Winter is duck season. At this time of year, Novato, Marin, and the Bay Area fill up with an impressive diversity and abundance of these wide-billed, web-footed floaters. They’re easy to find in any substantial body of water – and often less substantial ones too – and although in some cases they may be a little distant from us landlocked observers, they don’t dash away into the trees and hide the way small songbirds often do, making them a good introductory field in which a newcomer to the world of birds can spread the wings of her identification skills.
Today, I’m going to move quickly through an overview of our local species, focusing on the most important things: identifying the ducks we have here, illustrating them with the loveliest pictures I can find, and plumgudgeoning them by drawing on the rich heritage of regional and folk names. Tricky little songbirds of difficult identification, lovable as they may be, were often insufficiently familiar to the unbinoculared masses to garner many such names, while the world of ducks yields traditional appellations as stirring as butternose, fizzy, iron pot, tar bucket, sleepy diver, smutty coot, and pumpkin blossom. And that’s just for scoters!
The joys of the smoky pies and the ladybird crackers await you. But first, let me clear up a few practical matters and basics of the web-footed world.
What’s a duck and what’s not? Ducks are ducks. Swans and geese are not (though they join the ducks among the “waterfowl,” they are distinct groups with longer necks and fathers that help raise the young, unlike male ducks who entirely ignore their parental duties). Coots and gallinules are not (note their unwebbed “chicken feet” and small, narrow bills), grebes are not (not with those bizzare webbed toes), and loons are not (ducks don’t have daggers for bills). Maybe I’ll do a follow-up at some point on “other swimming birds,” because they are often viewed in the same places and also often receive interesting traditional names, but today’s nearly 20 species should keep us busy enough just sticking to the family of swimming, web-footed, wide-billed, short-necked, single-mothered and absentee-fathered birds of the family Anatidae.
When are they here? I simplified a little in saying “winter is duck season.” But that is the predominant truth. We have only a few ducks that breed here in spring, most notably the abundant mallards, along with a smattering of gadwalls, common mergansers, and perhaps a teal here or there (see my article on Seeing Baby Birds for some tips on seeing cute, fuzzy little waterbirds of these and other types). Many ducks start appearing from the north around August, build up substantially in September and October, and a few later species continue to arrive through November and into December. Most then head back north between March and early May.
If they don’t breed here, shouldn’t they be going into their dull plumage when they get here in fall? Why does my field guide show a pretty colorful plumage and a dull brown one, and yet they all seem to be in their fancy outfits? Switching to a dull, camouflaged set of feathers in winter, outside of the springtime need for finery, is an understandable expectation that we see realized in some common backyard songbirds like golden-crowned sparrows or American goldfinches. But ducks work on a different schedule. After breeding, males abandon the females, find some nice quiet lake somewhere, and change into their nonbreeding or “eclipse” plumage, which they then wear for several weeks, including some weeks of flightlessness. When some ducks first get down here in September or so, you may indeed see them in some stage of eclipse plumage, but they soon complete their molt back into their colorful breeding plumage. This is because ducks perform courtship and pair up on the wintering grounds: in spring, males will travel with their mates to the female birds’ northern breeding territories.
That’s the general story among most of our ducks, who travel north to breed in spring. Our one common resident duck, the mallard, offers an opportunity to see the full cycle more fully: you’re probably familiar with the pleasant green heads of the drakes, worn for most of the year, but if you take a superficial glance at mallards sometime around August you may wonder with puzzlement why they all look like females. It’s a trick! The males are just going low profile in their eclipse plumage (careful observers can still tell them apart by bill color).
Speaking of plumage and potential identification confusion: Many ducks have a “speculum,” a colored patch of feathers in the wing, sometimes surmounted by a shoulder patch of another color. These are often useful identification features in flight, and sometimes on swimming birds, but be aware that a corner of the speculum may or may not be visible depending on the position of the wing feathers.
What are our best local duck viewing sites? Smallish, encircled ponds like Las Gallinas in San Rafael or Ellis Creek in Petaluma are good places to get close to a variety of species. Bigger wetlands like Rush Creek or Hamilton (and the adjacent Pacheco Pond) hold lots of ducks, though some of them are farther away. The Bahia Lagoon is a hotspot for winter goldeneyes, along with scaups and a smattering of others. San Rafael’s Loch Lomond Marina has some common ducks close in, but is also our nearest place to potentially see some more coastal species like surf scoters on the deeper waters of the bay (that’s the only likely coastal duck, but you can also see coast-favoring cormorant, grebe, and gull species). Beyond our ten mile radius or so, you can explore ducks elsewhere in Marin at the Corte Madera Marsh (blue-winged teal hotspot), Rodeo Lagoon, Bolinas Lagoon, and Abbotts Lagoon. Certain ducks and other waterbirds can also be seen at most coastal beaches.
Ducks of Northeast Marin Part I: The Dabblers
If you want to break up the ducks into a few groups to avoid one giant confusion of a list, the most common dividing point is between the dabbling, or surface-feeding, ducks and the diving ducks. Dabbling ducks most commonly feed by straining food from the upper levels of the water or by tipping their butts in the air while their bill works down below, though some species will sometimes dive. Their feet are relatively near the center of their body, making them capable of waddling about on land fairly comfortably. Most of our dabbling ducks are closely related and show a consequent similarity of shape: all but the wood duck are in the same taxonomic genus, Anas.
1. Mallard
Notes: You know the green-headed males. On females, note the relatively strong eyeline compared to most other species. Mallards are our most familiar duck and the only one present all year-round in large numbers. This circumstance should be taken not as license to ignore them, but as an invitation to enjoy watching their cute, fuzzy babies from May through August.
Alternative Monickers: Greentop, greenhead, frosty-beak.
(“Monicker” is how it’s spelled in that high point of American scholarship “Facetious Monickers for American Birds” (McAtee 1956). Such a spelling is indeed more inherently facetious than “moniker” or “name.” Incidentally, I drew some of my names from that article, some from Dawson’s 1923 Birds of California, and most from my treasured compendium of North American Bird Folknames and Names by James Kedzie Sayre.)
2. Gadwall
Notes: Males have a dark rump; both sexes have little white squares in the wing (the speculum), sometimes visible. In much of Marin, gadwalls take a distant second place for ducks you might see in summer, as well as becoming abundant in winter. Breeding gadwall are an uncommon but not unheard of Bay Area phenomenon, while you can usually find a few non-breeding birds scattered around.
Alternative Monickers: What does “gadwall” mean anyways? Well, the same thing as gadwell, blarting duck, and bleating duck: they talk well.
3. American Wigeon
Notes: In a nicely lit picture, the male’s head shows a clear green eye patch, but from many angles these luminescent feathers may appear dark or colorless. The “bald” patch on the front of the forehead is a little easier to see, but also subject to variable lighting. On males, look also for the dark rump bordered by white.
Alternative Monickers: Baldpate, baldcrown, and baldy all echo a common theme.
4. Northern Shoveler
Notes: One of the easiest ducks to recognize due to the extremely large (“spatulate”) bill and distinct set of colors: dark green head, white breast and rump, reddish flanks. To begin developing attentiveness to the shape of different ducks, start with female shovelers and find those shovel mouths.
Alternative Monickers: All people can talk about are those big bills. Broadface, scooper, shovelbill, shovelmouth, spoonbill, spoony, and (my favorite) soup-lips.
5. Northern Pintail
Notes: Males have long necks adorned with an elegant white stripe, as well as their namesake pintail. This might be the next dabbler to practice recognizing by shape alone: the long neck is usually perceptible on both sexes.
Alternative Monickers: Kitetail, tinpail, lady-bird, cracker, long-necked cracker. I’m guessing “lady-bird” refers to their elegant carriage and “cracker” to the sound of their calls. Though who knows, I could be wrong on either count. I find the neologistic amalgamation of “ladybird cracker” particularly pleasant to my ears and imagination. When I referred to this duck by this name in a text to my friend Corrina, she attempted to solve the eternal mystery of “what is Jack talking about?” with the aid of Google Images. She was unable to complete the identification, however, reporting that her search returned only photos of “bug-shaped hors d’oeuvres.” Which has really cemented “ladybird cracker” as my preferred name for the species.
6. Green-winged Teal
Notes: All of the previous dabblers were sizable birds, but green-wings are the smallest of all our ducks and are dwarfed by neighboring shovelers and the like. On males, look for the pretty red-brown head with green eye patch and vertical white spur on shoulder.
Alternative Monickers: Greenie, redhead, greased lightning, and congo. No idea what congo means. At one period in history, some ironical Wisconsinites called them “sparrows” due to their small size.
7. Cinnamon Teal
Notes: Males are an unmistakable rich, dark cinnamon all over. Females can be a bit tricky, but they are bigger and bigger billed than green-winged teal, with a relatively plain face. It’s usually not an issue though: cinnamons are less common overall and they’ll often be in a pretty clear little group of males and females together. That is of course the most widely practiced method of female duck identification: identify the male next to it and call it whatever that bird is.
Alternative Monickers: “Red teal” is about all I’ve got. “Cinnamon” meets near universal approval.
8. Wood Duck
Notes: Uncommon in our area, but unomittably glorious. Wood ducks breed regularly at Five Brooks Pond at Point Reyes and then pop up here and there in winter. As their name suggests, they like relatively woodsy, sheltered areas and in fact nest in tree cavities. This is the only one of our dabblers not in the fairly uniform genus Anas (they’re an Aix).
Alternative Monickers: “The Bride” or bridal duck, due to what I believe is a combination of general dressed-up loveliness and the similarity of the white facial markings to a “bridle.” Words will blur together like that. In addition to their official name, their woodsy habitats have given them names like acorn duck, canard du bois, swamp duck, tree duck, and woody.
Divers
The diving ducks are a much more diverse lot than the dabblers, representing several different genera, with consequently more variation in shape, size, and feeding habits. As a general rule, diver feet are farther back on the body, which is appropriate for underwater propulsion, but extremely awkward for toddling about on land – you won’t see these birds walking around as mallards might. While all of the below are capable underwater feeders, most will also feed from the surface when needed.
1. Canvasback
Notes: Red heads and black breast, with back and flanks of canvas white. Pretty straightforward. Females echo the pattern more palely.
Alternative Monickers: Canvasback is a pretty nice name, abbreviatable to can, canny, canvas, or whiteback. Or you could talk about the contrasting element of their plumage by calling them copper-heads. Or you could talk about some unknown-to-me-but-still-linguistically-appealing quality by calling them hickory-quakers.
2. Scaup
Notes: Officially, we have both greater and lesser scaup, distinguishable by roundness of head and slight differences in color (in that rare and elusive state known as “consistent lighting”). But most normal people have better things to do with their time. In general, recognize males by their dark heads, breast, and rump contrasting with whitish sides and gray backs. Females have a distinctive white patch by the base of their bill.
Alternative Monickers: Blackhead, blackjack, grayback, or white-faced duck describe plumage. Laker, raft duck, troop duck describe their proclivity for forming sizeable flocks on large bodies of water: you can see those big rafts or troops on the open waters of San Francisco Bay. “Scaup,” by the way, is pronounced “skop” and comes from a Scottish word for a bed of mussels, a preferred food item for ducks of this kind.
3. Ring-necked Duck
Notes: Ring-necks are reminiscent of their relatives the scaups, but have a number of distinguishing features. The “ring-neck” is often utterly invisible in the field (see why I question those official bird-namers?), but they do also have a ring around the bill. In fact, they have two: one at the base and one at the tip. They also have gray flanks (darker than scaup), a black back (much darker than scaup), and a white spur around the shoulder.
Alternative Monickers: “Ringbill” is the obvious one. As with the similarly dark-headed scaups, they can be known as blackheads and blackjacks. And then there’s “bunty” and “bastard broadbill,” neither of which sounds particularly complimentary.
4. Goldeneye
Notes: Ah, yes, the only duck to give a title to a James Bond movie. We actually have two goldeneyes, conventionally known as the common goldeneye and Barrow’s goldeneye, but Barrow’s are pretty scant, with a handful of them found at our local hotspot at the Bahia Lagoon among the few hundred commons that winter there. Both are distinctive, with dark heads punctuated by golden eyes and white face markings (a circle on commons, a crescent on Barrow’s), as well as a generally bold pattern of black and white. Females have brown heads and mostly gray backs. Goldeneyes arrive quite late, not really becoming numerous until December, but are well worth seeking out, particularly when they engage in their yoga-inspired courtship displays shown here.
Alternative Monickers: Brasseye, brass-eyed whistler, and black and white diver describe their appearance. Jingler, whistler, and merry-wing describe their sound. And pie bird, pie duck, and smoky pie describe their traditional culinary fate.
5. Bufflehead
Notes: Buffleheads, although they have the heads of buffalos, are very small ducks. Females have black heads with a white cheek patch.
Alternative Monickers: “Bufflehead” can be given its unabbreviated form of “buffalo-head.” Their cephalic grandeur can also be evoked in rather grandeur-denying names like bighead or woolhead. Or you can take your pick from black-and-white, bumble bee duck, pocket dipper, or butter-box.
6. Ruddy Duck
Notes: Exception alert! Ruddy ducks actually do follow a “normal bird” pattern of molt that I told you ducks ignore: they show up in fall in full breeding glory of rusty, ruddy red and blue bills, then drop their finery for the winter before resuming chromatic vibrancy in spring. The winter plumage does keep an identifiable trace of that outfit: you can always look for a light cheek patch to recognize males. Females have a dark line across a somewhat paler cheek.
Alternative Monickers: The ruddies are rich, rich in monickers. Several focus on their habit of cocking their tail: cock-tail, quill-tail, spike-tail, stiff-tail, and the charming stub-and-twist. Other behaviors merit names too: they noisily slap the surface of the water to take off as paddy-whacks and they often adopt a lethargic pose as sleepyheads. Some remark upon their compact proportions: bumble-bee buzzer, chunk duck, biddy, dicky, dinky, dopper, and dumpling duck. Unless that last one is about eating them. Finally, many note the handsome insouciance of their spring uniforms: dapper, leather breeches, and little soldier. Cornucopian indeed are dinky’s titles.
7. Common and Red-breasted Mergansers
Notes: I’m combining these two species under one heading because they share a generally similar color palette and array of folk names. And because I’m getting tired of sourcing pictures. Commons favor freshwater (they breed on the reservoir lakes of Mount Tam and are common winter birds at Las Gallinas), while red-breasteds favor saltwater. On average. In both, males have dark green heads, surmounting a white breast on commons and a red-breast on red-breasted, obviously. Females have rather fluffy brown heads in both cases, but it’s a rich dark cinnamon that contrasts with a white chin and upper breast, while red-breasted females have paler crests of less distinct contrast.
Alternative Monickers: Merganser is a funny word, adapted from the Latin mergus (a loon) + anser (a goose). Back in the old country, birds of a somewhat similar appearance were known as sheldrakes or shelducks, and that word was sometimes adopted for these birds on our continent. Other options for both include big sawbill, big fish duck, tweezer, or hairyhead.
8. Hooded Merganser
Notes: As with the wood duck above, we’re rounding out the section with a not-very-common but very special-looking bird. “Hoodies” are much smaller than the other two mergansers and pretty unmistakable. At a glance, the most similar are buffleheads, but the white of the male crest is here enclosed by black. It is a highly mutable crest, capable of being alternately depressed or fanned to enormous proportion. All the mergansers share a trait of narrow “sawbills” with teeth-like protuberances for grasping slippery fish and other prey. Hoodies are scattered on small ponds and creeks in winter.
Alternative Monickers: Most of their names focus on their magnificent crests: cottonhead, cottontop, fanhead, fuzzhead, mosshead, pickax sheldrake, or simply pickaxe. You can also distinguish them from the two “big sawbills” above, calling them simply “little sawbills.”
Header photo: Common goldeneyes displaying by Eric Ellingson.
Bravo on the duck jargon. Dabble-babble and dive-jive!
Another hit out of the park!! Thanks, Jack!
Thanks Chris and Nadine! I’m glad you enjoyed the monickers!
Wonderful article, thank you