We saw our first Red Phalarope (Phalaropus fulicaria).

What a striking little bird! We observed a single bird, resplendent in its bright red breeding plumage, just south of the Inn at Morro Bay. A bit larger than the Red-necked Phalarope (phalaropus lobatus) that we see throughout the summer, this bird had a bright, brick-red body and neck, with white cheeks and a slightly thicker, light-colored bill. Alas, when I went to click the shutter, I came to the grim realization that the camera battery had been left in the kitchen on the charger. So now, unfortunately, I'm unable to post the excellent pictures that I didn't take of this beautiful little visitor to the Morro Bay Estuary.     

Needless to say, ever since, we have been on the lookout (battery IN camera) for the elusive Red Phalarope (above). To that end, Mike and I mounted an expedition into the marsh the other evening on an almost windless day, with a rising tide and a setting sun. It was a perfect afternoon for a paddle and we worked our way into the Los Osos Creek channel with the incoming tide. A small flock (6 or 7 birds) of Long-billed Curlew worked the last dry area of rapidly submerging alluvial fan to the south. A group of Snowy Egrets (below) fished and did their goofy dance just off to the shore of the marsh on the north.

Further up the channel we sighted two Red-necked Phalaropes (below), which we see every summer in pairs and small groups. None-the-less, this was the first pair we had seen this year. They were still in breeding plumage, which we don't often get a chance to see. Although the light was beginning to fade, we were able to get some pretty good images.

We continued up-channel as a group of Greater Scaup paddled upstream ahead of us. Like all ducks, they kept us at a distance. To the north, a pair of Red-tailed Hawks circled over the twin bridges, but the light was really beginning to fade as the sun dropped towards the sandspit. We reversed course and headed out of the marsh.

Now headed southwest, we were greeted by a beautiful orange sky. Just starboard, paralleling our course, a dorsal fin broke the surface and cruised alongside the outrigger. The small shark passed up as we paddled by the SLOSEA water monitoring station, crossing our bow and moving off to port. Looking ahead, a trio of Double-crested Cormorants paddled in front of us, silhouetted by the sunset. I raised the camera to snap a few images and, as I did so, the shark's dorsal fin came into view again, now on a course to intercept the Cormorants. The birds, alerted by the shark's fin and wake headed directly at them, didn't hang around. All three burst into flight, leaving the shark behind.

The Cormorants gone, the shark turned his attentions north towards a lone Clark's Grebe. The Grebe was in water too shallow for the shark to pursue, so paid little attention to the fin cruising just 20 feet away at the edge of the channel.

With the sun below the sandspit, twilight descended on the estuary. The bay's surface was like a mirror. With some good pics on the image card, we put our backs into it and headed back to the Pasadena Street landing, seeing how big a bow wave we could get the ama to throw.