Alaska: Gambell in Spring

Day 1: The tour begins this evening at our Anchorage International Airport area hotel with a meeting followed by dinner. After dinner there might be some birding around the hotel and Lake Spenard, where in some years Barrow’s Goldeneyes and Red-necked Grebes are present with a variety of other waterfowl.  Night in Anchorage.

Day 2: We’ll fly this morning to Nome and after a short layover, transfer to a smaller aircraft for the 50-minute flight to Gambell. Weather is always a factor in this part of the world, and there is a chance that we won’t be able to continue immediately to Gambell, where the small airstrip requires visual flying conditions.

Gambell is a Yupik village of about 600 inhabitants at the northwestern tip of St. Lawrence Island. It is usually cold (28-40 degrees F) and often overcast; fog, rain, sleet, snow, and wind can occur in rapidly changing combinations. The terrain can make the days of walking seem long, but we’ll have motorized transport to reach prized birds quickly. Still, though, one should come to Gambell expecting to do a good deal of walking. Night in Gambell.

Days 3-8: Birdwatching at Gambell varies from excellent to incredible, combining the possibility of Asiatic birds with (normally) a spectacular passage of seabirds. We’ll also hope to see at least some of the birds that breed locally in western or northern Alaska but nowhere else in North America, such as Red-necked Stint (infrequent in recent years), Bluethroat, and White Wagtail. A few pairs of Rock Sandpipers (tschuktschorum subspecies) breed along with Semipalmated Plovers, Dunlins, Western Sandpipers, Red-necked Phalaropes, Lapland Longspurs and Snow Buntings. Our days will be spent covering and recovering areas that can harbor strays. The number of wanderers from Asia vary greatly from year to year. In some years they are simply very few, indeed almost none, while in a few there are many. In most years there are a scattering. The number of Asian species recorded arriving at Gambell appears related to the entire Bering region in general and the overall weather with storms from the southwest being the most optimal situation. The long list of Asian species we’ve seen during the last 50 years includes Siberian Sand-Plover, Common Greenshank, Green and Terek Sandpipers, Gray-tailed Tattler, Great Knot, Little, Temminck’s, and Long-toed Stints, Common Snipe, Oriental Pratincole, Black-tailed Gull, Common Tern (distinctive Asian black billed subspecies, longipennis), Common Cuckoo, Sky Lark, Siberian House-Martin, Dusky Warbler, Common Chiffchaff (dull eastern tristis subspecies which is likely a separate species), Taiga Flycatcher, Siberian Rubythroat, Red-flanked Bluetail, Dusky, Naumann’s, and Eyebrowed Thrushes, Fieldfare, Amur Stonechat, Gray Wagtail, Olive-backed and Siberian Pipits, Brown Shrike, Rustic Bunting, Brambling, Common Rosefinch, Eurasian Bullfinch, and Hawfinch. We have found Stejneger’s Scoter, a relatively recent split from White-winged Scoter to be of annual occurrence. Red-throated Pipit is also recorded about on about half of the tours. We should add that strays also come from the North American side, and that list is nearly as long. 

When there are no exotic birds to chase, seawatching from the point is almost always superb: Arctic and Yellow-billed Loons, Emperor Goose, Common, King, Steller’s and sometimes Spectacled Eiders, all three species of jaeger, many gulls, including the newly split Vega Gull (Larus vegae) which breeds in North American only on St Lawrence Island, sometimes Slaty-backed, and rarely Black-headed, or even Ivory or Ross’s, and literally hundreds of thousands of alcids passing by the point. We have a chance of seeing Dovekie (formerly a few were seen up on the side of the mountain, but in recent years only the odd bird is seen flying by the point, usually in the morning. We also have a good chance of seeing Black Guillemot (arctic mandtii subspecies), particularly if there is sea ice still present. In addition to the birds, Gray Whales pass by the point very closely and depending on the ice conditions we might see a few seals (four species occur) or with great luck a Walrus. Orca and even Beluga Whales have been seen too. Over the last several decades we have seen greatly reduced sea ice, and in recent years the last of the ice flows have disappeared weeks, even months before our arrival. As a result, ice-loving species such as Ivory Gull and Spectacled Eider are now recorded much less frequently. Nights in Gambell.

Day 9: This afternoon (weather permitting) we’ll fly back to Nome about midday and continue to Anchorage in the early evening. Night in Anchorage.

Day 10: Our main tour concludes this morning in Anchorage.

Nome Extension

Day 9: Those staying for the Nome Extension will remain in Nome for a three-night stay. Night in Nome.

Days 10-11: There are several important birdwatching areas around Nome, notably Safety Lagoon (with many waterfowl and shorebirds) on Council Road, Coffee Dome and the willow thickets and ponds inland on the Kougarok and road access to higher stony trundra on the Teller Road. These sites may produce Willow and Rock Ptarmigans, Pacific and American Golden-Plovers, Bar-tailed Godwit, Aleutian Tern, Northern Shrike (rare some years), Bluethroat, Northern Wheatear, Eastern Yellow Wagtail, Rusty Blackbird, and possibly Gyrfalcon or Arctic Warbler (numerous but often arrives on or about 5-6 June). If it’s open, we’ll spend one day at or near the north end of the Kougarok Road looking for the globally scarce Bristle-thighed Curlew, an endemic breeder to western Alaska. It’s a long drive but the vast tundra and mountain scenery would make the day memorable even without the presence of one of North America’s rarest breeding birds. This area is also home to Moose and the Grizzly Bear and an introduced population of the prehistoric looking Muskox, all of which we’ll hope to see. Nights in Nome.

Day 12: After a bit of birding in the morning, we’ll fly back to Anchorage around noon. Night in Anchorage.

Day 13: The Nome extension concludes this morning in Anchorage.

Pribilofs Extension

Days 12-16: Our Pribilofs tour begins the evening of Day 12 with dinner in Anchorage. On Day 13, weather permitting, we hope to leave on our flight this morning for St. Paul Island in the Pribilof Islands. As with other Bering Sea islands, weather, particularly fog, is often an issue and there is a chance that our flight will be delayed. Once on the island, we’ll have ample time to discover the richness of a Bering Sea seabird colony. The auk family is thought to have evolved in this region, and we should see a wide variety of the members of this family including the truly charismatic Horned and Tufted Puffin and Crested and Least Auklets. Add in Northern Fulmar, Red-faced Cormorant, and the near-endemic Red-legged Kittiwake, and the sum is memorable. Although not a photography tour, these cliff-nesting seabirds are often nearly at eye level and close enough that even a casual photographer might obtain a frameworthy snap.  In addition to the birds on the cliffs, we will seek out the endemic Pribilof subspecies of Pacific Wren and the near endemic subspecies (umbrina) of the Gray-crowned Rosy-Finch.

Our visit to St. Paul will concentrate on the nesting species, but in early to mid-June we can also hope for late migrants and perhaps a rarity or two. Our previous tours to St. Paul at this season have recorded Common Pochard, Falcated Duck, Tufted Duck, Red-necked Stint, Wood Sandpiper, Common Snipe, Black-headed Gull, Common and Oriental Cuckoos, Eyebrowed Thrush, Olive-backed Pipit, Siberian Rubythroat, Amur Stonechat, Brambling, and Hawfinch in addition to a rather long list of other Asian species. As is often the case with rare migrants, weather conditions are important (westerly winds are best). In some years no Asian rarities are seen while we are there.  In addition to the birds, Northern Fur Seals are easily viewed on the beaches and Arctic Foxes abound in the tundra. Nights in St. Paul.

Day 16: After a final morning at St. Paul, we’ll return to Anchorage in the late afternoon, where the Pribilofs tour concludes in the evening. 

2026 Narrative

IN BRIEF: Birders discovered the joys of spending time out on islands of the Bering Sea nearly 60 years ago, and these remote outposts have long fueled the dreams of aspiring birders eager to find an odd stray from nearby Russia. The best of these locations, Attu, the Pribilofs, Gambell, and various outer Aleutian Islands have produced dozens of North America “firsts” and an ever- increasing tally of birds that those down in the lower 48 or southern Canada can generally skip over when studying field guides that cover the continent. WINGS has been leading trips to Gambell for fifty years, with most groups coming in the early spring. A host of migrating species time their migrations into western Alaska to coincide with the breakup of the sea ice and gradual greening of the landscape which typically starts in mid to late May. Although most birders may harbour hopes of Asian stray species it is really the show of regular returning birds that makes the island stand out. Sitting at the gravel point and watching as streams of up to 10 species of alcids (sometimes in the tens of thousands) head north, accompanied by passing loons (4 species), Jaegers (3 species), Eiders (4 species) and the occasional flock of geese, cranes or shorebirds is simply magical; a soul enriching experience that serves as a reminder of a time when wildlife truly dominated the landscape.  

IN DETAIL: Our spring 2026 tour to the migration outpost of Gambell coincided with an extended period of northerly or northeasterly winds; not the ideal conditions for producing a wealth of unexpected species. Unlike the previous few years though where we had significant sea ice this year, we found the ocean to be ice-free, and the consistently sunny skies translated into appreciable snowmelt during the course of our visit. It was interesting witnessing the rapid change from a largely white landscape to a mostly open and even greening up tundra. Each day brought more open water around the village, and by the close of the week the small ridges in the boneyards were looking more green than brown.  

We began each of our days here with a one-hour seawatch, a daily ritual that rewarded our sometimes stiff fingers with a wealth of birds. Undoubtedly the star species here is Crested Auklet, which come by in waves hundreds strong. Estimating such masses is tricky, but on one day we guessed easily 100,000 birds passed by. With the Crested were thousands of tiny Least Auklets, hundreds of Thick-billed Murres and Parakeet Auklets and increasing numbers of Common Murre, Horned and Tufted Puffins and Pigeon Guillemots. On multiple days we found higher than average Black Guillemots, which were often feeding in the calm waters along the beach. Even better, this year we vastly exceeded the record total for Dovekie (a bit of a surprise as the species seemed to be in steady decline in the region over the past few years). In contrast to the past few years where we eked out a single Dovekie over the week we found multiple birds most days, and an incredible 26 on one particular morning (more than double the historical record for the island!) This meant that we were regularly seeing 10 species of alcids a day, a feat that would be hard to replicate in many other places. Apart from the auks we encountered an excellent array of species passing by the point, with good numbers of Yellow-billed, Red-throated and Pacific Loons, a couple of Arctic Loons, pulses of Pomarine Jaegers, Greater White-fronted Geese, Brant and Common and King Eiders. Some rarer waterfowl appeared as well, with a couple pairs of Steller’s, two male Spectacled and higher than usual numbers of Stejneger's Scoter (a species that has proved to be annual in small numbers since the split of the White-winged Scoter complex a few years ago). On one morning a true rarity passed by, when a single Marbled Godwit passed by close to the beach. Prior to this sighting there was a single unsubstantiated record of this species (which is scarce in the state away from a couple of isolated breeding locations) at Gambell! Without a doubt though the most memorable species at the point though was a stunning almost adult plumaged Ivory Gull that came right past us at point blank range. This high arctic beauty is annual at Gambell, but largely occurs outside of the traditional spring or fall tour dates, and to see one on a year with virtually no sea ice was quite unexpected.  

Despite the rather persistent northerly winds through much of the week we enjoyed a remarkable run of strays from adjacent Russia. Just before the tour participants arrived a quite cooperative Wood Sandpiper showed up in the small open area of marsh near the north end of Troutman Lake. Happily, it lingered for a few days, allowing close approach as it quietly fed along the edge of the melting snow field. On our second day it was joined by an equally cooperative and very brightly marked Long-toed Stint. Long-toed’s are elegant little birds, resembling a tiny Pectoral or perhaps a Least that was attending a Parisian fashion show. It’s quite a scarce species at Gambell in the spring, and this sighting was only our 4th over the last 24 years. Two days later down at the culvert marsh (which changed by the day from a frozen ice covered plain to a biologically active flowing marsh) we found a strikingly bright Siberian Sandplover right along the road that was completely nonplussed by the attention. Later in the week we flushed a Common Snipe, again from the corner marsh, that flew right passed us as it circled overhead, flashing its white underwing bars to excellent effect. Near the end of the week, and in much improved weather we were pleased to find the first returning Red-necked Stints and a Common Ringed Plover. Both species are scarce breeders around Nome and Saint Lawrence but spend their winters down in Australasia or Southeast Asia. As is often the case the arrival of a Common Ringed activated the aggressions of the local Semipalmated Plovers, which seem to not like their more well-marked cousins. A few decades ago all the local breeders were Common Ringed, but now the vast majority of the available territories around town are taken up by Semipalmated. Not all our surprise birds were shorebirds though, with a very tame Siberian (Common) Chiffchaff showing very well for us late in the day at the edge of the far boneyard. This Old-World warbler is a bit of a local mystery, with no records in the country before 2012 despite quite a bit of coverage. Since that initial bird they have proved to be nearly annual, occurring in both spring and fall, although this bird was only our third on the spring tours. We also had a real rarity from the other direction, with a male Rusty Blackbird in the corner marsh near the end of the week (only the islands 7th record ever)!  

Some of the regular migrant passerines and waterfowl that pass through town in spring are also of great interest to the visiting birders. We saw several of these Trans-Beringian migrants (those which purposefully cross the Bering Strait during their migration) including quite a few dazzling Bluethroats, a couple of flighty Eastern Yellow Wagtails, and a few flashy Northern Wheatears over the course of the week. On the waterfowl front we enjoyed excellent views of a few Emperor Geese, with some birds flying by the point and others quietly sitting in the open sections of the culvert marsh, keeping their heads low to avoid the attention of the local hunters. These same marshes supported ever growing numbers of shorebirds busily setting up territories as the snows melted away. Roding Long-billed Dowitchers flew back and forth over the marsh, uttering their complicated twittering flight calls, Dunlin and Western Sandpipers provided a near constant background din with their flight calls, with several males chasing their potential partners around on the ground with comically cocked up tails and quivering wings. Pacific Golden Plovers were often standing guard around the marsh, occasionally taking flight with their rather mournful two-note calls and in the more open patches of water spun little groups of Red-necked Phalarope.  

On a couple of mornings, we went over to the base of the cliffs at the northern end of the island, where we were simply enveloped by a cacophony of whirling auklets that passed back and forth overhead or chattered from the rock slopes above us. Estimating such vast numbers is hardly an exact science, but there were easily 50000+ birds around us at a time. Here we made sure to put Least, Crested and Parakeet Auklets in our scopes so that we could better enjoy their jaunty summer plumages, with ornate nuptial plates and small horns on their bills and filamentous plumes around their heads. This dense concentration of birds attracted raptors as well as birders, with daily sightings of Common Ravens (here of the largest Kamchatka subspecies) and Rough-legged Hawk and, on one day, a passing female Peregrine Falcon. The antics and vocalizations of the pair of Rough-legged Hawks as they started adding sticks to their nest tucked high in the rocky cliffs above Troutman Lake were particularly memorable.

As is often the case during our spring week around Gambell we encountered a nice array of mammals as well, with lots of cute Tundra Voles scurrying around the boneyards, a couple of still largely white Arctic Foxes, chittering Arctic Ground Squirrels and even a single Collared Lemming up on the slopes of Sevokuk Mountain, daily sightings of migrating Grey Whales (some within just a few feet of the shoreline) and a curious Spotted Seal that seemed just as interested in us as we sat out at the point than we were of him. On one morning we were thrilled to spot a small group of at least three Orca heading southwards from the point; a rare sight in the area in spring. And on another morning a large Steller’s Sea Lion swam past the point, providing our first ever sighting of this large pinniped (which seem to be getting more common further north in the Bering with the general warming of the ocean temps and northward push of larger fishes). Maybe our “best” mammal though was one of the town dogs which has adopted visiting birding groups, even taking the occasional ATV ride from a birder and trotting along (behind, thankfully) the groups doing boneyard sweeps. Dubbed Snowball by a group a few years ago this dog is the one exception to the “don’t play with the local dogs” rule. She would often join our seawatches, spending time sitting next to someone in the gravel or foraging for an endless array of undoubtedly high-quality scraps out along the shore. What dog wouldn’t want half a Snow Goose, a Walrus face, a rack of Seal Ribs or some Whale blubber for breakfast? 

In all it was a truly wonderful trip to the island this year, despite the cold and windy first half of the week. On our final day we checked all the regular spots, turning up a pair of Tufted Ducks down near the culvert and then packed up, bidding farewell to the local ivory carvers and hotel staff that had by now become familiar and often friendly faces before making it back to Nome on schedule. 

Nome Post-Tour Extension 

Leaving Gambell behind we took a mid-day flight back to Nome, where we found conditions to be markedly more comfortable than the near-freezing conditions on Saint Lawrence Island. Although we had clear skies and up to at least 60-degree weather throughout our three days in Nome there was still significant snow up in the higher mountains.  

We made the most of our first afternoon, with some birding around Nome and out to the nearby Nome River Mouth. A stop at one of the old gold dredges along the coast produced our first cackling Willow Ptarmigans, which were incredibly common this year, as well as excellent studies of loafing Red-throated Loons, some foraging Red-necked Phalarope and a locally uncommon Least Sandpiper. The river mouth lacked any real open mudflats due to the rapid snowmelt raising the water levels, but we were happy to find the Arctic Terns to be setting up for the season. A few Aleutian Terns were about too, occasionally flying over the road as they headed out to the shoreline to feed. Semipalmated and Western Sandpipers were displaying over the tundra and we picked out some distant Bar-tailed Godwits and Pacific Golden-Plovers on the flats. A few participants opted for a quick return trip to the Nome River Mouth after dinner (where we had to reacquaint ourselves with ordering from a menu after a week of Debbie's fine cooking on the island). This return trip was quite productive, with another Red-necked Stint, several handsome Red Knots in their best breeding dress, roding Wilson’s Snipes overhead and some closer Bar-tailed Godwits. All in all, it was an easy and great introduction to the birds around Nome. 

We spent the next day exploring the coastal Council Road, which heads east from Nome along the shore of Norton and Safety Sounds before turning inland towards the small community of Council, some 82 miles east of Nome. It was a day for waterfowl, a few particularly excellent rocky highland birds and a wealth of shorebirds. A brief stop in at Derby Creek revealed a few passerines in the willow thickets including our first Wilson’s and Northern Yellow Warblers, calling Northern Waterthrushes and a quite cooperative Wilson’s Snipe that was sitting on a small hummock along the road. This year the gravel and rock quarry around Cape Nome was very active with big trucks hauling impressively large boulders around. This meant that for our visit the traditional seawatch spot at the point of the cape was inaccessible. Undeterred we rounded the cape and arrived at Safety Lagoon, where we stopped frequently to check out flocks of birds on the recently ice-free shores of the main lagoon, small ponds in the tundra or just offshore in Norton Sound. Flocks of American Wigeon, Northern Pintail, Red-breasted Mergansers, Common Eider and Greater Scaup dotted the shoreline. Our arrival perfectly coincided with a low local tide, meaning that a lot of exposed mud along the margins of the ponds was attracting quite impressive numbers of waders. Most of the birds were local breeders such as Western and Semipalmated Sandpipers, Dunlin, Red-necked Phalaropes and Semipalmated Plovers but we turned up several migrant Pectorals in the larger flocks. A pair of Steller’s Eiders just a bit offshore was an excellent find by Jake. The birds were initially just out far enough to be partly obscured by a layer of marine fog that was lying just offshore, but happily they came in closer, eventually flying by our position and showing off to excellent effect. This is generally the scarcest of the four eider species around Nome, and as our views at Gambell were all of flying birds passing the point we were quite happy to spend a bit of time watching them in the scopes. Geese too were surprisingly common throughout the morning with a smattering of what appeared (and sounded) to be proper Cackling Geese, two Snow Geese, a few Greater White-fronted Geese, huge numbers of Brant and two small groups of Emperor Geese. Gull numbers seemed to be generally low, but we did turn up an unusually high number of migrant Sabine’s Gulls (67!), a few Vega Gulls and some nice comparisons of Short-billed Gull and Black-legged Kittiwakes. At the mouth of the Safety Sound Channel we found huge numbers of Red-necked and Red Phalaropes foraging along the edge of the point, and picked out both Ruddy and Black Turnstones along the beach. Here too were several dozen Sabine’s Gulls, plunge-diving Aleutian and Arctic Terns, a distant Arctic Loon and a locally very rare pair of Double-crested Cormorants. As we continued eastwards through the lagoon complex past the bridge we encountered ever larger numbers of Brant, Cackling and White-fronted Geese, Tundra Swan and Common Eider. Among the throngs of waterfowl we located a single male Mallard, a male Eurasian Wigeon, dozens of Long-tailed and Parasitic Jaegers, our first Short-eared Owl and Savannah Sparrows and a few more pockets of good shorebird habitat that were harbouring lots of Long-billed Dowitchers and another handsome Bar-tailed Godwit.  

We took our picnic lunch at the famous train to nowhere, a rusty old train that was originally an elevated people mover in New York City before being sold to ply the tundra between Nome and Council. Further out the Council Road, once the road veered inland and began to traverse rolling hills covered in dense willow brush at their base, but quickly opening up into alpine tundra at their tops, we stopped at a large bridge over a rushing stream. Here we located an active Gyrfalcon nest, and, staying back far enough to not disturb the hulking gray female who was on the nest protecting her 3 or 4 young fuzzy white chicks watched her as she stared intently back at us. This nest site had languished unused for the last 7 or 8 years, so it was a bit of a welcome surprise to find them back. Hopefully the pair will manage to successfully avoid the often too intense groups of birders and bird photographers (and the attentions of an occasional ne’er-do-well looking to grab the chicks for a quick sale to some distant Arab falconer), as the eye-level views of this site are really hard to beat. The stop was productive for passerines too, with a flashy pair of Northern Wheatear, our first Say’s Phoebes and Golden-crowned Sparrows and a pair of squabbling American Pipits all showing well.  

Since the day was sunny and calm we pressed on passed the bridge, eventually wandering our way up to the highpoint of the road at Skookum Pass. Just before the pass we stopped when we spotted a male Rock Ptarmigan sitting on a snowpile along the edge of the road. By this point we had already encountered a dozen or so Willows so the smaller bill, black through the lores and all cream-white plumage really served to help tell it apart from its more common cousins. Indeed, over the three days in Nome we found Ptarmigan numbers to be incredibly high, with our overall tally exceeding 240 Willows and a dozen Rocks! Once at the quite scenic pass we walked around a bit, taking in the truly superlative view and a few early spring wildflowers, as well as our first Golden Eagle.

The drive back towards Nome was punctuated with a lot of stops, and as we progressed the days list quickly began to climb. Male Bluethroats showed well as they gave their impressive bouts of song flight before coming down and perching at the tops of small willow shrubs. These same thickets held our first Grey-cheeked Thrushes, and Orange-crowned and Arctic Warblers . The latter was a bit of a surprise given the early date of this years tour. Generally the species arrives en-masse at the end of the first week in June, but in 2026 we found them to be vocal and already present well inland by June 2 (much to the happy relief of many of the participants). A small rocky stream provided us with our first dapper Spotted Sandpipers and an approachable pair of Harlequin Ducks, and just before we reached Solomon, we were happy to spot a male Merlin flying alongside the van. We arrived back in Nome with a bit of time to spare before going over the days (lengthy) birdlist and heading to dinner at a nearby pub. 

On our second full day of the extension, we took the Kougarok Road which heads inland from Nome, initially following the Nome River before passing through a mixture of alpine passes, open tundra with large lakes, and huge craggy mountains. This road has always felt the wildest of the three roads to me. We set off early, pausing to admire a quietly sitting male Willow Ptarmigan along the road and a large herd of Muskox atop a stony ridge. The day proved quite productive for Ptarmigan overall, with a record breaking 109 Willows and 3 or 4 Rocks along the road. Since we spent the first hour or so of the drive in rather dense fog, before the skies opened up to reveal a sunny and actually almost hot day our total count for Willows could likely have been significantly higher. Hopefully the bumper year for Ptarmigan (and also Snowshoe Hares) will mean an excellent breeding summer for the local raptors and mammalian predators!  

Salmon Lake was still largely frozen over, but thankfully the entrance road to the picnic ground was open (in contrast to just a few days before when it was blocked by an icy snowbank). Before driving down the side road to the campground we trained our scopes on the patches of open water and were happy to spot the (distant) pair of Yellow-billed Loons that had been reported there over the previous few days. Here too was a completely unafraid male Willow Ptarmigan that ran circles around our group at remarkably close range, running in short bursts like some oddly proportioned wind-up toy before stopping to give each of us an appraising eye in turn. We then stopped in to use the facilities and were surprised (somewhat) to discover that due to recent budget cuts in the federal government our usual public toilet block was locked, seemingly for the year. We availed ourselves in the nearby willows, and after watching some courting American Robins and several perched sparrows continued on towards our main birding area for the day at the Coffee Dome. A couple more stops enroute produced some distant Rock Ptarmigan perched atop a still snowy rock spire, a lovely singing Varied Thrush that rather uncharacteristically stayed put for a lengthy scope view, pairs of Red-throated and Pacific Loons paddling around in small tundra ponds and our first American Golden-Plovers and American Tree Sparrows of the trip.  

A little over 70 miles from Nome, on the top of a rounded dome-shaped hill there are a few pairs of the very range-restricted and globally rare Bristle-thighed Curlews. This small but easily accessible population was discovered by shorebird researchers in the early 1980’s and has been visited by birders throughout late May and early June ever since. The now well-beaten trail was quite dry this year, with only a little bit of running water springing from the ground or flowing down the steeper patches between the willow thickets and tussock grasses. Normally our quest for the Curlews involves a hike up about a mile to the top of the hill and then some exploration around the drier and rockier tundra that caps the crest. This year though we were still within sight of the vans, and only 500m up the trail when we spotted a curlew standing just a bit off of our path. Amazingly it was a Bristle-thighed rather than one of the many Hudsonian Whimbrels that also breed at the site. Bristle-thighed Curlew is attractive wader, with a more spangly gold back, salmon-toned flanks, cinnamon tail and a bright apricot-buff coloured rump. It’s an extremely long-distance migrant undertaking an extraordinary cross-Pacific migration from their South Pacific Island winter homes to remote grassy hills in the Seward Peninsula and Y-K Delta. It is not an easy species to preform population level studies on due to the remote nature of both its breeding and wintering grounds, but recent attempts have estimated that the species numbers fewer than ten thousand individuals. While watching the first bird (and getting even with it on the slope for closer views) we noticed a second bird that was slowly walking up our trail. This individual allowed us a much closer approach, and many a camera card came down heavily laden with nearly point-blank images! Leaving the birds in peace we headed back down the hill, quite jubilant with our lengthy and close-range views, the shortness and ease of the walk and suitably awed by the sweeping 360-degree wilderness views from the ridge. We then pressed on a bit further to a sheltered valley for a picnic lunch, with a much more cooperative Bluethroat popping up for us as we polished off the final crumbs of cookies and sandwiches.  

This jewel-like bird is a vocal and obvious member of the local avifauna for the first few weeks after it arrives from its wintering grounds in Asia. Once they start nesting though (which happens in mid-June) they are virtually silent and rather than boisterously launching themselves into the air and then fluttering down on outstretched wings spend much of their time lurking quietly in the dense thickets of willows that line drainages in the tundra. The bird repeatedly perched atop willows, showing its gleaming throat (one that would make most hummingbirds jealous) before launching into a towering song flight. Also at our lunch spot we spotted a female Moose with two small Mooselets in tow, oddly our only sighting of this species, often rather common around Nome mammal. After lunch we headed back towards Nome, stopping a few times to check out a few likely spots for new birds. In the alders around one of the river crossing we teased up a locally uncommon Yellow-rumped Warbler, here of the eastern Myrtle subspecies and another quite vocal pair of Say’s Phoebes. We had a few target birds remaining that tend to be found along moving water, so we drove slowly along a section of the road adjacent to a rushing rocky stream and were happy to track down a pair of Wandering Tattlers and a rather flighty American Dipper along the shoreline. Closer to Nome we stopped to scope a well-known nest of Golden Eagles that sits high above the valley floor on an impressive rock spire. Initially one of the adults was standing up high enough for us to see its head, but soon it settled back down into the bowl of its giant nest (likely 10-14 feet across and nearly 20 feet high after a decade plus of construction). The open ridges around the nest held an amazing 5 Rock Ptarmigan though, with two birds seemingly sparring a bit as they ran around near the top of the crest. Willow around our chosen parking spot were alive with birdsong, from the throaty calls of Grey-cheeked Thrushes to the ringing notes of Golden-crowned and Fox Sparrows and the rather buzzy electric song of Arctic Warblers. As we neared the coast we were enveloped by a thick marine fog layer, drawing our birding day to a close. 

For our final day in Nome, we decided to explore the first 43 miles or so of the Teller Road. This road snakes out to the west of town, eventually terminating in the small native village of Teller, some 75 miles out of Nome and on the western edge of the Seward Peninsula. Even before we left the developed section of time we started spotting more Willow Ptarmigan along the road, and over the course of our half-day we broke our all-time record (which we had just broken the day before) with 132 individuals! Also more common than usual were the Short-eared Owls and Long-tailed Jaegers which periodically crossed the road or were spotted out in the open tundra. At the rushing Sinuk River we stopped to bird from the bridge, where we watched Harlequin Ducks and Red-breasted Mergansers plying the fast-moving water, and Cliff Swallows and Arctic Terns foraging over the quieter reaches of the river. Just a bit passed the bridge we came to a screeching halt when a female Grizzly Bear with three large cubs lumbered up the hill above the road. The family of bears, likely recently awake from their long hibernation, didn’t react at all to our presence but steadily continued climbing uphill before disappearing into a willow thicket. We don’t see bears every trip around Nome, but when we do often all we see is a lone bear way off in the distance and running further away, so this sighting was exceptional.  

Our first main destination was a short gravel side road that winds up to a rocky and open dry tundra ridge just a few miles shy of Woolly Lagoon. It’s an interesting habitat, with piles of lichen covered shale, pockets of crowberry and early flowering wildflowers and bare gravel. The normal road up to the ridge was still blocked by snow, but the back side of the loop was passable, allowing us to drive up to the top and then enjoy an hour or so exploring in the uncharacteristically calm and even warm conditions. Pairs of American Golden-Plovers were displaying along the ridge, with the males flying with their deep and slow wingbeats often passing right overhead. Passerines in the drier tundra included ever-present Lapland Longspurs as well as a few courting American Pipits and a lovely pair of Snow Buntings. The ridge also held good numbers of Rock Ptarmigan (at least 5 individuals) and near the bottom of the hill a pair of Bar-tailed Godwits kept us entertained as they slowly walked across a section of more grassy tundra.  

Leaving the ridge behind we continued on westwards towards Woolly Lagoon, a small collection of beach houses and fishing shacks owned by the local native corporation. Just before the turnoff we stopped to watch a small herd of Muskox that were right next to the road. There is certainly something prehistoric about these shaggy behemoths, and against a sweeping tundra backdrop with scattered clumps of wildflowers and snow-capped peaks one could be forgiven for thinking that we were on a set for a Jane Auel inspired movie. This particular herd contained several baby Muskox, and we were chuffed to see the adults move to surround their young as we slowed the van. The entire group then stared at us for several minutes before trotting away from the road on their stocky legs and flouncing their dense hairy skirt hems. Normally we go about half-way down the road to the coast here, stopping at the boundary of the tribal land where there is a no trespassing sign. This year the road had been vastly expanded and smoothed out, with large culverts for drainage and no signage indicating that it was still closed to the general public. We headed down a bit further, eventually reaching a turn-around point near the coast, where some open sandflats and ponds held a nice selection of shorebirds including American and Pacific Golden-Plovers and a single Black-bellied Plover. The latter species was particularly well received as it was in full breeding plumage, with jet black underparts and snowy-white spangled upperparts; a far cry from the rather staid winter plumaged birds that we see along more southerly shores. Also here we were surprised to spot a single White Wagtail that was walking around in patch of shorter tundra. This species seems to be expanding a bit around the western Seward peninsula, with pairs popping up in places like Teller and even Nome in recent years; but it is still quite a scarce bird on the mainland.  

On the way back into Nome for lunch, we picked up our final new species for Nome with a single Bank Swallow joining the foraging Cliff Swallows around the Sinuk River Bridge. We arrived into town in good time for lunch at the local Subway (the furthest NW member of the sandwich chain in North America, and the only one that has a movie theater upstairs and sweeping views of Norton Sound complete with passing migrant waterfowl and loons). Our flight was scheduled for the early evening, so we spent a bit of time birding the Nome River Mouth again, spotting a few close Aleutian Terns and another handsome Bar-tailed Godwit. Many folks wanted to spend a bit of time shopping at the local store that specializes in ivory and bone carvings, so we headed back with time to accomplish that, fuel up the vans, repack all our gear and then get out to the airport. The flight wound up being delayed about an hour, which meant that our evening dinner back in Anchorage became a rather late but still jolly affair, with some of the participants heading off on other Alaska adventures or going home the next day, and others preparing to fly out to the Pribilof Islands for a few more days of Bering Sea Birding.  

St Paul, Pribilofs 

Birding in the Pribilof Islands combines a fantastic array of breeding birds in a remote setting with the chance to encounter stray birds from Asia. The windswept tundra, steep volcanic cliffs, sandy beaches, and grass-lined freshwater lakes make for a surprisingly dynamic mix of habitats for such a small and isolated island. This year’s pre-trip extension to the Pribilofs was blessed with mostly bright sunny skies with some atmospheric fog on some of the mornings that burned off by late morning. With all the sunshine the plants on the island were rapidly greening, and just over the course of our four-day visit the tundra colour palette shifted remarkably from a dun brown to a multicolored brown and green with quite a few flowering plants creating splashes of colour. Recent and unprecedented warming trends across the southern Bering Sea are unfortunately having a noticeable impact on the islands breeding seabirds, with large die-offs and nesting failures of many species over the past couple of seasons. This year though numbers of both Black and Red-legged Kittiwakes seemed to be quite robust, and the Common and Thick-billed Murre numbers seemed higher than last year as well.  

All of the expected breeding species were present and it is certainly hard to become tired of sitting and watching Thick-billed and Common Murres, Horned and Tufted Puffins, Crested, Least and Parakeet Auklets and Northern Fulmars all courting or preening on cliff ledges that are a scant 2-5 meters away at eye level. As if the alcids were not enough, the cliffs of the Pribilofs serve as the primary breeding area for the diminutive and beautiful Red-legged Kittiwake. Our daily and close-range studies of this species generally with Black-legged Kittiwakes in close proximity for comparison purposes was a highlight for many. Over the course of our several days on the island Rock Sandpipers, with their churring flight songs were near constant companions, outcompeted only by the ubiquitous Lapland Longspurs that seemed to be nearly everywhere in the island interior. The Pacific Wren population was reduced from prior years, likely due to the rather cold winter of 2025/26, but territorial birds were present in several of our most visited spots along the coasts and rockier slopes. As we always hope to do, we encountered a nice mix of vagrants too, with waterfowl such as Tundra Bean-Goose, Falcated Duck, Eurasian Wigeon and Tufted Ducks, shorebirds like Common Snipe, a couple of Black-headed Gulls and even a lovely passerine in the form of the island’s first Amur Stonechat on our last evening outing! 

Mammals were excellent around the island this year, with lots of Arctic Foxes (some still in their fluffy winter coats), sightings of the local Reindeer Herd near Antone Lake, a Pribilof Island Shrew up at Marunich (our first in several years) and daily sightings of Steller’s Sea Lions, Northern Fur and Harbour Seals, and even some migrating Grey Whales.  

The air carrier that had been bringing birders out to the islands for several years folded in the late summer of 2025. Other carriers put in bids, but the process for securing the contract drew out until quite early in 2026. Happily for us the airline that won the bid was Aleutian Airlines, a company with a long and good track record of working around the southern Bering Sea. Their planes are significantly larger and faster than the type flown out by Raven, with a remarkable amount of leg room. The faster plane and larger fuel tanks allow these Saab 2000’s to come out to Saint Paul Island without a refuelling stop, cutting over an hour from the old flight times! 

Our flight out this year was scheduled for the midday, and happily when we arrived at the airport, we were informed that the weather looked decent, and the flight was on time. We grabbed some to-go sandwiches for lunch and were soon on our way westwards, crossing the wilderness and still snow-covered peaks of the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta and then out over the remarkably cloud-free Bering near the small town of Togiak. After we arrived just before three, we accessed our luggage to gear up for some afternoon birding before dinner. Our goal on this first day was to do what the local guides on Saint Paul term the “rarity roundup”, where we seek out the potentially lingering known rare birds around the island. By far the most interesting of these was a truly stunning male Falcated Duck that had been found a few days prior to our arrival. The bird was apparently spending its days in some unknown pond in the island’s interior or remote coast, but each evening was returning to the small lake in town to roost. Since its arrival seemed to be generally around 11pm we decided to wait for that quest until later in the day. The tide in the nearby Salt Lagoon was quite low, so we elected to make our first stop there for our first instructive comparison views of Black and Red-legged Kittiwakes. Far from simply being a Black-legged Kittiwake with fancier footgear, the local Red-leggeds stand out by having darker grey mantles, a rounder head, a shorter and deeper yellow bill, a noticeably larger eye and smoky-dark underwings. By the time we walked back to the van I think most people were confidently picking them out of the flock; even without seeing their namesake crimson legs. The north side of the lagoon was hosting quite a few birds as well, and picking through the flock we found the two lingering Black-headed Gulls (sadly without full dark hoods), as well as a handsomely marked breeding plumage Wandering Tattler.  

After the Salt Lagoon we headed over to Pumphouse Lake for a marsh stop around the well vegetated lake margins in the hope of locating a snipe. Our quest was quite successful, with our volunteer walkers flushing a single Snipe that obligingly flew back across the lake close to our position. Once the flushers arrived at the landing spot the bird kicked up again and circled us overhead, resulting in decent flight views of the bird which clearly showed the white wingbars in the underwing that marked the bird as a Common Snipe. Both Common and Wilson’s Snipe are annual in spring migration out in the Pribilofs, although most years Common is the dominant species, with some individuals occasionally lingering weeks and even winnowing over the marshes. The pond held a few Northern Pintail, Green-winged Teal and Long-tailed Ducks, as well as a pair of Greater White-fronted Geese which is an uncommon migrant in the Pribilofs.  

Leaving Pumphouse behind we then returned to the airport to fully check into our rooms (as several of them were not ready upon arrival) and after dinner headed up to Northeast Point to see if there were any interesting birds around the tip of the island. In Webster Lake (the only major water body around the peninsula) we were surprised by the number of pairs of Greater Scaup; a species that has only been breeding on the island for a few years, but one that seems to be doing remarkably well here. Among the Greaters we found a pair of Lessers, which is quite a scarce species for the Pribilofs; although admittedly likely not the kind of vagrant most participants dream of while on the island. The nearby beach, dubbed Webster Seawatch by local birders produced fine views of Rock Sandpiper and a loafing flock of Harlequin Ducks, but oddly no Loons or Scoters, which both seemed quite scarce (absent) this year during our visit. These Rock Sandpipers are paler and larger than the other three subspecies, and breed only on the central Bering Sea Islands of the Pribilofs and Saint Matthew and Hall to the north. Spending their winters on the giant tidal flats along the Cook Inlet these birds seem quite different to the more widespread mainland subspecies that winter far to the south, and were in fact originally described as a separate species.  

Driving out to the very end of the Peninsula allowed us access to the isolated Hutchinson Hill; a small cinder cone that just a few hundred years ago was actually the core of a different island adjacent to Saint Paul that is now connected via the stabilized dune network of Novastoshnya. Here the local guides have constructed quite an impressive “forest” inside a deep scoria cut, with a random brushpile of driftwood branches and shipping pallets all stacked up in the center of the area, and ample bird seed sprinkled around the area. Although no vagrant birds were using the provided shelter or food, we were able to study in good detail about a half-dozen handsome Grey-crowned Rosyfinches and several starch-white and jet-black Snow Buntings that were coming in to feast on the proffered seeds. Much like the wrens on the island the Rosyfinches here are larger than those on the mainland, with a markedly different (and brighter) plumage and a different breeding biology. After scouring the cut, we walked a bit around the hill, taking in the views of a few hundred Northern Fur Seals and a small group of Steller’s Sea Lions that were hauled up along the coast. Although still quite early in the year for the fur seals to be breeding we spotted several groups of freshly arrived females being guarded by a couple of particularly large beachmaster males.  

Returning from Northeast Point we stopped at the hotel for a comfort break and then went into town to await the arrival (hopefully) of the Falcated Duck. To our great relief he flew in right on cue, slightly after 11pm. The bird quickly settled in to his surroundings and joined a group of Northern Pintail that were dabbling along the edge. We moved over to a much closer vantage point and drank in the views of this beautifully pattered duck in the late evening sun. The first North American record of this species was on nearby Saint George Island in 1962, and since then the bird has occurred only 5 times on the island. We filled up our camera memory card with images of the birds elongated scapular feathers, bright brassy-green head, grey spangled breast and flanks and white and black neck collar from a makeshift blind of an abandoned car parked next to a weather-beaten house. While watching the duck we also found a Bank Swallow and a (North American) Barn Swallow hawking insects over the pond. Elated by our finds on the first day but a bit tired due to the late hour we went back to the hotel to turn in for the night, very much looking forward to our next 2 and a half days exploring the island.  

Our first full day on the island dawned with a light but persistent North wind under bright blue skies. As we customarily do on this first morning, we began with a visit to one of the coastal seabird cliffs that ring much of the southwestern side of the island. A bit west of town we stopped at a small parking area and walked down to a promontory on the top of a low band of sea-cliffs (dubbed Tourist Point by the locals). Here we were soon engrossed in soaking in views of our first Least, Crested and Parakeet Auklets, Thick-billed and Common Murres, Red-faced Cormorants and Northern Fulmars as they prospected nest sites or put the finishing touches on their newly constructed nests. The first week of June is quite early in most of these species’ breeding cycles, and although the number of individuals was still fairly low (compared to what one would expect in mid-summer) the expected species were all present, and many were wonderfully close and near eye-level providing excellent photographic opportunities. It is hard to become tired of sitting and watching the gaudy procession of seabirds courting or preening on cliff ledges that are a scant 5 meters away at eye level. As if the alcids were not enough the cliffs of the Pribilofs serve as the primary breeding area for the diminutive and beautiful Red-legged Kittiwake, with several nests very close to our chosen vantage point. We lingered on the clifftop for about an hour, but eventually the cold wind began to penetrate the outer layers of our gear. We decided to warm up in the van on the drive over to the Southwest tip of the island where the most recent lava flows (roughly 2500) years ago have created a lovely black boulder encrusted point with small tidepools. Loafing on the point were more Harlequin Ducks and a couple of Red-legged Kittwakes that were really showing off their feet to excellent effect. Here too was an impressively large Fur Seal male that kept a wary eye on us as we watched dozens of Northern Fulmars foraging in the rough waters just off the point.  

A check of Antone Lake and Slough, where we found the water levels quite a bit higher than usual didn’t produced anything particularly notable with the exception of a pair of displaying Least Sandpipers. I suspect though that my crossing of the muddy and quite deep slough using a narrow and half-sunken bridge kept the group entertained for a bit. While walking back up to the van though one of this years USFWS biotechs stopped to show us a photo of a Tundra Bean-Goose that she had just taken over in Polovina Lake. Her identification was accurate, so we quickly hurried over to scan the large lake from the road. Our initial scans failed to produce any geese, but over in the far back corner we noticed a dark shape tucked into the marsh. I walked out and as I got a little closer the shape resolved into a female Northern Pintail tucked in with another bird that proved to be our male Falcated Duck! With the mystery of its daytime haunts solved I walked back to the vans and just before we left was alerted by the other group of birders on the island that two or three geese had just dropped in to the very back section of marsh. Luis walked out to the back corner and managed to find an angle into the grasses where he could clearly make out the Bean and two Greater White-fronts. He then flushed the birds towards the road, and happily for us they landed on one of the central grassy islands in the middle of the lake; settling in nicely and allowing us to enjoy extended scope views. This was only our second sighting of this bulbous headed and dark-billed species over our last ten spring trips out to the Pribilofs and gave us a bit of a spring in our step as we drove into town to grab lunch at the recently reopened Trident Seafood Plant. Historically this site was where we had all of our meals, but with the crash in the Bering Sea crab industry the plant had been shuttered for the last seven or eight years. Due to a largescale harbour dredging and improvement project ongoing this year though the plant has reopened, with the chef providing food for the several dozen construction workers and a small group of people who were preparing the facility to resume processing seafood later in the summer or early fall. Visiting birders were able to use the facility too, which certainly saved the local guides a lot of extra work preparing meals up at the hotel (as they have done since the plant closed down).  

Once sated by the generously ample buffet we walked across the street to take a close look at a very tame Arctic Fox and a few nesting pairs of Red-faced Cormorants that were making the finishing touches on their grassy nests on an adjacent cliff. Most birders generally don’t look too carefully at cormorants, but these large birds sport scarlet cheeks, blue gapes and a bright yellow bill, paired with a dashing double crest and huge white flank patches and all accentuating their rather glossy bodies which glisten with undertones of bronze, green and purple depending on the quality and angle of the lighting conditions. We then drove a short distance southwards along Reef Point where we spent another hour or so taking in breeding seabirds that were using a rocky cliff face which is covered in bright yellow lichens (a most excellent backdrop for photos). Scanning out to the south we were happy to find a dozen or so hulking Steller’s Sea Lions hauled out on the appropriately named Sea Lion Rock (the smallest of the five Pribilof Islands). Although the male Fur Seals seem large close up (and indeed can weigh upwards of 600lbs) Steller’s males can top 2000 pounds and are truly impressive animals. While at Reef we also walked down to a dedicated blind that is set up in the center of a Northern Fur Seal Colony to get a bit close to some beachmaster males that were snoozing in the rocks close to the shoreline, likely waiting for the arrival of the female seals (which typically happens in mid to late June). Their various grunts and snorts would likely be misconstrued as insulting to a Chewbacca, and we were close enough to see that even with their thick blubber layers around their necks many of the males had noticeable recent wounds from their territorial battles with adjacent animals. A Pacific Wren played hide and seek with us here, eventually settling down atop a nearby rock and uttering its cascade of bubbly notes. The Wren is of particular interest as they are resident in the Pribilofs, spending the cold and dark winters foraging in the intertidal zone, and breeding mostly in crevices in the cliff faces. Larger and paler than mainland Pacific Wrens and possessing a forcep-like long bill and broad eyeline they look quite different than “normal” Pacific Wrens and seem to be slowly evolving into a unique sort of coastal Canyon Wren.  

Just before dinner we walked through the main batch of largely abandoned crab pots that line the road near Icehouse Lake. These tall rows of impressively large crab traps serve as a makeshift forest for wayward songbirds, and although we didn’t turn up any rarities, we did enjoy multiple views of chatty Gray-crowned Rosy-Finches, here of the abnormally large and colorful Pribilof subspecies. Across the street in the lagoon, we found a snoozing female King Eider sitting on a small rock just offshore. It proved to be her favorite perch, and over the subsequent few days we regularly saw her having a rest.  

Given our lengthy birding day upon arrival, we decided to not try anything too taxing after dinner, electing to once again head up to Northeast Point for a quick check of Hutchinson Hill and Webster Lake. This trip up involved a bit of fog which prevented us from seeing too far out to sea or even out into the lake, but we still managed to find a migrant Ruddy Turnstone on the flanks of the Hill, a pair of migrating Pacific Golden-Plovers along the road and a hunting Short-eared Owl that was being chased by three quite determined Redpolls out in the grassy fields of Novastoshnya.  

The next day dawned with a bit more fog, though it cleared rather quickly through the morning and by the afternoon was only a distant memory. We again started the day with visits to the seabird cliffs, this time starting at Reef and then heading out to Ridge Wall. On this day we found Crested Auklets to be more confiding, with several close birds showing off their ridiculously shaggy crests which overhang their wide and bright orange bills. In combination with their rather pot-bellied silhouette and somewhat gangly blue-grey legs one could be forgiven in thinking that the whole bird was created by Dr. Suess in a moment of creative inspiration. A few closer perched Tufted and Horned Puffins kept us entertained for quite some time as they sat outside their chosen rock crevices surveying the ocean below. Also here, we tracked down a pair of strikingly patterned Ancient Murrelets that paddled slowly along the shoreline below our vantage point. This is the rarest of the eight species of breeding alcids on the island with breeding confirmed only in 2003, and annual high counts only in the few dozen individuals.  

Along the road out to Southwest Point we stopped to admire a large flock of Harlequin Ducks that were resting in the rocks near Zapadnie Beach, and spent a bit more time watching the antics of the Northern Fur Seals. We again found Antone Slough to be devoid of migrant shorebirds, but the small pond in the back of the marsh looked ripe for visitors, and the long set of branches that we pulled out of the grass will soon be gracing the cut up at Hutchinson Hill, hopefully hosting something interesting for some other group of birders. In Icehouse Lake we were surprised to see two female plumaged Bufflehead swimming around, our only sighting of this generally rare species for the island this trip (where do they go?). Our last new species for the morning outing was furnished by an adult Long-tailed Jaeger that flew right over the Trident Parking Lot, with its namesake trailing tail feathers on full display. 

For our afternoon outing on the second full day we took advantage of the fact that no new birds were popping up at the regular spots and decided to use the fancier all-wheel drive van to journey up to the most remote corner of the island. The long “road” there passes through lots of grassy tundra and skirts a couple of high volcanic cinder cones before reaching a small lake near the Northwestern tip of the island. This marked the first time a WINGS tour had ever been to the location and indeed was only the second time even the local guides had been out there in the last three years! The lake is situated right on the western edge of Lincoln Bight; a shallow marine bay with rocky headlands which is often productive for loafing flocks of eiders and scoters. Since the area is checked so irregularly there aren’t too many historical records of note there, though the islands only record of Spoon-billed Sandpiper occurred there back in August of 1989. We stopped a few times on the drive out to check out a few wildflowers and an impressive rack (and skull) of one of the local reindeer. After about 50 minutes on the road we were greeted by a rather cheerful sign welcoming us to Saint Paul Island that had been propped up on the entrance gate to the section of the island managed by USFWS. Shortly after the gate we parked and walked up to the lake, finding the muddy and largely open edge to be nearly perfect for shorebirds. Only a few Rock Sandpipers were about, but it was easy to imagine that during the prior week when shorebirds were really moving in the Bering that the lake had hosted something of note. Hundreds of Kittiwakes were loafing about in the lake, bathing or gathering grass along the edge for their nests. Only one duck was present too, but happily it was a nicely marked male Eurasian Wigeon. A small private cabin near the lake had been recently rebuilt and looked a homey spot to spent a couple of days away from the busy hustle and bustle of town. The fog lifted while we were here, allowing us to spend a bit of time watching the flocks of Kittiwakes, passing Puffins and Fulmar and the occasional Red-faced or Pelagic Cormorant flying by along the coast. Heading back to the main road we also diverted to nearby Marunich, a spot roughly in the middle of the north coast where another (much smaller) pond sits across from a picturesque sandy beach flanked by rocky headlands and often harbouring a significant amount of drying kelp deposited by the prevailing currents. We checked a few boards that were buried in the grasses near the carpark and were thrilled to turn up a somewhat cooperative Pribilof Island Shrew scuttling underneath. This tiny predator is endemic to Saint Paul, and although they are relatively common in the sandier areas of the island it is not something that is often encountered by people visiting for just a few days. With our sighting of Reindeer earlier in the day this little mammal completed the sweep of regularly possible mammals around the island! The pond was hosting a few Rock Sandpipers that seemed intent on bathing despite the steady winds. Out to sea we scoped a few more Pelagic Cormorants and some loafing flocks of Harlequin Ducks and Horned Puffins as we walked a bit along the shore, doing a bit of beachcoming and botanizing on the way. 

In the evening, we started off by visiting Kaminista, a large rock quarry and collapsed lava tube not too far from the airport that generally has some sheltered spots and cover in all but the strongest winds. As we entered the quarry we flushed a small bird from a rapidly drying pond that proved to be an American Pipit (a scarce but regular spring migrant here). It thankfully landed again near the side of the road, allowing us a good enough view to ensure that the bird was not one of the recently split Siberian Pipits. Our walk up in the upper cut of the quarry was filled with the local passerines all busily setting up territories or foraging around in the rocks. At one point we were surrounded by birdsong, with all four local passerines joining in to create the closest thing to a dawn chorus (at night) as possible. We then checked the small patch of crab pots that have been dumped into the edge of the quarry due to their owners becoming delinquent on payments or aging out of use. Although small, this grove of pots has been productive over the years, and on this occasion we flushed a small and furtive brown bird that shot around the back of the rows, staying low and generally avoiding us immensely well. We spent some time trying to locate it around the pots and large rock piles to no avail. Hoping that it might return if we gave it a bit of time we went up to a high sand dune that overlooks English Bay. This vantage point allowed us to scan two small melt ponds along the beach which held a (rare for the Pribs) male Mallard and two more Greater White-fronted Geese. The long sandy beach here was hosting impressive numbers of Black-legged Kittiwakes and Glaucous Gulls that were feasting on some abundant food resource (perhaps fish eggs) that was washing up on the shoreline. Our return visit to the pots yielded no small brown bird, but as we were driving out of the area a sharp-eyed participant noted a small black and white passerine perched along the road edge. It turned out to be quite a find as it was a striking male Amur Stonechat! This boldly patterned species had never before been recorded on Saint Paul Island (with the only prior Pribilof record coming from Saint George in the fall of 2025). The bird was a bit flighty, but repeatedly perched up on prominent celery stalks, rocks or even the road edge, showing well in the scopes as we chased it about a bit obtaining documentary photos. Eventually it headed up the slopes of nearby Telegraph Hill, seemingly never to be seen again. Elated with our prize we headed back to the hotel for a well-deserved rest while for those birders on the island who were not part of our group an unsuccessful chase ensued that lasted well into the wee hours. Happily though, the bird was refound the next morning and lingered at least into the following day.  

Our final day on the island was again initially foggy, but eventually became sunny around the airport, and we spent our time productively, with a return visit to the seabird cliffs, where we found the cliffs to be markedly busier with birds. We estimated well over a thousand murres and good numbers of Auklets up on the cliffs or loafing in flocks on the water below. We were particularly thrilled to spot a half-dozen or so Tufted and a few Horned Puffins perched along some of the ledges. The flyby (and perched) views of both Kittiwakes were excellent as always, offering the visiting birder ample opportunity to study the many differences between the two species beyond their namesake foot colour. We then dutifully checked a litany of locations to see if any other new migrant species had dropped in, before checking out of the hotel, having lunch and checking in for the flight. Our final stop was more for scenery and geology, as we drove up to the top of Lake Hill. This short and winding road climbs the southern slope of a wide cinder cone, before dropping into a fairly old caldera (complete with a small lake and gravel quarry) and then ascending to the top of the hill where the FAA has installed a series of radar equipment to help planes not stray into Russian airspace. From this perch we enjoyed a sweeping view of the center of the island, and also the picture-perfect crater lake that gives the hill its name. All too soon we had to return to the airport to load up for the return flight, taking off and leaving behind a beautiful and remote speck of land that so few people in the world have been able to enjoy. 

-          Gavin Bieber

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