A Visiting White-winged Scoter

If it lives in the park pond and quacks like a duck, it must be a duck. What is it then if it fails to quack and lives in the pounding surf of a winter sea? Of course, it is a sea duck, a duck that dives deep and flies far, a duck as wild as the ocean and as fearless.

As the air turns cold and the wide sea waters roil into a frenzy that crashes on the land in endless waves, then the sea ducks return to New England. They have been on parental leave in the far north, in the grasses and forests of interior Canada, or on the barren rocky islands beside the Arctic Sea.

The closest most people come to these birds is when they snuggle down for the night on a down pillow or comforter. True down is collected from the nests of the best-known sea duck, the eider. The mother eider duck plucks the softest feathers from her breast and lines her nest with it to keep the young warm when she is gone.

The eider duck is the largest sea duck in North America, but only slightly smaller are three species of ducks known as scoters. The eider almost never strays far from the ocean at any time, but the scoters breed around the bogs and lakes of inland tundra and forests, and must migrate over land to reach the ocean.

One of the three is called the white-winged scoter, which breeds only in western Canada and must fly high, fast and far to reach the stormy Atlantic coast. Some tire or encounter foul weather, so they must stop at larger lakes along the way.

Then you will find rafts of 50-100 or even several hundred in the middle of the reservoir, packed together as close as possible and whirling around in a maelstrom of bodies. These restless rafts are perhaps the result of nervous energy, for the birds have little to eat here and are anxious to resume their journey.

Two weeks ago, there were three white-winged scoters on Lake Congamond in Southwick, an adult male with two immatures. They were swimming wildly around the more sedate black ducks and mallards that usually populate the pond in November. The black ducks are misnamed, being different shades of darker brown, lighter on the head.

The large, bright wing patch of the white winged scoter is prominent in flight, but often hidden on a swimming bird. Then the adult male plumage becomes a very cool costume, entirely jet black except for a white eye patch that curls up in a swatch behind the eye, giving the bird the appearance of a cape clad Zorro, peering mysteriously from behind a mask. One nickname the hunter's use for this species is 'half-moon eye.'

These ducks once were once hunted from boats on the coast, but rarely now, since they have a strong fishy taste that makes them unpalatable unless there is a cook who knows how to prepare the bird properly. When migrating low over the outer surf in long strings, they are easy marks for a gunner.

Their lack of fear of man earned them another name of 'dumb duck.' They are not dumb, but they are usually silent, the white-wing uttering a low quiet quack from deep in the gut. This is heard rarely and only on the breeding grounds.

All winter, the white-winged scoter can be found feeding in small groups along the Massachusetts coastline, diving deep to find the mussels that are attached to underwater rocks beneath the pounding surf. Unlike other ducks that dive, they extend their wings part way for added propulsion and steering, being able to descend to depths of forty feet or more.

Look for this masked marauder whenever you visit the cold coast, for it will be there, just off the ledges or beaches, riding the waves. Don't mistake him for the gentle and tasty black duck, who holds his head high and dabbles in the shallow mud flats. The white-winged scoter is long and sleek, head held low, giving an impression of power and prowess as it prepares to dive deep for its dinner.