Gene,

I would like to second Paul O'Brien's comments on the enormous value of your work on Hart-Miller. Your efforts produce one of the best series of bird data of any site in Maryland. If all birding sites were this well monitored we would have our list of Important Bird Areas for the state completed at one session at the computer! And the data should yield real conservation results at the island.

So, as Paul said, take a break and miss the odd survey when conditions look dodgy so you don't burn out (or burn up!). 

Thanks for all your efforts!

Dave

David Curson, PhD
Director of Bird Conservation,
Audubon MD-DC,
2437 Eastern Avenue,
Baltimore  MD  21224
Tel: (410) 558 2473
E-mail: 





-----Original Message-----
From: Maryland Birds & Birding [mailto:[log in to unmask]]On
Behalf Of Eugene J. Scarpulla
Sent: Monday, July 18, 2005 7:22 PM
To: 
Subject: [MDOSPREY] Hart-Miller Island: A Reflection


I know that friends and family have often thought that I was a bit 
unbalanced to visit Hart-Miller Island year-round for 10 hours almost every 
Saturday.  This past Saturday, I began to question my own sanity.

Originally, there were three of us who were planning to go to the Island on 
Saturday.  The other two had a weather reality check on Friday evening and 
decided to cancel out --- but not me.  I have been on many of the legendary 
summer "death marches" around Hart-Miller Island.  The worst one I can 
remember was over 100 degrees Fahrenheit and had most of the birder's 
dropping  out along the way to return to the air-conditioned comfort of the 
administration building.  That day, I remember that Rick Blom, Sue 
Ricciardi, Bob Dixon, and I jumped into the Bay at the north end of the 
remnant of old Miller Island to keep from getting heatstroke.

So what if more rational heads had cancelled out for last Saturday, I was 
determined to go to Hart-Miller since fall shorebirds were probably 
arriving.  When I walked out of my house Saturday morning, I crashed into a 
wall of humidity.  Undeterred, I climbed into the car and drove to the boat 
dock.  With the windows open, the drive was pleasant, as was the boat ride 
to the island.  Once on the island, the horrendous "H"s became very 
apparent:
HAZY
HOT
HUMID
HARDLY any breeze
HATCHES of tiger mosquitoes
HEARING distant thunder
Still undeterred, I began the survey.  It had rained the night before, and 
the vegetation on the island was drenched.  Before entering the chest-high 
vegetation of the South Cell, I slipped on Gore-Tex rain pants and duck 
boots.  This is NOT appropriate apparel for hot, humid weather.  While the 
rain pants did keep me dry from the vegetation, the sweat factor was 
increased dramatically.  The non-waterproof duck boots offered little 
protection --- resulting in wet feet.  I tried to cover up as much skin 
surface as possible, but the mosquitoes were undeterred as well.  They bit 
right through my two shirts.

After completing the South Cell, I headed to the North Cell dike to begin 
the survey there.  I could finally take off the rain pants.  At this point, 
the thunder was pretty consistent but still distant over the mainland.  Did 
I mention that I was undeterred?  I started walking north on the upper dike 
keeping an ever vigilant ear for thunder and an eye for lightning.  In spite 
of the heat and humidity, I managed to reach the northeast corner of the 
island and count the majority of the birds in the North Cell.  It was at 
this point that the thunder began occurring above me in the clouds.  I was 
at the halfway point of the island --- should I continue ahead and hike 
three more miles around the island and eventually reach the boat dock (the 
undeterred me) or should I turn back and retrace two miles back to the 
administration building (the common sense me)?  The thunder was getting 
louder and I came to the realization that I was the highest point on the 
North Cell dike carrying a 5-foot aluminum Bogen/Kowa lightning rod.  For 
the first time of the day, common sense prevailed.  I decided to fold up the 
tripod, retreat to the lower perimeter road of the island, and head back to 
the building.  There was no breeze on the lower road, and I was loosing 
pounds from profuse sweating while trying to walk briskly back to the 
building.  After about one mile, I knew that I should rest for a few 
minutes.  I could feel that I was overly overheated and my clothing was 
drenched.  It was at this point that I finally questioned my sanity.  I 
asked myself "Scarp are you nuts for being out here in these conditions?"  I 
had an epiphany --- I think I MAY be nuts.

Upon my arrival back at the administration building, I walked into the 
employees' break room and was asked "Is it pouring rain outside or is that 
sweat?"  You know the answer.  After being in the building a few minutes, 
the storm finally hit the island with copious rain, lightning, and thunder. 
All I could think about was what conditions I would have been in if I had 
decided to continue around the island at the halfway point.  The alternative 
was not very appealing.

Oh well, there is always next Saturday.  George are you canceling out on me 
on Friday evening?  If you do, convince me to cancel also.

Your man on Hart-Miller,
Gene

Gene Scarpulla
Millers Island, Maryland