It was back in 1992, long before I started writing for the Greenfield Recorder, and I was working for the U.S. Forest Service on the campus of the University of Massachusetts Amherst. I was helping with research for a book on Neotropical migratory birds and it was only because of this opportunity that I learned about an extremely rare shorebird that only occasionally wanders up into the Northern Hemisphere as what ornithologists call a “vagrant” or an “erratic.”
A member of the sandpiper family, this bird has one of the most unique feeding behaviors of any species I know of. An exquisitely beautiful physical adaptation (the shape of the beak) allows it to feed on mussels and clams, a food resource that most other members of the sandpiper family are unable to exploit. The bird I am speaking of is the auger-billed clamsucker (Calidris helixus) and chances are you’ve never heard of it.
The clamsucker approaches clams, mussels and oysters at low tide and attacks the shells of these mollusks right above the hinge. Using its astounding beak, which really does resemble an auger, the bird will twist its head to get a hole started. Once some progress is made, the bird then changes tactics and moves in quick circles around the prey until the hole penetrates the full depth of the shell. Then, the bird simply slurps out the mollusk the way any of us might eat an oyster at a raw bar.
OK, chances are that most of you have realized that I am kidding. There is no such bird as an auger-billed clamsucker. I read about this bird in a delightfully silly book called, “A Field Guide to Little Known and Seldom Seen Birds of North America.” Someone had given me this book as a gift and it was filled with fictitious birds designed specifically to make birdwatchers laugh. Mission accomplished; I laughed long and hard.
The problem with this story is that I really was working on a book of Neotropical migratory birds for the U.S. Forest Service. I spent hour after hour, day after day trying to compile the most accurate list of species that would qualify as Neotropical migrants. Furthermore, I spent enormous amounts of time searching through a variety of records to try to find the local names for the birds in the languages of any countries they may visit. Canada, Mexico, Belize, Venezuela and Brazil may all have the same bird, but may have different names for that species. The book I was helping with was attempting to reduce confusion in the world of ornithological research.
So what did the 24-year old version of me decide to do? Remember that this version of me was fueled by the humor of Monty Python and Mad Magazine. Yes, you guessed it, I added the auger-billed clamsucker into the list of birds. Surely my boss and all of the other seasoned wildlife professionals working at the office would find this a delightful little joke and I would get all sorts of kudos for bringing a moment of whimsy into the quiet routine of the station. How could this idea possibly fail? Well, let me tell you.
The secretary at the office was capable of typing at an astoundingly high speed, but she herself didn’t really know too much about birds. So, as she was transcribing my research notes into the official first draft of the book, she didn’t even blink an eye when she got to the clamsucker. I was later informed that she typed so fast that she didn’t really read what she was typing.
It wasn’t the secretary that caught my little prank and it wasn’t the secretary that spread the word about my awesome sense of humor. Instead, I was summoned to the boss’ office where he explained to me that he almost sent out the manuscript for peer review before noticing the clamsucker at the last moment. Embarrassment was only narrowly averted. Chastened and humbled, I said I was very sorry. Satisfied that I had learned my lesson, the boss sent me back to my work, but I think I did notice the faintest glint of humor in his eyes. Wrong time, wrong place, but still funny?
Think of my story as you contemplate your own pranks this April Fool’s Day. NPR once did a wonderfully stupid gag with a birdcall expert who started with birdcalls and ended up imitating a steam locomotive. The birdcalls were real, but the locomotive was just a recording. Still, they had me going for a while. Think of something clever, but don’t get too carried away, and whatever you do, don’t put it in someone else’s book.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 21 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service and Massachusetts State Parks and currently teaches high school biology and physics. Visit speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.