Nature Talks author Cheryl Kimball made a trip to add the Steller’s Sea-Eagle to her life list. This unidentifiable picture was taken with a 4x zoom from a Pixel 6Pro smart phone pointed in the direction she was told the sea-eagle had landed, far in the top of a pine tree as much as a mile away along the Back River in Georgetown, Maine. If you go, be forewarned how far away the bird (typically) stays from birdwatchers and go prepared with the right equipment. Thanks to the kindness of strangers, Kimball did get a clear view of the bird on its perch using someone’s scope. Great pictures can be seen on the Facebook page “Maine (and Beyond) Steller’s Sea Eagle.”
Nature Talks author Cheryl Kimball made a trip to add the Steller’s Sea-Eagle to her life list. This unidentifiable picture was taken with a 4x zoom from a Pixel 6Pro smart phone pointed in the direction she was told the sea-eagle had landed, far in the top of a pine tree as much as a mile away along the Back River in Georgetown, Maine. If you go, be forewarned how far away the bird (typically) stays from birdwatchers and go prepared with the right equipment. Thanks to the kindness of strangers, Kimball did get a clear view of the bird on its perch using someone’s scope. Great pictures can be seen on the Facebook page “Maine (and Beyond) Steller’s Sea Eagle.”
APPARENTLY THE vagrant Steller’s Sea-Eagle (designated vulnerable in its native arctic range of China, Korea, Japan, Taiwan and the east coast of Russia) that was seen last year in Alaska, Texas, Massachusetts and Maine, then most of 2022 in New Brunswick and Newfoundland, liked its time in the Bath, Maine, area and returned.
Early in February word went around the Facebook bird community that “Stella,” as they like to call it although no one knows the bird’s sex, had returned. I had tried to see it almost exactly a year ago but was too late. This time I made immediate plans.
I booked a hotel in Bath and my plan was to get to the Arrowsic bridge on Route 127, where it is commonly seen, by 8:30 a.m. on a Monday morning. I had coffee, binoculars, camera and a warm hat, coat and gloves.
I drove to the bridge where several people had already gathered. No one looked too excited so I kept driving to an area called Flying Point, accessed by a dirt road to a point where good birdwatching happens and the Steller’s had been sighted before. I found the road in maybe a mile but it was marked private so I turned around and went back to the bridge.
Apparently on a weekend day there can be as many as 200 hopeful birdwatchers on the bridge making parking difficult. I chose a Monday on purpose and that morning there were maybe a dozen birders gathered.
As I walked out to the middle of the bridge, I was met with a stiff cold breeze rushing up the river. I overheard someone say the eagle had been sighted at around 8 a.m. at Flying Point. I asked about the private road and was told that there was an easement allowing passage to go to Flying Point.
Why am I here, I thought, when there was a known sighting barely a mile away? Despite the age-old birdwatching advice of staying put, I got in my truck and headed to Flying Point Road.
The dirt road was already muddy. I came upon a small parking area with enough room left for one vehicle. I walked from there maybe a half mile to the intersection where one turns off the road to cross the marsh. Many vehicles had gone through the muddy sections and parked there (which caused the road to be closed the next day).
As I walked toward the point, people were walking back and told me the sea-eagle had just flown off in the direction of the bridge. I could only laugh.
Back at the bridge, no one had spotted the bird yet. I hovered off at one edge trying to keep out of the wind so I could last a couple of hours if need be, figuring I would hear the roar of the crowd if the eagle appeared.
I was actually checking work emails on my phone when a woman came up to me and said, “We’re seeing the sea-eagle.” Feeling like a technology-obsessed workaholic (which I am not), I thanked her, walked out to the middle of the bridge and turned in the direction everyone was looking.
And here’s the thing you have to remember if you go to see this bird: It is highly unlikely you are going to watch the Steller’s Sea-Eagle soar around even 100 yards in front of you. The gigantic bird was in the tippity-top of the tallest pine on the horizon beyond where the river makes a turn.
With half-decent binoculars, I could mostly tell it was a bird. I didn’t get to see what kind of shot I could get with my digital SLR’s 350mm zoom lens because, despite reminding myself to charge my camera battery, I hadn’t. Geez Cheryl …
But here’s the other thing. Everyone I encountered that day was incredibly nice and very generous — offering snacks, to email pictures taken with massive lenses. And a couple people with scopes set them up, trained them on the bird and invited anyone to take a look.
I waited my turn and bent to look through one of the scopes kindly set at “short birder” height. The distant bird came into full focus. I could see its white shoulders and enormous gold beak. I exclaimed “Oh my god!” quite loudly. Everyone laughed and the owner of the scope said his favorite part is hearing people’s “aha moment.” Just like that, I added a magnificent bird to my life list that was never even on it to be checked off.
There were sightings the next day and then the bird “disappeared.” There have been no confirmed sightings since Feb. 14 according to the “Maine (and Beyond) Steller’s Sea Eagle” Facebook page. If the Steller’s reappears and you decide to try your luck, go during the week if at all possible. Do what you can to make it easier on these small towns and their small roads, but do go if you can to have your own “aha!” moment.
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Cheryl Kimball is a freelance writer who lives north of Rochester. Email her at naturetalksck@gmail.com.
