Chinese Crested Tern Success!

Peter Harrison celebrates seeing the Chinese Crested Tern, May 2025. Peter has now become the first individual to see all of the planet’s 434 seabird species.

Chinese Crested Tern, photographed in May 2025 by Peter Harrison. The Chinese Crested Tern has a carrot-colored bill with black tip, minimal in juveniles but eye-catching in adults.

Throughout my life there have been extraordinary events, such as the publication in 1983 of my first book Seabirds: An Identification Guide. I also, as a young man, wanted to discover a new species of seabird, and that event happened with the discovery of the Pincoya Storm-petrel in 2011. These events changed in order of significance as each was accomplished, but the events became scarcer and more difficult to achieve. Eventually there were just two events left to accomplish by the beginning of 2025. First and foremost, I wanted to see every single seabird species, and this was linked to seeing all known seabird species, a feat that no marine biologists have ever claimed.

For a while, with the discovery of the Pincoya Storm-petrel, it looked as though I had achieved these goals. But then, in the year 2000, there came a claim that observers along the coasts of China and Korea had seen a species of tern, the Chinese Crested Tern. There were even sporadic claims that occasional pairs of Chinese Crested Tern had also been seen among other large gull and tern colonies in the area. Last seen with certainty in 1991, and with no breeding records since 1937, there was now anecdotal evidence that against all odds, the Chinese Crested Tern had escaped from the black void of extinction.

This conveniently resurrected my life’s last two significant birding events: firstly, to see my last existing seabird species, and, in so doing, completing the task of being the first observer to see all the planet’s 434 seabird species.

So began my birding life’s last event and grand finale that involved the journey across three continents—Europe, North America, and Asia, to end in Seoul. We first began monitoring the single sightings of Chinese Crested Tern, which culminated in the unexpected report of a small cluster of these Terns, eight adults and four chicks, breeding within a Crested Tern colony at the Matsu Islands in the South China Sea.

Further monitoring over a three-to-four-year period showed that single birds or small groups were regularly reported from a 17-mile stretch of golden, sandy beaches centered around the Township of Yeonggwang in South Korea. As it so happened, Apex Expeditions was going to be in the general area with a four-day period that could be used for research. In birding parlance, a twitch is when a birder makes a journey to see a bird. Sometimes the distance is a mere few miles. The twitch we planned was to be a mega-twitch. It would last a week, cover more than 16,000 kilometers, and cross three continents. Our target: the Chinese Crested Tern, a bird thought to be extinct for more than 60 years.

There was not a moment to lose. We packed our scopes and digital cameras, bought our tickets, arranged for local guides, and were finally off to arrive in South Korea at the end of May of 2025. Leading the charge was Jonathan Rossouw followed by Martin Perrow, plus the services of two local birders: Dr. Nial Moores and Professor Kim Young Gul. We met at Seoul on 29 May 2025, and on the following day set out on a five-hour drive to the coast.

Our first views of the coast were hardly a positive sign. The tide was out, exposing mile upon mile of golden sand. This was going to be a tough assignment. At our first stop, I was first out of the vehicle, scope in hand, leading the charge to the beach. Black-tailed Gulls were the most common species. One by one we checked through the roosting gulls. Suddenly, without warning, Martin Perrow, our Seabirds editor and a Tern expert, let fly with a shout: “Incoming! Incoming! Chinese Crested Tern behind us!” We had been on the beach for only about 20 minutes. I looked up, jumping in the air; I had tears flowing down my cheeks. The bird flew up and down in front of us and was joined by a second bird. The species is easily separated from the Indo-Pacific Crested Tern by its black-tipped carrot-colored bill and much paler mantle. We would spend four days in the area and see Chinese Crested Terns well on each of the days we were present.

This was a mega-birding event in my life, perhaps the biggest, even bigger than the discovery of the Pincoya Storm-petrel. It was not only my last seabird species to be observed, but perhaps the rarest of any seabird that I’ve ever seen, an event that has no equal.

Since our visit, several more sporadic and isolated pairs and groups of Chinese Crested Tern have been discovered in the area. The Chinese and South Korean governments, with local birding experts, have been working hard to provide and maintain safe breeding havens for the resurrection of this back-from-the-dead species; we wish them luck.