A Scarlet Ibis Family in the Fish Bay Pond on St. John!

 






There’s a juvenile scarlet ibis that was born here! Now almost as big as its parents. 

And there may be more wandering around. My neighbors recently saw three babies in the pond with the parents. But I have only seen one young one since I returned a few weeks ago. 

What a thrill to see these birds up close. For six seasons my husband and I watched the one lonely ibis in Fish Bay, hoping that an appropriate mate would come. Based on previous photographs, I think the bird on the left is the resident male. His feathers are now looking a bit uneven in color, but that is probably due to molting, which usually happens after breeding season.  


I think the newcomer is the female, and a younger bird because of her not-fully-developed purplish neck feathers. The male and female adults have similarly colored feathers, but they don’t reach their full adult plumage for a few years. Their color comes from carotenoid pigments contained in the food they consume, including small crabs, shrimps and other invertebrates, as well as some types of seeds and insects. They use their long bills, which have sensitive tips, to probe in the mud for food.  


I heard reports of other ibises coming over to Fish Bay the summer before this. (They have all probably come from the flock introduced by Richard Branson on Necker Island in the British Virgin Islands.) However, there was only one ibis in the pond when we returned last fall. And the resident ibis continued to consort with a snowy egret, which had become a faithful companion, year after year.


Interestingly, the snowy egret is still there, now apparently as a family friend. And sometimes a very large yellow-crowned night heron also seems to be standing guard. 

 


A great egret has also taken an interest in the youngster. 


As well as a green heron that monitors all the activity on the pond. 


And a black-necked stilt insisted on being included in a family portrait.


The trees along the road have grown up so much it is hard to see into the pond now. The birds tend to stay far back in a corner by the big tree stump. To get a view of them my husband and I had to crawl down off the side of the road and creep along through the bushes into the mangroves along the edge of the pond. Lots of rain has made the ground soft and muddy, and to my dismay, one morning I ended up sliding down into the slimy mud on my butt. Fortunately I was able to keep my telephoto lens safe, and later went back with dry pants. 

We have mostly seen the ibises between 6:30 and 8:00 am. After that they usually disappear into the bush or fly off. However, there are many other birds using the pond throughout the day. Besides the ibises, egrets, stilts and green herons, we also saw little blue herons, lesser yellowlegs, spotted sandpipers and clapper rails.  

We recently learned that the Fish Bay conservation land, which includes this pond, has been bought by the V.I. government with a grant from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). It is to be held as a nature preserve by the V.I. Department of Planning and Natural Resource in a new Division of Territorial Parks and Protected Areas. The ownership of this area was in limbo for a number of years during which the land has been mostly untouched, except by the hurricanes. 

It will be wonderful for this new nature preserve status to ensure long-term protection for all the wild birds and other creatures living in the wetlands here. It would also be good to provide a low impact viewing space that will allow people to observe what’s going on in the pond without disturbing the wildlife. The platform on St. John at Frank Bay built by the V.I. Audubon Society could be a good model. 

The wetlands currently offer safe nesting spaces for a variety of birds. I was interested to see that both the scarlet ibis parents seemed to be taking care of the young one. I read that because of their long bills the newborn babies need help holding their heads up to get fed, so the feeding process requires two parents.  


The baby scarlet ibises are grey. Then they soon start growing pink wing feathers, along with black feathers for their wing tips. My husband refers to this one as ‘splotchy’


The young ibis occasionally keeps company with a chatty black-necked stilt instead of the parents.  


Possibly after a while the parents start to seem overbearing.


One day the scarlet ibis youngster may fly off to pursue its own adventures. But for now it is a welcome addition to the Fish Bay neighborhood. 


















Green Heron Observations

Green herons sit patiently and watch intently.  












Instead of thrashing around in the pond, sometimes it is better to just be still and quiet, waiting for an opportunity to arise. Like a fish swimming by. And then be ready to spring into action.

A green heron can move quickly and decisively when the time is right.

 






























Green herons are also famous for using tools - dropping leaves or bugs into the water to attract fish, then picking up and repositioning the bait as needed. Very smart. I have only seen videos of this, though. Maybe the green herons I’ve watched have had plenty of fish and didn’t need to work that hard. 

 


Sometimes patience is all you need to catch a big fish.


Often people make up names that are meant to be descriptive but don’t really fit. There aren’t really many green feathers on a ‘green’ heron. To me their back and head feathers look more blue, and their necks are rusty red.


 





























Those necks You can see better if you stick your neck out. 


And it can be convenient to just lean down and suck up a fish for dinner. 





But sometimes it’s good to blend into the background. Rusty striped neck and chest feathers can provide camouflage when the green herons are lurking by the edge of a pond.  




There are green herons that live in the Virgin Islands all year, and a few others that come down for the winter. The permanent residents live in the wetlands and make nests out of sticks, either on the ground or in trees. 



Usually the green herons keep their nests pretty well hidden. However, Laurel Brannick recently saw one with a nest in plain view, hanging out on a branch over the Francis Bay pond on St. John. 


Photo Laurel Brannick


The exposed location was probably not the best choice. Laurel thought she saw two chicks in the nest, but by the next week the nest was empty.  


Why Don’t Hermit Crabs Make Their Own Shells?

 

Hermit crabs have hard claws and legs, but soft abdomens they stick inside abandoned mollusk shells.

I enjoy having hermit crabs in the yard. They are known as soldier crabs in the Virgin Islands, but are not aggressive. They are generally cute and fun, and come by to snack on leftover cat food. 




Cats may not be so happy to see these intruders. But even if they catch a snacking hermit crab red-handed, they can’t do much damage to it when it's drawn up inside its shell. The hermit crab can stay inside its shell until the cat gets bored and leaves.  


 

Even when hermit crabs hide inside their shells, though, their legs and claws usually stick out some. As they grow larger, their legs and claws hang out further, and they have to start searching for a bigger shell.  

 

Recently I started to wonder why, after over 150 million years, hermit crabs are still scrounging around for discarded mollusk shells to cover their butts. 

 

Caribbean hermit crabs, or soldier crabs, (Coenobita clypeatus) commonly use cast-offs from West Indian Top Shells (Cittarium pica), otherwise known as whelks or wilks.

They are called ‘top shells’ because they resemble small spinning toys. 



 

West Indian Top Shells, like other marine snails, build an exterior exoskeleton through a process called biomineralization. They have an organ called a mantle that secretes a thin layer of protein as a base, followed by layers of calcium carbonate, which they create using carbon and calcium ions drawn from the seawater. The calcium carbonate then solidifies to make the hard shell. Later on, the mantle can add to the edge of the shell, so the same shell can grow as the snail gets bigger. 


Most crabs also use calcium carbonate to make hard shells for themselves that cover their whole bodies. But their shells are fitted to their legs and bodies, and not expandable. In a process called molting, as the crab grows bigger, it forms a new, thin exoskeleton cover underneath the existing shell, and breaks out of the old one. Once out, the crab then quickly makes the new, soft exoskeleton harder using calcium carbonate.    

 

Hermit crabs do the same kind of growing and molting as other crabs, but only their claws and legs get hardened up. The abdomen stays soft and the hermit crab needs to find a new larger shell to cover it. The shells provide protection from predators and also prevent them from getting dried out and cooking in the tropical sun. 


They do briefly take their shells off to mate. A male hermit crab will tap on a female’s legs to persuade her to come out and mate.   


 

Female hermit crabs make a group pilgrimage down to the shoreline to deposit their eggs in the water. There the eggs go through several free-floating phases of development before the baby hermit crabs start their transition to land. While in the water, they need to locate a discarded shell from a (dead) micro-mollusk, which are species of snails that remain tiny even as adults. Over time they will then work their way onto land and into ever larger shells.


Depending on finding abandoned shells from other dead animals seems pretty iffy as a life strategy, although it does allow successful hermit crabs to avoid spending a lot of energy building and maintaining their own mobile homes. They are renters, not owners, which in some situations can be an advantage. 

 

Still, the hermit crabs are heavily dependent on continued housing availability. There needs to be a large population of whelks – and intact shells left behind after they die or get eaten. In the Caribbean, an octopus or lobster will eat whelks, as well as bonefish, porcupinefish, and rock hinds. The whelks are also attractive to shorebirds like oystercatchers, which are locally known as whelk-crackers. And then there a number of people who collect whelks for stew. Supplies of whole, empty shells can quickly become limited. 

 

Hermit crabs are essentially recyclers, taking cast-off resources and reusing them, and in the process cleaning up the beaches. If they can’t find a shell that fits, they will sometimes end up wearing beach trash instead, which is a bit sad to see, but adaptive and enterprising of them. 

 

A hermit crab’s survival plan is also a bit poetic, as each temporary shelter it finds will carry a history of prior lives, which it will carry on its back, and then pass along.

 

 Small hermit crabs use shells other than top shells.


Laughing Gulls Try To Steal Fish From Brown Pelicans

  

A laughing gull landed right on top of this brown pelican.


I have seen laughing gulls drop down onto the backs of pelicans and try to grab fish as they fall from the edges of the pelicans’ pouches.   

 


A pelican swimming in water

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Sometimes fish do escape from a pelican’s mouth.

 

A pelican will fly high over the beach scanning for movement and then dive quickly down into the water, scooping up small fish in its pouch. Then it will lift its head to drain the seawater out of the sides of its pouch before swallowing its catch. That’s the moment when the laughing gull will try to snatch a fish.

  

A bird standing on a pelican

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A laughing gull needs to get very close to the pelican’s pouch to check for dropped fish.

 


I learned a catchy name for this behavior – kleptoparasitism. 

 

The laughing gulls can be quite intrusive but pelicans are large birds, and an angry pelican can deliver a sharp bite with the hook at the end of its beak – though not when its mouth is full.

 

A bird with a long beak in the water

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A pelican mostly uses its pouch like a fishing net.


 

And when a laughing gull approaches from behind, it is hard for the pelican to get the gull off its back.  


A bird standing on a bird's back

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Sometimes it looks like the laughing gull is getting into a mating position.

 


One passive pelican defensive strategy is to just keep its mouth closed until the laughing gull gets bored and goes away. 

 

  A bird in the water

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 Are they sharing feelings?

 


Another pelican strategy is to make itself look a big crazy turtle.  

 

 A bird flying over a bird

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 A laughing gull will eventually get fed up.

 


I find it hard to understand why the laughing gulls don’t just go catch their own fish. Are they just being lazy? 

 

Maybe, but this behavior actually seems to be an evolved strategy. A pelican can dive deeper and get more fish than a laughing gull. So a laughing gull that is able to get some of the pelican’s fish without too much trouble can be more successful – eating better, conserving its energy, and having more time for mating, nesting, or defending its territory. 


A bird standing on top of a buoy

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In the spring, laughing gulls often are busy mating on top of buoys.

 


It is actually not just laughing gulls that try to steal fish. I once saw a huge frigatebird at Maho Bay attack a small tern sitting on a buoy until it gave up the fish in its mouth. That was a violent form of theft. Also, up north, bald eagles will grab fish from ospreys in a mid-air display of their superior strength.  

 

The laughing gulls can’t take a fish from the pelican by force so, while annoying, they are probably not really scary. And, to an observer, they do look pretty funny riding on the pelicans. 

 

A bird sitting on a pelican

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A waiting game

Kapok Seeds Fly Off in Fluff Balls


 

Fuzzy kapok fluff contains small seeds. 


After witnessing the weeks-long spectacle of a kapok tree (Ceiba pentandra) attracting a mob of bats to pollinate its flowers (see my May 17, 2025, VI Source article if you missed it), I kept going back to see what would happen next. 

 

After the bats come to eat the nectar inside the flowers, and consequently spread the pollen around to other flowers, the flowers fall off. Then the kapok tree’s seeds begin developing inside the cup-like structures where the ovaries are located. 


A close up of a flower

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The spaces left where flowers fall are soon filled with developing seed pods.

  

 

Since there are lots of flowers on the tree, and they aren’t all pollinated at once, some of the seed pods start growing sooner than others. At first, the pod is green and looks like a tiny zucchini. When it gets bigger, the pod turns brown and hard. 



A close up of a plant

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Successfully pollinated flowers go on to produce seed pods. 

 

 

I kept going back to see how the pods were developing but it was many weeks before I saw any of them opening up. Eventually they started cracking open lengthwise, and I could see rows forming inside that from a distance looked like kernels of corn growing on the cob.


 

A close-up of a plant

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The expanding fibers around the seeds pushed open the pods.

 

  

After the pod’s hardened skin dropped off, you could see that the ‘kernels’ were actually soft. Soon wisps of the compressed fibers started getting loose as the wind caught them.  


A close-up of a tree branch

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The fibers around the seeds kept expanding once they were free of the pod.

 

 

For a while the tree looked like it was decorated with round puff balls. While many other types of trees get their seeds distributed by producing tasty fruits for birds and animals to eat and deliver to another spot that might be favorable for germination and growth, the kapok trees instead send their seeds floating off on fluffy parachutes. 



A tree with no leaves

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The kapok tree didn’t use up its energy growing new leaves until the seed development process was over. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 













 


As the fibers got fuzzier and kept expanding and getting looser, some of them kept their ‘kernel’ shape, just growing bigger and softer. Later, they lost it entirely and completely unraveled. Then you could see that there were small, dark seeds attached to the fibers. Because of these fibers, the tree is also sometimes called a ‘silk cotton’ tree.  

 

A close-up of a teddy bear

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 A light waxy layer on the kapok fluff makes it shiny and water repellent.

 

 

For many years the kapok fibers were prized by people for use in life jackets and life preservers because they are very light and buoyant and do not absorb water. At the same time, the fluffy fibers trap air, so they retain heat and are useful for insulation and bedding. Over time, people started using synthetic substitutes, but there has been some interest in kapok again as a natural, non-allergenic fiber.   

 

The primary purpose of the light-weight fluff, however, is to transport the little seeds through the air to a space far away from the mother tree where another such huge tree could possibly grow and thrive.   

 

Unfortunately for many of the seeds, and the homeowners nearby, much of the fluff ends up just falling close to the tree, on top of other trees and bushes, or smothering the existing ground cover plants.  

A close-up of a plant

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Globs of fallen fluff can end up covering the ground and other plants.


 

I hope that some of the seeds do reach a good place for them to grow, so there can be more of these wonderful trees around to support local wildlife, and to delight human observers as well. 

Viewing Seabirds on Offshore Cays with St. John Students

 


The students got a close look at a Royal Tern sitting on a post in Cruz Bay. 

Third graders from Gift Hill School had a chance to check out summer seabirds congregating around Congo Cay, Lovango and Carvel Rock through a V.I. Audubon Society program supporting education about local birds. The school bird program just began this year and is expected to soon include classes in other grades and schools. 

Last summer the third-grade teacher, Mrs. Wallace, attended a Birds Sleuth training course offered by the BirdsCaribbean network and then put together a curriculum plan appropriate for her students. 

V.I. Audubon board member Laurel Brannick was the trip leader. Laurel served as a National Park Ranger on St. John for 30 years before retiring, and now offers regular Friday morning bird walks at Francis Bay, as well as Thursday evening slide shows at Cinnamon Bay Campgrounds. 

I went along on the boat trip to try to get photos of the migratory birds that come to the small islands off St. John during the summer months to make their nests.  

In April, we usually start seeing black-headed Laughing Gulls arriving along the beaches of St. John from other areas in the Caribbean. They are attracted by the abundance of small fry fish at this time of year, and the relative safety of the uninhabited offshore islands for nesting. 

Laughing Gulls 

In May, the gulls are joined by flocks of graceful Roseate Terns with mostly black bills. 

Roseate Terns 

Sometimes the Laughing Gulls and Roseate Terns hang out together to fish along St. John shorelines. 

Laughing Gull sharing a rock with three Roseate Terns 

Soon, however, both types of birds start thinking about nesting, and then the Roseate Terns try to stay away from the Laughing Gulls, concerned about attacks on their chicks. 

Roseate Terns nesting on cliff on Congo Cay

Close to the top of Carvel Rock we also spotted other related nesting seabirds I hadn’t seen before – Bridled Terns.  

Bridled Terns rarely come close to the shore of St. John

The highlight of the trip for me was when Laurel pointed out a couple of birds flying way up in the clouds and said she thought they were tropicbirds. These have been sort of mythical birds for me because I had never seen them on St. John, even though some people have reported seeing them from boats or flying around the rocky cliffs.  

The birds Laurel pointed out looked like large terns with just the slightest trace of the long ribbon-like tails the tropicbirds are known for. I took a couple of shots with my telephoto lens, but didn’t have high hopes for good results given their distance from us, the cloudiness of the day and the rocking boat. Still, I did manage to get an image of what seemed to be a Red-billed Tropicbird, which made my day. 

Red-billed Tropicbirds are more common here than the white-tailed ones. 

I probably enjoyed the boat trip more than anyone, because I was able to use my camera lens to zoom in on the birds. But the students did get a chance to see the remote places where seabirds hang out around St. John, and maybe will want to learn more about what the birds are doing out there. One of the students remarked on the beauty of the undeveloped cliffs along Congo Cay, and Laurel emphasized how important it is to preserve at least some spaces just for birds and other wildlife.