Steve Fagin: Swallows and kayakers never tire of annual migration

Sep. 19—As the sun set over Connecticut River's west bank last week while a nearly full moon rose to the east, dozens of kayakers, eyes craned skyward, drifted in Lord Cove, waiting for the show to begin.

Finally: "Here they come!" one paddler exclaimed, and the sky soon filled with a swirling cloud of tiny, cheeping birds.

Although it's unclear when swallows began migrating to Goose Island off Lyme in late summer and early fall, one thing is certain: Increasing numbers of kayakers, canoeists, standup paddleboarders, small powerboat operators and passengers aboard tour boats have been showing up to view them for more than a decade.

The eye-popping show, featuring hundreds of thousands of birds flying in an unpredictable, cyclonic pattern called a murmuration, never gets old. Friends and I paddled there twice last week, and I plan to return a couple more times over the next few weeks until cold weather drives away the bugs, along with the swallows upon which they feed.

"It's like a galaxy of swallows!" gushed Jackson Hallberg, who was taking in the spectacle for the first time.

"It's a swallow Milky Way!" chimed in Jackson's aunt, Maggie Jones — like me, a veteran swallow-watcher. She and Jackson were paddling a tandem kayak while I was alongside in a single.

Part of the fun of the avian experience is sharing it with first-timers, so a few nights later, I invited nouveau onlookers Sandy and Terry Fedors to tag along.

The three of us launched just before 6 p.m. from Ferry Landing State Park in Old Lyme, just south of the Baldwin Bridge.

A perfect, late afternoon on the last full week of summer, we agreed — warm, with a light breeze — and as a bonus, a rising tide that helped propel us two north miles to 75-acre Goose Island, located only 100 yards or so from the mainland.

As darkness fell, the birds began appearing — first, as tiny specks, high in the air, and gradually, as massive flocks that swooped and dived, sometimes almost at eye-level.

"Look at them all!" Sandy blurted.

"Amazing!" Terry breathed. After we watched, spellbound, for more than half an hour, just about all daylight faded, and Terry prepared to start paddling back to Ferry Landing.

"Wait!" I interceded. "The best is yet to come..."

Sure enough, separate flocks soon coalesced into a single, twisting column resembling the cone of a tornado. The vortex of birds then plummeted toward the island, as if sucked by a giant vacuum. There, amid a dense tangle of phragmites that cover the island, the swallows would spend the night, and fly away at dawn.

As Maggie had pointed out, the swallows' behavior varies from night to night. Sometimes they break up into small flocks and fall to the island like raindrops; others they land with a giant whoosh. It's always different, which is part of the allure.

Experts believe that this time of year, new waves of migrating swallows constantly arrive from points north, en route to the southeastern United States, West Indies, Central America, and even South America. In spring, they will fly back north.

When did this mass-migratory pattern begin? No one knows, for certain.

Even the late Roger Tory Peterson, the celebrated ornithologist and field guide author/illustrator who lived near Goose Island for 40 years, hadn't been aware of it until a neighbor took him there for the first time in 1994.

"In all my long lifetime of birding I have never witnessed a spectacle more dramatic than the twisting tornadoes of tree swallows I saw plunging from the sky after sundown," he later wrote in Birdwatcher's Digest.

You don't have to be an ornithologist, or even an expert kayaker, to view the sparrows. You also shouldn't wait 40 years.

A cartop public boat launch at the end of Pilgrim Landing Road in Old Lyme is located only a few hundred yards from the southern tip of Goose Island, but the small parking lot tends to get crowded, particularly on weekends, so I prefer launching from Ferry Landing State Park. This makes for a slightly longer paddle, and currents can build near the bridge stanchions during tide changes, but better parking and a sandy beach make it a preferable launch.

I also prefer to remain inside Lord Cove on the east side of Goose Island rather than on the west shore facing the river, where noisy, fast powerboats often kick up chaotic wakes.

The swallows typically arrive about sunset, so bring a headlamp and/or other lights for the paddle back to your car.

Enjoy the show!