January 29, 1976 - Birds Become Prisoners of IceThe Suffolk Times
Birds Become Prisoners Of
Ice
January 29, 1976
OLDSQUAW DUCKS, male and female, are seen above flying over our winter bays. They
are noisy callers, so listen for them on the next quiet day and be introduced to one of nature's
truly wild yodeling calls.
drawing by Dennis Puleston
Our recent storm has had a lot
of coverage and its remains will
linger along our snow fences for
weeks. We will all remember our
January snow with its mind and
bitter cold Yet Ill remember it
in a different w2y A sad way. I'm
afraid. for I refer to the steadv
freezing arcs of our bays and
creeks Wba: hardships the
animals and birds of our great
outdoors endured during these
times of stress.
The "ely swan who gleans
the bottoms of our creeks for food
is heipiess when the ice starts to
chase in around him. Like a giant
vwe it gets tighter and tighter —
his feeding area smaller and
smaller. This is the real predator
'hat lurks in our winter's
backyard. We can do little to
discourage it. Many times the
birds perish because of lack of
food, but more often their last -
ditch stand is when they seek out
some open water, a swift current,
or a warm underground spring
that saves them.
It was gratifying to see down in
New Suffolk a stranded pair of
swans being kept alive in the
creek by a spot of open water.
and it was even more gratifying
to see corn on the nearby ice that
some thoughtful person had
thrown to them. I'm sure these
two gifts —open water and a
handful of corn —will be enough
to see them through this perilous
period. For just as soon as the
water opens and shallow water
for feeding becomes available
again they'll be set free.
Ducks are different than our
swans. Here the natural instinct
is to get up and get out to open
water, or better yet, fly south.
Swans are not native and I'm
afraid have become dependent in
a large part on man. This has its
drawbacks, like the person who
starts feeding wild birds and
stops when he wants to go to
Florida It's then the birds starve
or at best have a difficult time
fending for themselves.
The exception to this theory of
ducks haying the ability to get up
and get out is when they become
incapable of flying This happens
many %me during and after
hunting season A case in point
was art Oldsquaw duck, or as the
oldtimers called them
"Longtails ". that was crippled
and captured in the closing ice of
our West Creek in Cutchogue.
I photographed this duck in his
prison. A more beautiful com-
bination of blacks, whites and
grays would be hard to find The
only actual color is the pinkish
bill. Seeing this bird a captive in
its ice - rimmed cell was like
seeing a tiger in a cage, for the
Oldsquaw is a fun-loving wild-
flying gallant bird of the ice and
snow. This duck comes from the
far north and winters al along
the eastern seaboard One can
always tell when the Oldsquaws
are in the bay by their call. they
are one of the most loquacious of
all our ducks Their continual
yodeling "ow.owly, ow-owly, ow-owly
is a joy of the wild. Ask any
bayman and he'll tell you. Ask
him also about their antics. How
they fly along and literally dash
into the water in frolic and play.
throwing huge sprays against the
sun. These antics increase as
spring and the mating season
approach and are carried on all
the way to such far - sounding
areas as Labrador, Hudson Bay,
Greenland and all the great
stretches of the north. It is here
they mate and bring up their
young.
Those who gain their livelihood
from the water can also tell you
of the Oldsquaw's superior diving
ability. It's been said by
fishermen that '-Squaws" have
been caught in their nets at 30
fathoms (180 feet below the
surface. We usually think of them
in much shallower areas, like our
bays. The one I mentioned earlier
that I photographed could be seen
from above. from a bulkhead, as
he swam some 40 feet along
under the ice from post to post,
feeding on the limited food
supply, only to return and surface
back to his icy prison cell.
Mane years ago. when I was
much younger. I can remember
great flocks of these ducks flying
back and forth from the Sound to
the Bay each night. Seems they
would feed all day in our bays and
go over into the Sound for the
night. Toda} these huge flocks
are all gone and we see mere
smatterings of small groups here
and there. On our New York State
Waterfowl Count in January,
taken here on the East End, we
counted only 66 Oldsquaws from
Orient to Peconic. These figures,
I'm sure, are low, as our Count
Day came during one of our early
snows.
In my last article I spoke of
Roy Latham —that great
naturalist out in Orient —and I
want to share with you one of his
early bird trips relayed to me
recently. Seems around 1907 he
and his brother took off in a
rowboat to do the first Christmas
Count on Gardiner's Island. How
times have changed! Today a
powerful diesel is used to make
this precarious trip to the Island
in the winter and then only
weather permitting.
Yes, I said they rowed to
Gardiners Island 10 miles away.
As he tells it, it was a clear, still
morning when they left, but not
for long For being their own
weather forecasters. like today's,
the}' sometimes misjudged. And
so. by late afternoon the winter
wind built up out of the northwest
and the temperature started to
fall. To quote Mr. Latham.
"Rowing back over the bay in
high waves and gale wind that
day was out of the question.
especially with the approaching
darkness of a winter night in the
face of a cold wave. We located a
shack used by the commercial
fishermen during the fishing
season, with the key hanging on
the door, where we passed the
night. There was a small wood
cookstove in the shack and we
burned wood all night to keep
warm. The first thing we saw,
from the window, in the morning,
was a magnificent adult bald
eagle standing on the shore of
Boswick Pond, only 100 feet from
the cabin. The bald eagle was a
permanent resident of the Island
at that time and nested on the
north side of the Tobacco Lot
Pond. The temperature had
dropped overnight to 16 degrees,
with a sharp northly wind. as we
started the long row back to
Orient."
And so that was what men were
made of in those days and it is
that kind of inspiration that sends
many of us out into the cold today
to count birds and ducks to
become part of this fascinating
world. In our own humble way.
perhaps we are trying to mimic
the ways of the great and add our
small bit to keep that spirit alive.