8 T HE VALU"D U-B-OIN@B UU Di Geieiae 
Florida Audubon Tours 
By LILLIAN CRAMP 
SIX MEMBERS of our local (Fort Lauderdale) Audubon Society went on each 
of the tours this year. The first one, which came early in March, was to 
Tavineer, on Key Largo. The boat was to leave Tavineer at ten o’clock, so 
we started at seven, doing some birding on the hundred mile drive down. 
We saw a flock of wood ibises, the usual herons and egrets, hawks, and such 
birds as may be seen from a rapidly moving car. The smaller birds just 
don’t register under such conditions. 
When we got to Tavineer we found a strong wind blowing and storm 
warnings up. Fortunately for my peace of mind and enjoyment of the trip, 
I didn’t realize that the tattered red flag flying from the one rooming house 
meant storm signal. The captain was dubious about taking more than four 
because of the rough weather, but we were being eaten up by mosquitoes, 
our stockings all blood spattered, so we were not keen on waiting for a 
second boat load. We finally compromised, agreeing to keep two of our party 
down in the cabin for balance—or ballast! Our main objectives were two 
small islands where the spoonbills are making their last stand in Florida. 
We anchored off shore of the first one, and the captain struck the top of the 
boat sharply with his hand to scare the birds up. I saw one big pink bird 
rise and shouted to the others. Then six more flew up and circled around. 
Some of us had cameras and we were so excited that one member tried to 
take his pictures without removing the lens-cap! 
Meanwhile we had been seeing one and two man-o’-war-birds, close 
enough to get the white throat of the females and immatures. There were a 
few of the great white herons, too, close to the island. They are seen only 
down on the Keys. The captain looked over each sandbar carefully for a 
possible reddish egret. But the wind was too strong. We went on to the 
second island, where a warden stays during the breeding season to study the 
habits and enemies of the spoonbills in the hope of adding to their numbers. 
But there were only four young birds this year. Storms had destroyed their 
nests. Last year, small Florida raccoons came across at low tide and ate 
the eggs. 
Some of our party went in by our small rowboat to see and talk with 
the warden. He is glad of company. He lives in a tent on a platform set 
high on posts. It is a mangrove island and the trees grow in water, standing 
up on their long roots at low tide. He has no place to walk except on his 
landing platform. There are only 26 birds in the colony and we saw 17, 
which was not bad. Over this island a flock of 30 man-o’-war-birds were 
floating, with no motion of the wings. Someone asked the captain if they 
were watching for fish. He said “No, they are just settin’ up there restin’. 
They set there by the hour.” I got as much of a thrill out of them as in 
seeing the spoonbills. They are powerful flyers, and, though not much 
larger than a cormorant, they have a wing spread of from seven to eight 
feet. Because of this enormous length of wing they are said to be unable to 
take off from water and so never light on the water. 
