Batumi Raptor Count

Sunrise in Sakhalvasho

This summer and autumn I had the opportunity to work with the Batumi Raptor Count, a monitoring project that counts birds of prey as they migrate through Batumi. Birds from northern Europe and Russia fly through, headed to anywhere from Sub-Saharan Africa to Turkey, and birds that don't like to fly over the sea congregate in a narrow area near Batumi, west of the mountains and east of the Black Sea. The BRC counts certain migratory raptor species as they fly through every autumn, and has been doing so for 11 years, collecting data for scientific research, educating the public, and working on various other projects. They count over a million raptors every year, a hard-to-imagine number, even having witnessed a lot of it!

Casual morning views from Shuamta

Because of my school schedule, I couldn't make it for the required two-week stay all at once, so I volunteered to count for a week at the end of August, a weekend in September, and then a few days in October. While this isn't the standard counter experience, it was nice for me to see the different types of birds (lots of honey buzzards in August, eagles in September, steppe buzzards in October), and to meet almost all of the other counters, who come from all over Europe, plus another American and one from Mexico. Due to a preponderance of counters and coordinators from the Netherlands, in addition to learning a lot about birds, I also learned much more than I ever knew about Suriname. It was fun to be in a group of people from so many different places, and with so many people so passionate about birds. There was a conversation entirely made up of funny stories about gulls.

A Chinese Screw Orchid, a native orchid species on the stairs to the Shuamta station.

The BRC counts from two hilltops just outside of Batumi, in the villages of Sakhalvasho and Shuamta. Counters stay with families in the villages and eat breakfast and dinner there, with packed lunch to eat on the station. The families I stayed with were both very sweet, and delighted to have someone that spoke Georgian around. Sakhalvasho is across from the Mtsvane Kontskhi (Green Cape), a lush bit of the coast that contains the Batumi Botanical Garden, and overlooks the sea. The hills are full of terraced mandarin orchards, and at night, despite the proximity to the city, the sky is alive with bats and birds and you can hear the jackals howl. Shuamta is deeper into the mountains, up a windy road past old tea plantations, and the house we stay in is basically at the end of the road - no traffic, just trees and cows.

Shuamta's inexplicable coffee shop.

Tourists birdwatching from the cafe in the middle of nowhere, Shuamta.

A typical count day begins with pre-dawn breakfast (I can't eat that early, so I would take breakfast to the station, where some sneaky station animal would try to steal it), and then a 15 or 20 minute uphill trek to get to the station for sunrise. In August the count ran from about 6 am to 6 pm, which was brutal, but the days were significantly reduced by the middle of October, when the count ended. The first hours were often slow, but beautiful enough that no one minded staring at the empty sky for a while. This was a good time to pet the dogs or cat that often joined us in the morning. As the day warmed up birds would begin streaming by, including massive groups of buzzards, lines of Black Kites, more solitary eagles, falcons, Chaffinches, European Rollers, and my new favorite bird, the European Bee-Eater. Bee Eaters are a lovely colorful bird with the most cheerful, burbling call. Some days were full of birds, with over 100,000 birds counted on a least one day, and some days were much slower - just a few hundred birds, with 7 people counting for 8 hours or something like that. Lots of time to think your thoughts and admire the sea then. I got my first sunburn in a few years, since I showed up to stand in the sun for about 72 hours with no hat, sunglasses, or sunscreen. I came a little better prepared for my next two visits. Days ended with a beer, a review of who saw what at which station, a delicious dinner, and then either everyone going to sleep immediately, an educational session (in case you want to learn about Egyptian Vulture conservation in Bulgaria or whatever), or everyone going to the "bar" in Sakhalvasho, for strawberry chacha and beer drunk while sitting on tree stumps.

Station dog, Sakhalvasho.

The actual counting is more or less what you'd expect. There's an imaginary line running from the mountains to the coast, and counters count birds as they cross it. The BRC mostly counts migratory birds that don't really have resident populations in the area, so the chance of counting the same bird multiple times is reduced. Walkie talkie communication and distance codes and other techniques help ensure that birds aren't counted by both stations, and coordinators at each station assign roles to make sure everything goes smoothly. Most of the birds are very far away, birds that I on my own would probably have written off as "some bird," but the more experienced counters and the people with fancy equipment, are very good at identifying things that look to me like fleas hopping on distant clouds. The BRC does do some evening sessions on how to ID different types of birds, but a lot of those were beginning at a level slightly beyond mine - like how to differentiate harrier species, while I needed to learn what a harrier was. I tried. Sometimes they would ask for someone to just click numbers of birds flying by while someone else did the species (and sometimes also the age and sex and color). That I could do, especially if the birds were near enough to be seen with the naked eye, and I always felt quite accomplished after counting even a small stream of birds. Just as I was beginning to feel like I could ID a few of the most common species though, the count was over. I understand why they ask for a two-week commitment.

Right before it starts burning your eyes out, Shuamta.

Volunteering with the BRC also gave me several opportunities to teach Georgian students about birds, conservation, and the BRC project. I brought a group of students from my school to Shuamta, visited the Sakhalvasho school for some guest lessons, and even visited Kolkheti National Park with a group of young falconers, though in that case I think I learned more from them. I also attended a presentation entirely in Georgian on the topic of sturgeon conservation, which I actually understood most of, a nice feeling for sure.

The Kolkheti Wetlands reminded me a lot of New Orleans.

Not a lot of birds in the middle of the day, but I saw three kingfishers, Kolkheti National Park.

Dock dog, Kolkheti National Park.

The school that I teach at, in the mountains of Adjara about 2.5 hours from Sakhalvasho, is very small, with only 40 pupils, and does not have a lot of resources, especially with regards to their science curriculum. Almost all of their learning is from textbooks, with few opportunities for fun and hands-on experience. Because of that, being able to visit the Batumi Raptor Count was a very exciting experience for my students and the two Georgian teachers that came with us. While there were not so many birds in early October, they were happy to use the binoculars and scopes to look out at Kobuleti and Batumi, and see some familiar places from a new vantage point. There was one distant kettle that had some of my students fighting each other for scope time though! They also learned about the different types of birds that fly through Batumi, why Batumi is such a unique place, and about why the BRC monitors migration, while admiring the view from Ruslan’s lovely yard. Despite the long drive, everyone who came was awed by the beauty of Sakhalvasho and Shuamta, places almost none of them had ever visited, and delighted by some strange mushrooms we saw, the struggle of our marshutka heading up to Shuamta, and the few birds we did see.

Does everyone look like they're having fun? (Sakhalvasho)

The lesson: bird parts, what birds, a bird word crossword, Sakhalvasho. 

I also had the privilege of working with Sakhalvasho English teacher Elza, who invited me to visit her 3rd, 7th, and 11th grade classes. Most of the older students were at least somewhat familiar with the BRC, so I took the opportunity to play “Bird Jeopardy” with them, a fun way to practice their English vocabulary and bird knowledge, and hopefully more entertaining than a slideshow lecture on migration. While everyone could answer “Where does a cuckoo build its nest?” the question “What do bee-eaters eat?” completely stumped two entire classes of 7th and 11th graders. I didn’t bother trying to teach a group of 3rd graders about migration flyways and the different types of buzzard, so instead we sang some silly songs about birds and looked out at a small kettle that had formed outside their classroom window.

3rd grade bird song time in Sakhalvasho.

11th grade group pic, Sakhalvasho.

These experiences help develop students’ appreciation for and interest in birds, nature, and conservation, and hopefully some of them will go on to become Georgia’s future scientists, teachers, and BRC counters. And hopefully I can join the count again someday, if not this spring then in some future year. I spent this whole experience trying to cram new information into my brain, and I want to have the chance to use it again!

Beqa lookin' for birds in Shuamta.

Reading about raptors on the ride over from Keda.

My counterpart Nineli & I, with 5th grade Lizi.

Last day party, with counters & Georgian hosts (I'm behind the camera), Sakhalvasho