On February 9, Peter Kaestner stood in the shadow of the majestic Tinuy-an Falls on the Philippine island of Mindanao, on the threshold of a record he had sought for seventy years, and he feared he would be too late.
For years, no one had seen and identified more bird species than Mr. Kaestner. A retired US diplomat, he is the ultimate ‘big lister’ of birds, a star of the small but growing subculture of hyper-competitive birdwatchers who travel the world competing to see as many species as possible.
An obsessive birdwatcher since childhood, Mr. Kaestner woke up that February morning with 9,997 birds on his personal “life list” — more than 90 percent of the world’s scientifically recognized species and three shy of a special milestone. But he felt rushed. A few weeks earlier, in an essay for the American Birding Associationhad outlined his plans to become the first person to document 10,000 sightings; Shortly afterwards, new information forced him to accelerate his plans.
“When I wrote it, I realized I was putting a target on my back,” Mr. Kaestner said from his home in Cockeysville, Maryland.
He didn’t waste time. Mr. Kaestner spent part of January in Taiwan, where he collected 15 new bird sightings. Soon he was in the Philippines, where he managed to schedule an extra trip to the archipelago before another one he had planned for March. Working with a local guide, Mr. Kaestner saw 19 new birds in seven days to reach 10,000. By mid-afternoon on February 9, he had reached 9,999 when they heard an unknown call from a nearby heliconia thicket.
When the bird appeared, Mr. Kaestner had no doubt what it was: a orange tufted spider hunter, a banana-loving songbird with a sinisterly downward-curved beak. Mr. Kaestner documented the sighting with a photo the first birdwatcher to reach 10,000 species, a momentous achievement once considered unattainable. “The number of people who have helped over the years was extraordinary,” said Mr. Kaestner.
Depending on taxonomic authority, scientists generally agree that there are approximately 11,000 bird species in the world. Fewer than 60 people have ever seen 8,000; Less than 20 have surpassed the 9,000.
Only 271 bird species have ever been recorded in Central Park, a world-famous birding destination. Only about 750 are found in the US and Canada.
Competitive birding has no official scoreboard. Although many birders use photos and field notes to provide evidence, documentation is largely based on a self-reported honor system. For years, Surfbirds.com was the platform of choice for Mr. Kaestner and other big listers, before the site became clunky and unreliable last year. Now they use modern digital platforms such as Ebird and Igoterra. Complicating matters further, the number of accepted species is constantly changing, creating lists that resemble Mr. Kaestner’s more living organism than a stone tablet.
However, the world of mega-listing is small, so the big players often know their competition. Mr. Kaestner had long regarded Philip Rostron, a British birdwatcher, as his biggest challenger, and Ross Gallardy as his heir apparent.
But very few people in that world were aware of Jason Mann, an avid but little-known American birdwatcher living abroad who emerged last year as Mr. Kaestner’s chief competitor. At that point, Mr. Kaestner had set his sights on 10,000, having already broken the world record of Claes-Göran Cederlund, who died in 2020 but posthumously has 9,829 sightings to his name.
In January, Mr Mann sent shockwaves through the listing world when he updated his total from 9,600 to 9,950, leaving him just 50 birds away from 10,000. His list immediately frowned. Included there were several species that are for a long time believed to be extinct or that are extremely rare, such as the New Caledonian nightjar, which had not been demonstrably seen since 1939.
Twelve hours before Mr. Kaestner found his spider hunter and announced his performance online, Mr. Mann announced in a since removed Press release that he had reached the 10,000, which gave rise to further – and fiery – online research.
“Because the two claims came out on the same day, it went a bit viral,” said Mr. Kaestner. “How on earth can this happen? This thing that has never happened in the history of humanity that two birders get 10,000 on the same day? It’s crazy. “
The uproar deeply surprised Mr. Mann, who had surrounded the world in anonymity for 40 years and had never identified himself as a lister. In general, he kept his data private, because spending time online undermined the basis of his passions: being outside. In an interview, he said his bird list was just a fraction of the more than 20,000 species of plants, mammals and other fauna he had digitized, acknowledging minor errors in the upload process but no foul play.
In the midst of the reactions, Mr. Mann Kaestner publicly acknowledged the record holder and made his list again. He said he hoped all the recent publicity would help support bird conservation and encourage young people to get outdoors.
“I love life, human and non-human, and birds are a great lens to experience that,” said Mr. Mann. “Birding brings health and positivity and increases my understanding of the interconnected web of life on which we all depend. It allows me to return to my family and work recharged and with a broader perspective, like adding colors to the rainbow.”
Mr. Kaestner started Vogelen in Baltimore, following his older brother, Hank, who is in the ranking Ninth in the world according to Ebird. Mr Kaestner joined the Peace Corps in Zaire after graduating from Cornell University in 1976; a subsequent 36-year career in the Foreign Service took him around the world, from bird-poor places like Afghanistan and Egypt to bird meccas like India and Brazil.
He saw at least one bird in 190 by Ebird recognized countries and areas, including Antarctica. In 1986 he became the first person to see a representative of every bird family. He discovered a new species in 1989: the Cundinamarca Antpitta.
His search led him to some of the most inaccessible places in the world to find birds. He has traveled through guerrilla territory in politically volatile regions of Colombia, dodged the first Ebola outbreak in Zaire, endured near-fatal altitude sickness in Peru, thwarted car thieves in remote villages and survived flash floods. He has been lost mountain climbing in the Solomon Islands, shipwrecked in the Amazon and guided through the deep jungles of Papua New Guinea by locals wearing necklaces of human skulls.
“My life almost looks like Forrest Gump-Iean,” said Mr. Kaestner. “I have had great stories about nearly disasters, and things went beautiful. I feel incredibly happy.”