Pomona Valley Audubon -
Chaparral Naturalist Archives

As an enthusiastic pelagic birder on both coasts of North America, I have found the costs sometimes far outweigh the benefits—if one is cold, wet, seasick or all of the above. I have now discovered a partial solution to this quandary, pelagic birding from land. Terra firma. No wildly pitching boats. No showers of ocean spray (or worse) from upwind. I would like to describe two places not difficult to reach from Southern California that offered this enjoyable opportunity to my wife Lynn and me this past summer.

Kauai: Kilauaea Lighthouse
This National Wildlife Refuge on the northeast coast of Kauai offers gorgeous vistas of sparkling blue waters, coniferous forests on the hillsides, an offshore island, and cliffs and caves along the coast. It also hosts a tremendous breeding colony of red-footed boobies. The headland area on which the lighthouse is located is only open until 4:00 p.m., but there is a parking area outside the gate that offers excellent views of the birds after hours. We visited the area three times in late May and early June.

In addition to the boobies, the great frigatebird is easy to see. At noon one day, from the lighthouse area, we saw several white-tailed tropicbirds, and six red-tailed tropicbirds simultaneously. If one is a bit more patient, one will also see Laysan albatross, perhaps especially toward the end of the day. From the parking area outside the park after hours, we saw (behind us) a short-eared owl hunting. (The owls and white-tailed tropicbirds also were in evidence soaring high above the spectacular Waimea Canyon—the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific"— far inland on Kauai.) After hours we also saw six nene, the endangered Hawaiian goose, waddling around the grounds of the lighthouse itself.

It was a thrill to see all of these birds, but without doubt the greatest thrill came from a less spectacular looking but more elusive, bird—the wedge-tailed shearwater. These shearwaters breed at the lighthouse, but depart at dawn and return only at dusk. I had seen tiny specks cruising above the waves far out to sea, but had not had one of those definitive views one would like to have, so we returned to the lighthouse early one evening. The specks were getting only a little closer, and the mosquitoes were coming out, and so we reluctantly departed for dinner. The north coast of Kauai is not the most economical place to get a dinner, though, and after realizing that we would have to pay about $35 for mediocre Mexican food, I persuaded Lynn that we should take one more look at the lighthouse. It was 7:30 p.m. As we arrived at the parking area, overhead I saw a bird banking wildly in the wind, its tail flared and its landing gear down—a wedge-tailed shearwater! Over the next few minutes, several more of these aerial daredevils came in close, even directly overhead behind us, offering spectacular views in the fading light.

For the birder, Kauai offers other opportunities. Kauai is very typical of the tropical Pacific islands I have seen—totally overwhelmed by introduced species. (It is easier to see a Java sparrow there than on Java, and common myna are ubiquitous.) However, at the Puu O Kila Lookout at the top of

Cape Flattery, Washington
If you find yourself in the Seattle area, I strongly recommend that you visit the Olympic Peninsula. Its’ Cape Flattery, on the Makah Indian reservation, is not only the northwesternmost point in the original 48 states, but a great spot to see alcids. Incidentally, it also has the sparkling blue waters, evergreen forested hillsides, offshore islands and spectacular cliffs and caves. We visited in late morning in the middle of July and lingered more than an hour.

To find your way to the reservation, the visitor’s map for Olympic National Park shows the necessary detail. On the reservation itself, there are occasional signs with binoculars on them to follow. After subjecting one’s (rented!) car to a rutted dirt road for about four miles, one comes to a parking area. From there it is a quarter mile walk down a well-maintained trail to the headland, where several very safe boardwalks and viewing platforms have been established.

The species that one really drives all that way to see is the tufted puffin. We saw about 50, many at incredibly close range: it is the most numerous alcid species there. (If anyone knows a spot on the mainland closer to Southern California where puffins can be seen regularly, I invite them to stop hoarding the information and share it with the rest of us!) We had spectacular views of the birds diving for fish below us. Also impossible to miss were pigeon guillemot and common murre. We lingered a bit, and soon there were great opportunities to study motionless rhinoceros auklets up close. A sea otter then appeared, eating a spiny red sea urchin along the way. At an island farther offshore, about 20 sea lions basked in the sun. On the rocks below us, we spotted a black oystercatcher, and in the trees overhead a bald eagle.

The ecosystem at the Cape appears very healthy: there was no evidence of an oil spill of several years ago. Indeed, the puffins seemed more numerous than on a previous visit I had made some years ago.

The Hurricane Ridge area and Hoh Rain Forest at Olympic National Park are certainly worth visits as well, not only for the birds. It will be impossible for me to see a male varied thrush better than the one I saw along the road at the Hoh Rain Forest, unless one lands in my hand!. The trail up to Hurricane Hill from the Hurricane Ridge Visitor’s Center offers glorious alpine vistas, along with black bears, blue grouse and other animals.

Steve Marks is a long-time birder and Audubon member. He is a professor of economics at Pomona College, and has chaired their International Relations Program. He is currently spending a year in Indonesia consulting for the Ministry of Trade.