Recent News

Count me in. please. ©Tom Fake

November 22, 2024

December 1st starts this winter’s annual kolea count. On this site’s contact tab, please tell me where you want to count and I’ll sign you up. I created these counting sites from maps but you can count anywhere you live, work, or walk. I enjoy driving to new places to count kōlea. It gives me mini-outings on my own island.

This kōlea seems to be leading a parade of ʻakekeke, or ruddy turnstones. The species often forage together. Puʻuiki Cemetery in Waialua is one of the places I count. ©Susan Scott

Although our plovers have been arriving in Hawaiʻi since August, we start the count in December to give the summer’s offspring time to get settled and get counted.

Chicks hatched on the Alaska tundra in late June/early July forage for insects and berries there as long as weather permits, sometimes as late as November. When the snows fall, the kids head south. Alone. How kōlea and other migratory shorebirds find Hawaiʻi, or any other Pacific Islands, is one of nature’s miracles.

A newly hatched kōlea chick in Alaska. Legs are adult-sized at hatching.  ©Wally Johnson

Shorebird parents don’t feed their chicks but follow the youngsters as they forage. Parents sit on their chicks to warm them when weather turns stormy. ©Wally Johnson

Not all offspring survive the journey, and some that do run into trouble when they land in a territory established by an adult. Young birds that find their own space, and make it through the winter are hardy survivors. E komo mai, kids.

When this young plover (left) trespassed on another’s patch, the established owner put up a fight. The squabble occurred in Punchbowl Cemetery. The newcomer moved on. (First year birds have no breeding colors.) ©Susan Scott

You can’t do this wrong. Besides helping gather data about the birds, counting kōlea gives us special moments to appreciate the marvel we call kōlea.

Four kōlea: From left, the new kōlea-in-tuxedo flag, mascot Kōlea Nui, volunteer Andres Jojoa Ortega in his EVERY KŌLEA COUNTS T-shirt, and lower right, a curious resident kōlea checking out its namesakes. © Christiaan Phleger

October 16, 2024

What if we throw a party and no one comes? That was my worry when we Hawaiʻi Audubon Society board members decided in September to have a kōlea festival in October.

Because August marks the height of enthusiasm over our Pacific Golden-Plovers’ arrivals, I thought October might be too late for celebrating the birds’ return. My other concern was short lead time. Someone had to get a park permit, gather volunteers, make flyers, create activities, order flags, and transport tents, tables and gear.  And after arranging all that, we then had to get the word out to kōlea fans to join us.

Well, someone did all that and more. Hawaiʻi Audubon’s new Outreach and Education Manager, Elena Arinaga (below), planned, organized, and advertised the “Welcome Home Kōlea Festival” so successfully we’re calling it the first annual kōlea party.

Hawaiʻi Audubon’s Team Kōlea: Foreground from left, Operations Manager Laura Doucette, me, mascot Kōlea Nui, and Education Manager, Elena Arinaga. Left background are Taylor Kim and Charlotte Bender, two of four Kapiolani Community College students who helped with the festival. 

Everyone loved Kōlea Nui, the guest of honor at the festival. Kailua artist, Kathe James, of “Events in Apparel,” custom-made the outstanding costume for Hawaiʻi Audubon.  ©Susan Scott

MJ Mazurek gives Kōlea Nui (AKA Josh Fisher) a cold drink of water. Even with an ice-pack vest and a head fan, hugging and dancing with children is hot work. Volunteers took turns wearing the costume. ©Susan Scott

Representatives of the new drink, Kōlea Sparkling Hop Water, (zero alcohol, zero calories) shared the Kōlea Festival with us. Everyone enjoyed the free samples, as well as the company’s logo. ©Susan Scott

As to my fretting over dates and details, silly me. Hawaiʻi’s plover lovers are as remarkable as the birds themselves.

This sign demanded a photo stop during a Hilo visit last year. The kōlea (upper left image on sign) is apparently the Chiefess Kapiʻolani Elementary School’s mascot. ©Wendy Kuntz

August 12, 2024

One of the kōlea I visit on my winter morning walks returned on Saturday, August 10th. I call the bird Bougie because he forages in a field behind a row of bougainvillea bushes (below) spaced apart enough for me to peek through without getting punctured

“Welcome home, my friend,” I whispered, feeling teary as I watched the bird run-and-peck, run-and-peck.  “You did it.”

Bougie has returned to this space off Crozier Drive in Waialua for at least five years.  (Zebra dove in foreground.) Our phone cameras may not take the best distance photos, but they’re in our pockets to capture the moment.

After seeing kōlea in Alaska in June, their miracle of migration moves me more than ever. To know that this little bird just flew 3,000 miles, nonstop, in three days, well, then some things in the world are right and good.

From Wally Johnson’s tracking studies. © O.W. Johnson

I’m not the only one to have my spirits lifted by a bird. As of this writing, kolea fans have reported 288 returns on the kōlea count website. (I have to continually increase that number as I write this.) Thank you for reporting your birds’ returns on the site’s REPORT tab and for sharing comments and photos.  Below are a few, among many, that make me smile:

• “First one to come back home! So happy to see my little friend! Kinda skinny, but looks good overall. So happy!!!”
• “Our friend is back!”
• “Riding in the NaWahine triathlon saw this Kolea on Kahala Avenue & filled me with new energy! Made me happy.”
• “After filling up my car at Sam’s Club gas station, I looked up to see my first returned plover of the year. I felt good!”
• “Saw my first Kolea at Maunawili Elementary on Aug 1st. So excited!!!”

July 25, 2024, Oahu, undisclosed location) © Ann Egleston

August 9, 2024, Kamehameha soccer field, Hilo ©Jo-Ann Garrigan

July 25, Niu Valley,  © Patricia Johnson

August 2, Hilo Public Library, © Jo-Ann Garrigan

August 6, Kuahelani Park, Mililani © Tempe Kapela

July 30, Waiau district Park, © Evelyn Nakanishi

I get it. The plover-return season makes me feel good too, from seeing the birds themselves to hearing from other people who also love them.

On Saturday, my happy feeling even extended to cats, unusual for me given a cat allergy, as …

A kōlea on the Nome tundra. ©Susan Scott

July 8, 2024

Hawaiʻi walks are always good, but not quite as good from May through July, when our kōlea are in Alaska. We plover lovers feel the birds’ absence, and often wonder how they’re doing with their summer job of chick-rearing.

Some of us went to see for ourselves From June 24-28, the Hawaiʻi Audubon Society  sponsored its second Kōlea Quest trip to Nome. And once again, we had the privilege of accompanying world plover authority, Dr. O. Wally Johnson, and his two research associates from Anchorage. (Photo below. Wally, brown coat, in center.)

©Laura Doucette

For Hawaiʻi residents accustomed to friendly kōlea that prance around our backyards and eat scrambled eggs on our lanais, Alaska kōlea hold a surprise: While breeding, the birds view humans as predators, up there with foxes, ravens, jaegers, and all the other Arctic animals hunting for food. With predators on the prowl for nutritious eggs and chicks, the lives of plovers, and all ground-nesting birds on the tundra, are filled with life-and-death drama. Camouflage, hunkering down, and holding motionlessness are keys to survival, making finding even one kōlea nest a challenge.

Wally’s long-time field workers, Paul and Nancy Brusseau, scouting for kōlea. ©Susan Scott

Members of our group looking for birds. ©Susan Scott

But we were there with the experts. Over several days, the experienced researchers found three plover nests with eggs. Photos below. (O.W. Johnson USGS research permit #20957.)

©Susan Scott

©Susan Scott

And on our last day, one of those nests produced the thrill of a lifetime for kōlea fans: two new hatchings and one pipping (and peeping) egg. The first tiny hatchling was already running around the nest.

©Laura Doucette

Like chickens, kōlea parents don’t feed their offspring. As soon as hatchlings’ downy feathers are dry, the kids are out and about, foraging for insects and berries. Parents follow the best they can, warming and protecting the chicks as needed.

Wally posed this question: If we tall humans have a hard time finding a nest, how do little birds do it? This photo, taken by me on my belly, as Wally suggested, is a kōlea-eye view of the tundra. ©Susan Scott

In this bug-filled, light-all-night environment, chicks grow up fast. In one month, baby plovers can fly. Parents fly south in August, leaving their offspring on the tundra to fatten up as long as food is available. That can last into October, or even November, depending on weather. When snow falls, the summer’s chicks migrate to warm wintering grounds, instinct being their only guide.

This was the Hawaiʻi Audubon Society’s second trip to Nome with Wally, his study partners, …

April 29, 2024

Thanks to Hawaiʻi’s residents and visitors who care about the remarkable migratory shorebirds we call kōlea, the Kōlea Count project had another season loaded with information. And that’s the point. As we kōlea watchers report what, when, and where we see our plovers in the Islands, we learn more about the birds as well as the people who love them.

Besides learning new things, kōlea help us to make new friends. Plover fan Roger Kobayashi (right) hosts me several times a year at Ford Island (a contractor working there took this photo of us) and Tripler Army Medical Center to watch kōlea gather. On Saturday, only 6 birds remained, a gradual decrease from a high of 110.

Some of what we learn in Kōlea Count is natural science, such as the dates the birds come and go in Hawaiʻi. Other details are social, such as the relationships Hawaiʻi people have with the birds. Last year during Hawaiʻi Audubon Society’s Alaska visit, Nome residents were astonished to hear that our plovers are on friendly terms with us. Another reason our kōlea are special.

This kōlea learned to eat mealworms from the home owner’s hand. The bird returned to the man’s Kailua yard for 15 years.

Bottom line: It’s all good. You can’t do it wrong.

If you feed your bird, please offer high protein food, such as worms or scrambled egg. This is my Jake, at least eight years old, eating his egg. His last day on my lanai was April 20th. 

As for the state’s estimated plover population, several volunteers are currently analyzing our counts, along with eBird reports. I’ll share the resulting maps and charts when they’re available. In the meantime, below are some arrival data we know from your reports.

Starting in late July, 486 plover lovers entered the date they saw their first kolea return from Alaska. Report numbers ranged from one bird to 56 individuals at Tripler Army Medical Center. UHM graduate student, Claire Atkins, created the below graphs using that arrival data.

Most of our plovers have departed but a few are still here. I’ll share reported departure dates the end of May. Please report birds you see in June in the SUMMERING-OVER tab. July starts a new season when the earliest kōlea return.

I read and enjoy all your kōlea stories. (Forty people, for instance, named their bird. My favorite name this year: Get chance.)

Thank you for your patience as we continue working on …

Kōlea gathering at a Ford Island field. ©Susan Scott

April 14, 2024

Yesterday a friend and I spent a pleasant hour on Ford Island sitting in lawn chairs while staring at 38 dots in a dry grassy field. Then we packed up, drove to Tripler Army Medical Center and spent another hour staring at a similar bunch of dots in another grassy field.

This might not sound exciting, but for us kōlea fans, we were whooping it up. It’s April. Time to watch the plovers party.

Roger Kobayashi unfolds chairs for our kōlea watch. ©Susan Scott

Okay, the birds aren’t exactly partying. A few pecked around in the ground, and I watched one female take flight and land near a male (photo below. ) But then the two, as well as the rest of the flock, just stood there.

From our distance, the male/female mix seemed about equal. ©Susan Scott

I was there because on April 7^th, birder and photographer, Roger Kobayashi, emailed that he saw dozens of kōlea in those two areas, and offered to take me there (military ID required for both places.) Because the birds don’t migrate until late April, and some in early May, we both thought this plover gathering was early.

But there they were, not exactly packed together but a lot closer than we see them all winter. We kept our distance so as not to disturb them.

The black dots in this Tripler Army Medical Center (pink building) field are kōlea. ©Susan Scott

As we watched, Roger and I wondered if there was enough food in those fields for that many birds (40 to 50.) Is bug abundance the reason they chose these particular areas? Do the birds return to their winter foraging grounds to keep their weight up? How does each bird know it’s fat enough to make the migration? Where do these flocks go at night? Why gather three weeks early? Are males and females pairing up? Does one bird decide the moment to migrate and the rest follow? Are kōlea gathering in other places now?

After Roger contacted me with the gathering news, I drove to Kualoa Park to see if kōlea are gathering there. They were not. I’ll keep checking. ©Susan Scott

“It’s amazing how many things we don’t know about these birds,” Roger said.

True. But the mystery of migration is part of the fun. It’s thrilling to see our plovers change into their breeding colors and start moving around, because we know the epic undertaking these seven-ounce birds (up from winter …

A happy Joshua Fisher, USFWS Invasive Species Biologist, holds the elusive kōlea he finally caught with a netgun. Wally Johnson photo

December 13, 2023

Two years after researcher Wally Johnson and countless volunteers fitted 20 Punchbowl kōlea with satellite tracking tags, four birds still carried their tiny backpacks. Time after time, Wally and helpers arrived in the cemetery with headlamps, cameras, mist nets, and netguns to recapture the birds.  Besides relieving the kōlea of their no-longer-functioning tags, Wally wanted to see how they had fared physically. Each of the four have flown two round-trips to Alaska and back, or about 12,000 miles, carrying the tags.

Unfortunately, the batteries in these satellite-signaling devices only have enough charge for one season. Total weight of the device and harness is a bit less than one U.S. nickle. Wally Johnson photo

But those kōlea were geniuses at staying just out of reach, dodging nets with such precision we joked that they could read our cars’ license plate numbers. Finally, persistence paid off. On November 29^th, Joshua Fisher, a USFWS biologist and netgun expert, caught one of the four. And good news: After removing the tag and examining the bird, Wally saw no evidence that the device and its harness had caused the bird any harm.

Josh with his hard-earned prize kōlea, November 29, 2023. Wally Johnson photo

Wally Johnson and partner Diane Smith untangle the kōlea from the net. Josh Fisher photo

Leg bands and tracking tags are the only way to learn about Pacific Golden-Plovers’ age and  travels. Such “jewelry” seems a lot for a little bird to carry, but apparently it doesn’t phase the hardy kōlea. Wally found no feather, body, or leg damage to this bird after two round-trip migrations. Josh Fisher photo

Tom Fake and Mr. X win a photo finish

Wally and his team of volunteers recently celebrated another achievement in Punchbowl Cemetery. A kōlea named Mr. X, named after its chosen wintering site in section X, has exceeded the kōlea longevity record. Wally was thrilled to announce with confidence that Mr. X is at least 21 years, 5 months old.

Mr. X with his 21-year-old aluminum band. Tom Fake photo

The former plover to hold the longevity title was a Bellows Air Force Station bird, also banded by Wally, that lived for at least 21 years 3 months.

Before Mr. X could be officially declared the oldest plover on record, Wally needed proof. This was no easy task. The bird had lost his three colored plastic bands that Wally added with the metal band for ID purposes.  Last year, plover counters noticed that only one red plastic band remained. This year, only the metal band remains.

In order to be sure that this is Mr. …