Pelagic Birding in Tumaco, Colombia
Our host Chris is always looking for new ways to grow his Colombia life list, so imagine his excitement when the chance to join a pelagic birding adventure arose. Here’s his account of that exciting trip 50 km into the open Pacific Ocean in search of rare seabirds.
Birding in Colombia offers almost unlimited scope for exploration and adding new species to your life list. With nearly 2,000 species recorded in the country, it's safe to say that a Colombia lister could spend practically a lifetime exploring hidden ravines, forgotten corners of rainforest, and lonely mountain peaks and still not get close to ticking off all the diverse avian life found here.
However, it's always a challenge for those with extensive Colombia life lists to dream up new destinations that offer the most "bang for our buck" in new species. Until this weekend, my Colombia life list sat at a highly respectable 1,393 species observed, placing me squarely in the Top 20 for Colombia on eBird. My challenge is that I've birded all over Colombia, so my target bird list is complicated: there are almost no locations where I can get loads of lifers in a single trip; I need a few species from everywhere!
There are still plenty more terrestrial bird species for me to see in Colombia, but I'd long been intrigued by the idea of a pelagic birding adventure in Colombia. It seemed a surefire way of adding some new species to my life list while also spotting birds that very few other people have seen in the country. I've generally observed that Colombian birders are less enthused by seabirds and waders: why pay too much attention to those hard-to-ID species when your country is home to 1500+ spectacular land birds?! However, as a British birder - where many of our best birds live on the coastline - I have a bit of a penchant for those species and never miss a chance to see them in Colombia.
Thankfully, some friends in the southern Colombian department of Nariño had the same idea as me, and I got a call in June about joining a pelagic trip from Tumaco on the Pacific coast the next month. I didn't even need to hear the details before I answered: an emphatic and resounding "yes!"
The plan was to depart on a medium-sized fishing boat from Tumaco at 2:30 am and head 50 km (30 miles) out into the open ocean to the Tumaco Bank. We stood a good chance of encountering interesting ocean-going bird species on this underwater plateau. The captain had purchased fish oil and a barrel of miscellaneous fish parts to attract the birds, and we had high hopes of adding some notable species to our Colombia lists.
After a lazy Saturday birding the beaches of Tumaco, where we were lucky enough to spot a vagrant Inca Tern (one of the first continental records for Colombia), I dropped a Dramamine tablet and hit the sack nice and early in preparation for the next day's adventure. My alarm sounded at 1:30 am, and we headed down to the docks, bleary-eyed.
The first four hours of the trip passed in a sleepy blur as I dozed on a mattress on the open front deck. The boat was laboring against a strong current, and it took longer than anticipated to reach the bank. However, as the sun began to rise, we started seeing the first indications of marine life: humpback whales spouted and breached on the horizon, and a solitary Sooty Tern perched on some floating debris gave us our first big lifer of the trip.
Pretty soon, the true seabirds started to show themselves. The first big rush of excitement came with a stunning Parkinson's Petrel, expertly quartering across the boat's bow, prompting audible awe from everyone on board. Suddenly a pair of Wedge-tailed Shearwaters came into view, and we spent a good 15 minutes admiring their remarkable flying abilities. These birds spend practically their entire lives on the wing, and many are so well adapted to flying over the open ocean that they spend less energy in flight than paddling on the sea. Colombian birders may not typically be too interested in seabirds, but for me, they remain some of the planet's most fascinating winged inhabitants.
A large pod of Pantropical Spotted Dolphins brought us our next big surprise, as they were joined by groups of feeding Wedge-rumped Storm Petrels and a solitary Pink-footed Shearwater, along with more Wedge-tailed Shearwaters. Another Parkinson's Petrel sat in the water near the boat, affording us jaw-dropping views. What a bird!
At this point, we filled a bottle with fish oil, pricked a few holes in the bottom with a fishing hook, and left it hanging off the back of the boat. The resulting fish oil slick immediately brought in the storm-petrels for a closer look. Despite scanning every individual's white rumps, we could not pick out any Band-rumped Storm-Petrels but enjoyed incredible views of close-up Wedge-rumps.
We continued to move north to south and back along the line of the bank, often going long periods without seeing much besides the ubiquitous Magnificent Frigatebirds, which we tempted in for a closer look with chunks of fish.
Eventually, a shout from the back of the boat alerted us that a different type of storm-petrel had arrived at the oil slick. A much larger, black storm petrel with a direct, nighthawk-like flight was powering its way between the waves. Much study and a few photographs later, we deduced that it was a Black Storm-Petrel, an excellent record for Colombia. A second individual soon joined it, and we enjoyed wonderful views of the species over the following hours.
Suddenly we spotted a tiny bird bobbing in the waves, looking entirely incongruous against the endless backdrop of the open ocean: a handsome Red-necked Phalarope. It's hard to believe that these delicate little birds migrate so far offshore, but here it was, and we spotted a second not long after.
As we began to return to shore, we were joined by a pair of Brown Boobies and a solitary Nazca Booby, another lifer and brilliant record for Colombia. However, the final big surprise of the day, and the real cherry on the cake, was a stunning Red-billed Tropicbird that flew over the boat, heading out towards the bank—what a way to end an unforgettable day of pelagic birding.
At this point, "disaster" struck when our boat broke down. We were still 45 km from shore and outside phone or radio contact. The only choice was for the small boat accompanying us to tow us closer to shore. After about three hours, during which we moved no more than 10 km, we got closer enough to call a friend of the captain to send help and a new motor! The birders headed back on the smaller boat, still a long way to go.
Eventually, after a further four hours of navigation in the dark, the slipstream of the boat lit up by the twinkling green lights of tiny bioluminescent plankton, we made it back to Tumaco. My Colombia life list was now sitting at 1,403 species; my goal for 2022 achieved with almost half the year to spare.
Twenty hours on the open ocean, nine excellent lifers, whales and dolphins, a few seasick birders, and a hell of an adventure: that's pelagic birding in Colombia. I can't wait to go back and see what other surprises there are to be found out there in the deep!