Where’s Woodcock?
Note: This is one of the first stories I had published as an outdoors writer back in May 2011. Since then, Roger Masse has gone on to successfully complete his doctoral degree.
“Mr. Big-eyes.” That’s the nickname the 1917 volume Birds of America gave this evening’s quarry. Such whimsical monikers may be frowned upon in today’s no-nonsense field guides, but somehow the title fits the tiny bird that URI PhD candidate Roger Masse is after. Its length is eleven inches, but that includes an almost ridiculously long beak topped by, yes, big eyes designed to watch for predators. But although they may have oversized eyes to improve their vision, human eyes might have much more difficulty spotting this diminutive bird. “Most people will go their whole lives without seeing one,” says Masse. “Even with telemetry (radio signals from tagged birds), you can be five feet away from a bird and still not see it.”
On this clear twilight in spring, woodcock have descended upon a large open stretch of the Big River Management Area in Coventry to see and be seen in their courtship rituals, and ornithologists from URI will attempt to capture the tiny upland bird. Dr. Peter Paton, head of the Natural Resources Science department, and Dr. Scott McWilliams, professor of Wildlife Ecology and Physiology will join two volunteers and Masse in an attempt to measure, band, and place a radio monitoring device, called a nanotag, on the bird. In the golden glow of the setting sun, the six of us set up three capture areas distributed around the many acres, and take our places to wait for the display to begin. It is one commented upon in older guides:
“Some of our birds are enveiled in mystery and the Woodcock is not the least strange of this coterie. It often lives where its presence is unsuspected. One of the best Woodcock covers I have known was within the limits of the city of Brooklyn.”
In the hundred or more years that have elapsed since that entry in Birds of America was written, it’s probably safe to assume that woodcock have departed the city of Brooklyn. Today, woodcock are found in new growth areas: wide stretches of land with tall tufts of grass and shrubs to provide cover as needed, but plenty of open ground and air space to allow it to make both a feathered and flight display, signaling the health (and therefore desirability) of the bird. One of the goals of woodcock monitoring is to make a case for the importance of land management: the one-time farms that comprise many wildlife management areas have often been left to grow to forests. Masse’s research may support the movement to provide clear cut areas to allow new growth, in order to encourage a greater diversity of birds like woodcock and other creatures.
Masse’s scouting of this area from the night before allows for surprisingly specific placement of the capture nets. He has marked locations where woodcock were displaying with surveyors’ tape. Males are drawn to the same display location throughout the mating season; the hope for tonight is that the same will hold true.
Sitting amid the three-foot tufts of last year’s grasses that provide cover for the birds, 26-year-old Roger Masse says he chose the woodcock as his focus nearly by accident. “I had lived in several regions as I did my schooling. I’d heard URI was offering a PhD opportunity and the chance to study woodcock came up. I’m interested in many species, and I thought, ‘Woodcock, that would be a cool species to understand.’ Growing up, I would fish and hunt, and until now I had never worked with a game bird. It would be interesting to work with a bird that has relevance to a number of user groups.” Masse had overseen the tagging of 47 birds so far this season, and his hope was to make the score an even 50 tonight.
In a short time, we hear the distinctive peent peent of a courting male. The call comes from roughly 100 feet from where we are. The birds are swift flyers, and sound, rather than sight, is the first indication that we have a visitor. Masse directs me to stand at one corner of the area, while he moves 50 yards away to another sector. The hope is that, by slowly working our way forward, we will flush the bird into the net.
Suddenly, the tall, Masse’s lanky figure takes off at full speed toward the net. At first it’s impossible to see what he’s after, but this soon becomes clear: there is a woodcock tangled in the net. Masse puts a small flashlight in his mouth as he deftly frees the bird. The nets are made of a thin, black material designed to flex easily. Any bird flying into it becomes hopelessly, though safely, entangled. The duration of the tangle may not last long, which accounts for Masse’s sudden burst of speed. He deposits the bird in a cloth drawstring bag, and places the bustling cargo on the branch of a tree as we return to our vantage point.
A short while later, Masse radios the other groups and hears that their night has been similarly profitable. We retrieve our feathered bundle and rendezvous in a central area to begin the process of recording data. One bird is a recapture of a tagged woodcock from earlier this season, and is quickly released. The rest will provide the conclusion to the tagging portion of Masse’s research for this season, with a total of 50 captures.
After taking a variety of measurements, McWilliams gently pulls aside a patch of feathers covering the bird’s back. Masse puts a dab of special glue onto the skin and places the nanotag on its back. The transmitter contains a hair-thin antenna, and is secured with a band that wraps around the belly of the bird. While it looks like an awkward load, Masse is certain the bird’s flight will be uninhibited. “Woodcock have been recaptured after migrating all the way to Louisiana and back up north, so the weight is not a problem for their migration or their aerobatics (which are another part of their courtship display).”
Before releasing the bird, Masse checks that the transmitter is working by passing it over a radio receiver. The beeping sound it makes assures him that everything is ready to go. The transmitter typically lasts between one and two hundred days. During that period, scientists will trace the movement of the birds using telemetry. All of this information will guide decisions made regarding forestry management, and its best use to support a wide variety of bird and mammal life.
After the process ends for the last bird of the evening, I’m given the privilege of releasing a woodcock. I walk a hundred feet away from the group, gently holding the small, warm bird. I squat to the ground and carefully open my hands. The woodcock hops out and hesitates a moment to gather its bearings before quickly fluttering off to a nearby sapling.
Seconds later, it is gone, back into the night and cover of the forest until its next open field display. Now, however, it will have a tale to tell those who seek to ensure that, unlike in Brooklyn, the woodcock will have a local courting ground for years to come.