Good Natured in St. Charles: Cormorants appear creepy, kooky, mysterious and spooky

“They’re creepy and they’re kooky,

Mysterious and spooky,

They’re altogether ooky”

Right about now, you’re probably fighting the urge to snap your fingers, hum along, and fill in the rest of the verse with “ … The Addams Family.”

But just this once, try substituting – and I know this is a mouthful: “Phalacrocoracidae.” Or in everyday language, The Cormorant Family.

Specifically, we’re talking about Nannopterum auritum, the double-crested cormorant: that creepy, kooky, mysterious and spooky bird that is a familiar sight along the Fox River as well as select marshes and assorted neighborhood retention ponds.

Most people, upon seeing this bird in our area, do a double-take. Is it a loon without white markings? A black goose that perches in trees? Is it an anhinga, that southern bird known for perching with its wings spread wide?

The answers to these questions, in order, are: No. Nope again. And almost, but not quite.

Double-crested cormorants, or DCCOs in birder-speak, have their own family, but are closely related to anhingas. Both are primitive diving birds well-adapted to their ecological niche, which is consuming (primarily) fish. Anhingas, though, prowl the depths and stalk their prey before stabbing it with their pointy bill. DCCOs, on the other hand, use powerful legs and webbed feet to chase after their fishy quarry, which they then snare with a bill that is hooked on the end.

Also like anhingas, DCCOs have feathers that are structurally different from waterfowl like ducks and geese, and, as such, are less water resistant. This might seem like a disadvantage at first, since DCCOs end up soaking wet every time they dive and swim. But if you think about it, the lack of water repellency is actually quite helpful. It prevents the birds from becoming buoyant, and lets them pursue their aquatic prey with greater speed and agility.

The only issue comes when it’s time to leave the water. Like wet jeans or a hooded sweatshirt, soggy feathers can stay that way for a long time – unless they’re spread out to dry. That’s where the birds’ characteristic posture, with wings outstretched, comes in. It’s a little creepy and a little kooky, but, bottom line, it’s functional and that’s all that matters.

Cormorants tend to hang out in groups, and the sight of multiple dark birds perched in a tree, oriented toward the sun, wings akimbo, can be a little mysterious and spooky. Even raven-like. In fact, until its recent reclassification, the bird belonged to the genus Phalacrocorax; the latter part of that name means raven. Furthermore, the common name cormorant is a contraction of the term corax marinus, or raven of the sea.

Odd birds that they are, cormorants are not without their charms. Though their plumage is predominantly black, the birds have bright yellow-orange skin on their face and neck. Their eyes, if you can get close enough to see them, are a gem-like aquamarine, and the inside of their mouth turns a deep Caribbean blue during breeding season. It’s also during this period that the birds develop their namesake double crests – wispy plumes, one behind each eye. (Not to mix TV metaphors here, but the way those two crests pop sideways from the head always reminds me of the hairstyle favored by Count Sam Dracula, better known as Grandpa on the 1960s classic “The Munsters.”)

Remember how Morticia Addams speaking French would drive Gomez wild? Cara mia! DCCOs also perform a number of elaborate courtship rituals, including wing waving, water dances and the delivery of nesting materials that can include sticks, vegetation, rope, nets and other debris.

Though breeding season is long passed, there are still plenty of interesting cormorant behaviors to observe – and plenty of places to see them. If you’re in Kane County, head to the Fox River and look for dark birds sitting low in the water. Be prepared though, because these guys are of the now-you-see-’em, now-you-don’t ilk. They dive when the urge to feed strikes, then reappear several yards away, sometimes with a fish to show for their efforts. I almost always see cormorants below the dams in St. Charles and Geneva, as well as above – perched on streetlights.

I should add that if you want to watch cormorants in action, don’t dilly-dally. They’ve begun their southward migration, and few, if any, will remain once the cold weather sets in. I hope you get a chance to see ‘em. They really are a scre’em. The Cormorant Family!

• Pam Otto is a naturalist and the outreach ambassador for the St. Charles Park District. She can be reached at potto@stcparks.org.