I had just returned from a trip to New York when a friend
stopped me in the grocery store and excitedly told me about that morning’s bird
walk at Francis Bay. A pair of normally
elusive clapper rails were not only visible that day, but actually began mating
in plain view!
Of course I was jealous. I wanted to run right out there and
see for myself. But you can’t expect birds to perform on demand, especially not
ones that are normally so shy.
Clapper rails mostly live in swampy coastal areas. On St.
John they stay low down in mangrove wetlands, walking around (they rarely fly)
and using their long thin bills to pick up crabs, insects and small fish.
Supposedly the saying “thin as a rail” refers to their ability to slip through
small spaces in a tangle of intertwined roots. They tend to lurk in the
shadows, and their coloring helps provide even more camouflage. They have loud
voices though, and are more often heard than seen.
Except, it seems, during courtship. Like other birds and
animals, a male clapper rail may have to behave aggressively and even fight
over suitable nesting territory in order to attract females.
Once he has established his position, however, he can become
less pugnacious and more seductive. According to the Audubon Field Guide,
during courtship the male clapper rail approaches the female, points his bill
down, and swings his head from side to side. He may also adopt attractive manly
poses, for example, standing erect with his neck stretched and his bill open.
The male might also offer the female something to eat.
Crustaceans are a favorite food, and there are lots of red fiddle crabs living
in the mud surrounding the ponds. The male clapper rail could probably entice a
female with some of these feisty little guys.
The clapper rail couple builds a monogamous bond through
working together on building a nest, protecting the eggs and rearing their
brood. As part of the courtship and
mating process, some clapper rails will even work on synchronizing their calls,
so they sound like only one voice.
We hear clapper rails calling all the time near our house.
When we walk down by the black mangrove pond, the clattering they make in their
throats sounds like a sudden burst of applause – thank you, thank you – or
perhaps more likely, alarm. Either way, everyone knows you are there.
Sometimes it is so loud you think there must be hundreds of
them around, though probably there are only a few making all that noise. Still,
we can’t be sure because they mostly hide down among the mangrove roots,
camouflaged and out of sight.
One group of
researchers at Stanford suggested that the rails can get so used to being
invisible within their normal habitat that they don’t realize they can be seen
when they come out in the open. So what might seem like boldness or
indifference to discovery may actually be lack of understanding that they are
exposing themselves to viewers.
Visibility can be a problem because some people like to do
more than watch. Clapper rails are also called marsh hens because they are
about the size of chickens and have a similar taste which, at least in the
past, has made them attractive to hunters.
