The Mariana’s, Day 6-8 — Rota

[By Nicholas Alexander Komar (Nick Jr.)]

We arrived on the island of Rota on December 23rd, 2023. The flight from Saipan took about 30 minutes in a dual-engine jumper plane that fit up to eight passengers (including the pilot). You can really feel the air in a plane that small, which can be troubling considering nothing is in your control. The pilots for S.T.A.R. (Saipan, Tinian, Aguijan, Rota) Marianas Airline have all been young, professional, interesting people. One was a 22-year-old guy from Colorado Springs who studied at the Air Force Academy. Another was a 23-year-old Indian woman who grew up in Maine and had been involved in aviation since she was six years old. I found it fascinating to learn how each of them ended up flying these tiny plans way out here in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. 

The birding goal on Rota was to find Mariana Crow, and Rota White-eye. Both critically endangered species endemic to this island. We were given suggestions by locals on how to find both, so we felt confident about our ability to get those two species, and spend the rest of the 48 hours checking out vagrant traps that have a history of having wintering Asian vagrants.

Our first birding stop was at the Rota Resort Golf Club near the airport. We parked the car and stepped out to look at a pond hoping for a Medium Egret or Gray Heron, but instead within seconds we heard the call of the MARIANA CROW (Big Year-Bird number 873) We followed the calls and quickly came across a family of three birds, presumably welcoming us to the island. That was easy! Moving right along…

We spent the rest of the first day checking the shoreline and other hotspots until driving up into the foothills in search of Rota White-eye. The place we wanted to go had a checklist from four days earluer with Rota White-eye and Pacific Swift, an Asian vagrant. We felt lucky. Every time we got out of the car we knew we could find something really unusual since this island does not get ebird reports often. We thought we could increase our chances of finding birds by walking the rugged roads rather than driving (and we didn’t want to risk damaging the rental vehicle). As we walked I scanned the cliff side above us hoping something interesting would be circling the high ridge. I spotted something large flying overhead.  “Here’s something!” I called out to get my Dad’s attention. As I tried to get my binoculars to focus I thought could this be some weird seabird, or a raptor? Dad got on it first, “It’s a bat.” A bat?! It was then I learned that the island of Rota was home to the Mariana Fruit Bat, which has a wingspan similar to a Black Vulture. These things flew all over the island at all hours of the day, and were actually pretty cute despite their monstrous size. 

After hiking for six miles we didn’t see a single Rota White-eye. These birds might end up being more difficult than we anticipated.

The next morning we tried our luck at Guam Rail. A local ornithologist gave us coordinates for a reliable spot that is near where these birds have been reintroduced to the region. They are a sensitive species, and recent projects to improve the population has brought them to Rota. We got to the location before sunrise, and slowly drove the single lane dirt roads hoping to spot one running around. Strike one. 

We didn’t have much time to search for the rail because we had arranged to meet with local ornithologists to search for an Abbott’s Booby. This odd looking species is long-winged and gangly in appearance, and is often mistaken for an albatross or frigatebird. This individual wandered far from its nesting grounds on Christmas Island to Rota about a year ago, but hadn’t been seen since February, 2023. We knew our chances were slim but we had to try. At 7:30am we met up with Kieth, Rachel, and Julia at the trailhead. They are all team members that have elected to come to the island for a rehabilitation project for the Mariana Crow. They led us through the forest on an underdeveloped trail that Dad and I would have had no way of knowing about without their help. The forest was dense, and the hike was slow, buggy, and hot. After about 35 minutes, we emerged to a scene I will never forget. The forest opened up to a narrow cliff edge that overlooked the forest below, the Philippine Sea, and hundreds of boobies nesting in the tree tops. It was spectacular. 

My desire to find the lone Abbott’s Booby in a trove of Red-footed Booby and Brown Booby diminished as I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. Dad on the other hand started announcing a group strategy to search the colony. I took photos with my cell phone, videos, selfies, and tried to record the different seabirds that came floating up the cliff side to check us out, and kept an eye out for the Abbott’s, of course. 

Ninety minutes went by and we accepted the fact that most likely the Abbott’s was out patrolling the sea possibly hundreds of miles away. We said goodbye to the prehistoric view, and trudged through the jungle back to the car. Strike 2. 

Tired and slightly disappointed in our lousy luck so far, we decided to check out some vagrant traps before making another run for the White-eye. We headed to the airport to scan the fields for possible shorebirds or waders. It was a slow process, and most of the heads popping up from the grass were Pacific Golden-Plover. Finally, we caught a break. I spotted a snipe. Snipes in this part of the world are tricky, but there was a high possibility that we could turn it into an Asian vagrant that was new for my Dad. We studied the bird as best we could, and after some deliberation, we agreed that this was a SWINHOE’S SNIPE (874). Double in the gap! 

Now it was time for another crack at Rota White-Eye. This time we used improved intel to determine our search location. We drove higher in elevation to some better habitat. Again, we walked for miles in search of our target. We stumbled across a massive coconut crab, plenty of rats and the largest monitor lizard I’ve ever seen, easily six feet long, but no White-eye. The consolation prize was an incredible sunset view overlooking the “Wedding Cake” peninsula of Rota. It was valiant 2nd effort for Rota White-eye, but nonetheless a swing and a miss.  

Our 3rd and final day on Rota started with another unsuccessful attempt at finding Guam Rail. Strike 2 (if you count the at-bat last evening). With only a few hours to spare before our flight back to Saipan, we had to go for the White-eye again. This time we picked a spot that had the most eBird reports of this species ever. It was almost a guarantee. We followed navigation to the pin, but were stopped short. The road had degraded, and the ground was too wet to even attempt driving over. If we got stuck out here we’d risk missing our flight, or worse. We luckily managed to get the car out of the muddy tracks and to a safe parking spot, and took off on foot. The clock was ticking. 

Now on foot, we again hit more roadblocks. The path had turned into a creek bed, and water was rushing down the mountain. I first tried to keep my feet dry by tiptoeing through the mud, but eventually gave up and fully submerged my running shoes & socks in the murky water. “This white-eye is kicking our ass,” I said. We stopped and spished at every good patch of jungle that the bird preferred, but all we observed was silence. Time had run out, and we walked back shaking our heads. Who knew we didn’t have the bat speed to catch up to the Rota White-eye’s proverbial pitch. Strike three, we’re out. Back to Saipan.