For two days, hundreds of Andean Gulls (similar to North America’s black-headed gulls) have been perching shoulder to shoulder along our bow hawse lines. This evening at 5, we cast off the lines and a whole lot of disenfranchised gulls were seriously pissed. They swirled around in the area looking lost, wondering where their perch went.
Local Indian merchants stocked about a dozen stalls on the pier in front of the Queen. Some of them also presented the stage show last night, native Inca music and dance, featuring their panpipes. The piper had a booth of his own and played on the pier most of the afternoon. The booths were all well attended and I hope they earned some good money. As we cast off and the bow thrusters kicked in, the vendors danced and piped on the wharf in front of a huge banner saying, “Thanks for visiting.” It was a surprisingly emotional farewell.
Hundreds of people on my starboard side here came out onto their balconies and waved and cheered the dancers and musicians as we departed. I don’t know if the locals could hear us when they ended their dance, but we were applauding as loudly as we could.
My head cold is completely gone, three days earlier than usual but not a moment too soon. The downside of sleeping the illness away is that my stamina is shot.
My bird lists have evolved into continental lists. All the North American birds (467 of them) are one list. Another is Asia, which mostly lists what I saw in Mongolia. Iceland, being its own thing, has its own list. Because its fused landmass is partly North American craton and partly Eurasian craton, it is both and neither. The Caribbean, too, is neither fish nor fowl but not for the same geological reasons.
And of course, South America is, well, South America. Can the same birds show up on more than one list? Yes, for two reasons. One is that we’re not sure when species have diverged enough to be called by different names. There is a white-winged dove here very similar to Arizona’s, but it goes by the name of Pacific dove in most references. Besides, even if they are the same species, they are geographically quite separated; seeing a great-tailed grackle in Lima and scoring a great-tailed grackle in a Norman, Oklahoma, parking lot are two different sightings and are both exciting.
I took the shuttle bus into Lima today, simply to have done it. The bus works between the Queen and a shopping mall in the city. I took my binoculars along, and as I got off the shuttle, a fellow with a map stepped in front of me. “You’re looking for birds, right?” “Yes.” “I can take you to hundreds of birds!” and he flapped a map in my face. It was the same map all the other independent operators were waving, trying to get folks into their vehicles to tour the place. I don’t like aggressive approaches. I should have stepped aside. Instead, I started toward him and almost ran him down. I don’t think he was expecting that from a little old lady; he stepped aside. I feel smug.
Never ever try to get aggressive with sweet, grey-haired, little old ladies. You could die.