sharp-eyed style of birding is as exciting as it is unique.

First of all, these are the raptors, the kings of the bird world, the creatures that many scientists believe are the living descendants of predatory dinosaurs. They are called raptors because they use their claws to kill.

Their ranks include the always impressive bald eagle and the osprey, the broad-winged hawk known to loiter by the hundreds in circling "kettles," and the peregrine falcon, the fastest living creature with an attack speed of up to 200 mph.

The falcons strike other birds, usually in mid-air. Ospreys hover over the ocean, then fold their wings and plunge into the sea to kill a fish. And bald eagles, well, they prefer to steal food from others, though they are well capable of killing all manner of critters.

Watching the raptors on the newly constructed platform at Cape May State Park -- more famous among most tourists for its towering lighthouse -- is different than classic birding. The standard field guides are of little use because the raptors first appear as black shapes low on the horizon.

McWhorter relies on postures, behavior, flight patterns and the manner or speed with which they beat their wings. Novices, advanced birders and casual passers-by, if their eyes or binoculars are good enough, can learn quickly how the experts are doing it. In short order, they will be able to identify a few themselves, at least some of the more common species.

Usually a few of the raptors come in to offer a closer look. Adding to the show is the fact that although they migrate together, raptors tend to be cranky and do not get along especially well. Frequently they snap or lunge at each other. A privileged sight is when peregrine falcons go at it, a contest that can include locking claws and spinning one another.

Dead end route

Why here? A glance at a large enough map answers the question. From June to January, millions of birds migrate down the Eastern seaboard, some from above the Arctic circle, some bound for Argentina. All manner of species move. Little warblers. Majestic herons. Geese and ducks by the thousands. And above them all, the raptors.

It's largely clear sailing the whole route except at the southern tip of New Jersey, where the birds heading south are suddenly confronted with the 13-mile expanse of the Delaware Bay. Flying over water is no fun, and for many species it is impossible without favorable winds. Surrounded by ocean on three sides, Cape May Point is a dead end.

As a result, the birds get backed up and all of southern Cape May County becomes a birder's haven. More different species of birds have been spotted here than at any other locale in North America. It is not uncommon to find birders coming from Virginia, Ohio or Massachusetts.

"I was going to leave New Jersey until I became a serious birder," says Lloyd Shaw of Laurel Springs. "I thought it was all pollution and highways. I became enlightened to its natural wonders."

Shaw says he is especially taken with how many birders from Europe he has encountered over the years.

There are abundant birding sites with meadows and marshes to find the Tennessee warbler, king rail, black skimmer and yellow-legged sandpipers. Sometimes the white egrets will let you get so close you might think you were at a zoo.

Sounding alarm

The state park here has trails leading from the dunes through forests to ponds and marshes. The neighboring Nature Conservancy refuge, known locally as the Meadows, has an excellent loop trail going from marsh to seashore. Short drives lead to Higbee Beach refuge and the Rea Farm, both veritable Disneylands of warblers and other songbirds.

In fact, it is these wooded areas where visitors will run into the serious veterans seeking out exotic warblers or flycatchers. Volunteer guide Karl Lukens relates a slogan: "First I didn't see him. Then he was gone."

Nearby Cape May city offers tourist comforts, with scores of Victorian bed-and-breakfasts, quirky shops and top-notch restaurants.

But it is the raptors that from September through November draw special attention, and that have been counted in this manner for decades precisely because they are at the top of the food chain. If they are in trouble, humans are in trouble.

Counts like these played a role in setting off alarms in the 1960s that these hunters were in danger of extinction, and in the past decade the bald eagle and peregrine falcon have recovered sufficiently to be removed from the endangered species list.