Of Missiles and Mangroves: Part III (Goin' on a Rail Hunt)

Remember all those practical jokes you heard about as a kid that sent people on "snipe hunts" into the darkening woods at twilight? Well, there really is such a thing as a snipe, and they really are nearly impossible to catch, especially with a camera! They hide in ditches and forage along the edges of tall reeds and grasses and fly up with a burst of speed, if they hear you approaching, before you even know they are there.

Well, the black rail is even more elusive, living deep within tall marshy grasses, preferring to walk or run and rarely taking flight unless you nearly step on one. And they are rare. In fact, these birds are so rarely seen, it is one of very few birds that can be checked off your life list by sound alone. The black rail is the smallest North American rail, measuring about the size of a sparrow.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

On Wednesday, Jan 26, 2011, a group of twenty-four intrepid birders headed into the restricted St. Johns National Wildlife Refuge in hopes of "hearing" a black rail. The group was led by MINWR biologist Mike Legare, who has been conducting research on the area's small population and has been instrumental in protecting the salt marsh area in which they live. We were driven into the marsh on a trailer loaded with hay bales about one hour before sunset.

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
At the appointed hour (apparently, there is a 10-15 minute window during which the rails may be enticed into calling), Legare began playing his tapes. Since this was not mating season and they were not aggressively defending territory, getting a black rail to call meant getting them to express interest in what strangers might be hanging around. We wandered up, down, back and forth along a very wet path, stopping occasionally to listen, very quietly, for a rail to respond. Upon hearing a single, distant response, Mike stepped off the path and into the tall marsh grass; come on, if you like, he said, and off we went into the marsh. We stumbled along in tall, wet, grass, unable to see where we were putting our feet down (it's getting dark at this point, mind you), some people losing their balance and falling, and most of us stepping into pools of shin deep water! Were there snakes there, in that grass? Nobody asked.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
By the time the sun sank below the horizon, we had heard a response from at least four rails in the area, watched a gray ghost (male northern harrier) hunting along the distant palmetto stands, and filled our boots and shoes with at least an inch of water. (Thanks, Mike, for getting us "cut off" from the path!)
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Back at the trailer as darkness descended, we wrung the water out of our shoes and socks and trailered back to the parking lot with the black rail added to our life lists.
 
This is a field trip you should not miss, if you ever have the opportunity. Legare says that the black rails in this area seem to be declining in numbers, despite constant monitoring and control of their habitat (which includes controlled burns designed to keep taller scrub from invading the area.) Currently, there are fewer than 20 known nesting areas for this bird in Florida and it is listed as endangered or threatened in at least five of the eleven states in which it breeds.
 
Hopefully, the national wildlife service will be able to continue monitoring and protecting habitat for all our endangered, threatened, and declining species, not just the black rail!