The (Big) Year That Flew By: Twelve Months, Six Continents and the Ultimate Birding Record by Arjan Dwarshuis, translated by Els Vanbrabant. English translation copyright 2023 published by Chelsea Green Publishing.
The book includes a forward by Mark Obmascik, author of The Big Year: A Tale of Man, Nature and Fowl Obsession, published February 9, 2005. Many readers are likely to have read Mark Obmascik's book, or at least have seen the movie (Jack Black's character).
I've read all three of the most recent big year books that I am aware of. I published my review of Dorian Anderson's Birding Under the Influence on November 24, 2023 and linked my reviews of Noah Strycker's Birding Without Borders (December 2017) and his earlier book The Thing with Feathers (September 2017) at the end of Dorian's book review. When I recently purchased a couple of new field guides (flycatchers of NA and terns of NA), I noticed Arjan Dwarshuis's big year book in the same link and thought, why not, I'll purchase this book too. I just finished reading Arjan's book.
Dorian Anderson's big year cycling around the United States was completed in December 2014. Noah Strycker's worldwide big year was completed in December 2015. Immediately upon Noah completing his worldwide trip, Arjan Dwarshuis from Scheveningen, Netherlands set out to break Noah's record in 2016. So, three years in a row, there was a flurry of big year birding going on. It was easy for me to follow Dorian's and Noah's nightly blog entries during their big years and reading their blogs was how I ended each day. Arjan's communiques were harder to keep track of, at least for me, from this side of the Atlantic. So, I was pleased to see that he had published a book about his 2016 experience. This is my review of his The (Big) Year That Flew By.
To achieve what Anderson, Strycker and Dwarshuis each achieved requires highly evolved skill, grit, determination, effort and, perhaps most importantly, confidence. As nearly as I can tell, all three individuals met these criteria and, where confidence was required, all three excelled.
After all of this introduction, I'll start by writing that I really liked Arjan Dwarshuis's The (Big) Year That Flew By. It's a gripping page turner. But, I also have criticisms. I recognize that my criticism may be more personal in its orientation and comes from a fair amount of European travel (not as much as some, but more than others) in the past couple of decades.
Arjan's approach to detailing his big year is to write about environment as much as he writes about birds, and he intertwines the two. Most birders are aware of the things he writes about - increasing population, poverty, chopping down the rainforest, agriculture, the drug trade, illegal trafficking in bird and animal species, illegal mining, water pollution, desertification and the impact of climate change - you name it. In pithy paragraphs and segments Dwarshuis writes how all of these things are impacting the human (especially indigenous people in many countries), bird, animal and plant populations everywhere in the world. With each bird sighting he selects to write about, he describes its struggle to survive. He writes with clarity and knowledge. Even though I consider myself an aware individual, I learned so much, especially at the grass roots level. Many of the situations are dire. When there is evidence of hopefulness or reason for hope, Dwarshuis writes about it. Some if it seems so small and one can question and worry, how will this make a difference? Dwarshuis's response is that we are a part of the answer and we cannot shirk our responsibility (page 232).
Dorian Anderson wrote about this; indeed, our dependence on fossil fuels was a significant focus of his biking big year. Though I don't recall this as a theme in his book, Noah Strycker mentions the carbon footprint he created to achieve his goal. But, Europeans, I think, are way ahead of us in awareness and urgency for these issues. When you read Arjan Dwarshuis's book, your awareness will be shaken from its slumber.
Dwarshuis does not hold back in other ways. He lets his thoughts and feelings be known and does not hesitate to let the reader know what he thinks.
Arjan and his friend, Max, are in Danum Valley, Sabah, Malaysia (page 41) when they are surrounded by a herd of Bornean pygmy elephants. Afraid of a stampede, they climb a lookout tower for safety and where, from their elevated perch, they can monitor the situation. Below them they see two women taking selfies with the elephants (page 41). Arjan and his friend cannot believe this. "One wrong move and the women are dead." When it becomes too dark to take photos the women walk away from the elephants. Arjan and Max need another two hours before they are able to climb down from the tower and get a lift from a passing 4x4. Back at their lodge, they run into the women. Arjan is clearly irritated with the women. "Do you know how dangerous that was?" he asks them. The women dismiss his concern, and he notes their "heavy" California accents (the quotes around heavy are mine; I am not aware of a California accent of any kind). They respond saying, "We are good with elephants. We always get on fine with them at the San Diego Zoo." He opens his mouth to start a discussion (page 42), but then realizes that this would be the same as "talking to a wall." Many will disagree, but my two word translation of Arjan's thoughts on this exchange are: Stupid Americans. Why was the "talking to a wall" language of this experience necessary? Allow readers to make up their own minds. In this instance, his opinion and judgement did not matter. But this alone doesn't fully explain the depth of Arjun's judgement or, rather, his lack of judgement.
A few pages earlier, Arjan and his friend Max are in Kaeng Krachan National Park, Phetchaburi, Thailand (page 35) and sleeping in a tent when Arjan thinks he is dreaming that he hears a Bay Owl. He wakes up and realizes he's not dreaming. He wakes Max and, so as not to waste time, they jump into their swimming trunks (yes, swimming trunks) and walk in slippers (yes, slippers) to the edge of the forest. Arjan says to Max [defiantly] "this could be our only chance" [to see the Bay Owl]. Armed with a flashlight and binoculars (page 36), "we walk into the pitch-dark rainforest in our slippers." Thorns tear at their skin and insects sting them. They come close to the owl but five games of hide and seek are needed to see it. They do, finally, get excellent close looks. When it comes time to take leave of the Bay Owl, Arjan realizes that he has no directional sense of where they are. Fortunately, his friend Max has a better sense of orientation and they are able to find their way back to the tent. The next day, Arjan acknowledges that their effort the night before had been "quite reckless. If I had known this, I would have stayed put. But, then again, there probably wouldn't be a Bay Owl on my list right now." So, he must have forgotten this recklessness when he wanted to give a dressing down to the women taking selfies with the elephants. After all, he and Max would not have been the first birders to disappear in a rainforest. The recklessness of seeing the Bay Owl was not unlike the women's recklessness when taking selfies with the elephants. It seems he does not connect the dots. Once aware of this I found other less overt examples where Arjan's personal ambition bumps into his personal antipathy. My own travels have alerted me to this kind of observation. Others may be unlikely to notice. This escapade occurred on February 1st and his list reveals that he saw species #817, the Oriental Bay Owl (Phodilus badius), and that Arjan even carried his camera and got a photo. He ends the Kaeng Krachan National Park segment with this odd little idiom, "The juice was worth the squeeze" (page 36).
Arjan zigzags his big year with segments of his childhood evolution as a birder in Scheveningen, Netherlands. Back and forth. I'm not sure this worked for me, but this seemed important to him. His Scheveningen stories are occasionally charming and funny. He once skipped school and a math exam to go with friends to see Pine Grosbeaks. He was caught by his math teacher who scolded him, but also encouraged him to be honest if such an opportunity arose again. I usually enjoy this style of narration but the childhood stories were also a distraction. Had he not included so many of these perhaps he could have included more big year stories.
He does not write at all about what month or date it is. Very occasionally he lets the reader know that it's March or July or day #315. Likewise, his species count is unknowable. From time-to-time, he lets us know what number his count has reached, but unless he is comparing his progress to where Noah was during his big year, there is no other context.
Of Arjan's dips, for me the most moving was in Andasibe-Mantadia National Park, Moramanga, Madagascar. Here, in horrible weather and terrible birding conditions, he pursues his search for one bird, the Helmet Vanga (Euryceros prevostii), endemic to a small slice of the island's northeastern rainforest. He had forgotten his packed lunch and water bottle and was out the whole day without food or drink. It rained the entire time. At the end of the day he is so fatigued and discouraged it nearly does him in (pages 101-102). In Madagascar he is also unwittingly "ripped off" by a customs officer at the Antananarivo airport when he is forced to pay cash for his visa and receives "dirty, discolored banknotes in exchange." Later, when he tries to make a purchase, he learns that the notes are counterfeit. He describes this as the "pinnacle of corruption" but then also writes, "Madagascar is one of the poorest countries in the world; more than 90 percent of its population live on less than two dollars a day" (page 98).
In the final pages of his big year he goes from Sax-Zim Bog in Minnesota where he dips on Great Gray Owl to Pinnacles National Park in California where he scores seeing the California Condor. Then it's New Year's Day and he is in Da Lat, Vietnam (page 226). Huh? It's pouring rain and they are out looking for Grey-crowned Crocias (successfully) and his friend, Tjeerd, is incredulous when he exclaims to Arjan, "This is the worse weather you've had in 366 days?" Again, huh? Yes, by the end of the book I had forgotten about the leap year thing. But somehow it was also New Year's Day. Wouldn't his big year have ended at midnight on New Year's Eve? Throughout the book it was sort of like this. I couldn't keep track and just went with the flow.
In all of these big year experiences, I am struck by the level of record and note keeping that is required; first to count your birds properly but secondly, and just as importantly, to keep your location and story straight. This takes time and attention to detail. Arjan was frequently exhausted and sleep deprived, but he seems to have surprised himself when he writes at the end, "I have not been sick for one day this year." By the end of the year, he had seen 6,833 species and then later added "19 species that he had forgotten" to bring his grand total to 6,852 (page 228). Noah Strycker used the Clements classification system for his 6,042 species seen and this is detailed beautifully in appendices 2 and 3 (pages 266-318) in Birding Without Borders. Arjan Dwarshuis used the International Ornithological Committee (IOC) classification system. Had he used Clements his species count would have been far fewer, but still higher than Noah's. His list is not included in his book but pages 233 and 234 include a comprehensive list of resources where we find the website he used to publish his list. In the end, his species count seems to have landed on the number 6912 and seems to be a moving target. This is because of changes to the IOC classification list which is currently in version 14.1. It is likely that with all of the lumps and splits since 2015, Noah's species count may also be different now. Of note, you will find Arjan's personal website here and this will also link you to his Instagram account.
In 2014 Dorian Anderson rode his bike over 17,800 miles to shed his personal demons and to forge a new path for himself. His enormous effort yielded 618 bird species sighted. He was essentially alone for his whole trip. To my knowledge his is still the only North American big year on a bicycle attempted and completed. In 2015 Noah Strycker, realizing he could exceed the numbers listed for prior worldwide birding adventures, was at a time in his life where a worldwide big year was calling his name. He set an arbitrary number of 5,000 bird species to see and exceeded this by over a 1,000 species.
My final comment is of the story behind The (Big) Year That Flew By. Arjan Dwarshuis writes that his planning had begun in 2014 (page 11) for a 2015 worldwide big year when he learns from a friend's text message of an American birder's (Noah's) plans for a worldwide big year in 2015 (page 13). He writes, "There were two options left to me: I could throw in the towel now, or I could go a step further. I decided to go for option two". That is, he delays. It's unclear why "throwing in the towel" was even an option. Throughout the book Arjan's competitive spirit is on full display. He clearly benefitted from having Noah's record to chase and, in the only footnote of the book (page 6), he writes "I deliberately chose a leap year since it gave me an extra day." So, which was it? Had he really planned to do his big year in 2015? All that work and planning thrown out the window just because another birder had planned the same? The opportunity to break a record must have been so inviting (and, coincidentally, 2016 was a leap year). This might have been an even more interesting story had he not delayed.
Okay, leave it alone. None of these guys are writing to receive the next Pulitzer prize. Dwarshuis's book is a riveting read and will keep you turning the pages. Who knows, another birder may be inspired to try to break Arjan's record.
In reading all of these books, I have come to the conclusion that it is not the number of species seen with such endeavors. It's the individual experiences, stamina and determination that make the story. But then, I'm the reader, not the competitor.
Now will Peter Kaestner write a book on being the first birder to see *10,000 bird species? My fingers are crossed. With an Orange-Tufted Spiderhunter, Birder Breaks Record for Sightings by Joe Trezza, published in the New York Times, March 11, 2024.
* Peter Kaestner also uses the IOC checklist for his life bird list.
Afterward: After writing this review I did some web searching and found Bryan Pfeiffer's website article, Birdwatching's Carbon Problem, Our moral thicket: Chasing nature on a warming planet, from December 2, 2021. His essay is eye-opening and the comments from his readers are also good. I recommend the essay and Bryan Pfeiffer's website.
2nd afterward: There has now been a digiscoping big year record by Jeff Bouton of Kowa Optics. Nate Swick interviews Jeff Bouton for the March 14, 2024 The American Birding Podcast: Beat This Big Year Record with Jeff Bouton. Not sure how serious they were; listeners can decide for themselves. I'm a podcast listener and Nate Swick does a really good job with this podcast. It's one of my favorites.
