I encountered the Whisky Jack fifty years ago when camping in the high country. At the time, I had no idea what this jaunty bird had to do with whisky (or whiskey, as Americans style their beverage). Nothing, as it turns out. Whisky Jack is just a transliteration from Wesakachak, the name in Cree (and related languages), where the bird seems to have been named after an amiable trickster hero (or possibly, it was the other way around).
So Wesakachak was the bird’s name in Canada for centuries. Along the way it gained the more formal name of Canada Jay, which does make geographic sense as the bird’s range lies primarily in this country. But, then the American Ornithologists’ Union decided it should be called Gray Jay (which really should be spelled Grey Jay in Canada) and we went along with it. If you want to find it in a guidebook, look under Gray Jay, but I think I will stick with Wesakachak.
Any way you spell it, one of the delights of the sub-alpine forest is an encounter with this amiable trickster. If it happens, it is probably not because you sought the bird; rather, it is because the bird sought you.
This is one of a number of Wesakachaks that came to investigate visitors to its realm.
“Why are you here? More to the point, did you bring food?”
The bird is soon off, but only on a short flight to a nearby perch.
Here is the issue: If you brought food you are interesting; if not, well….
This charismatic species should be selected as Canada’s official national bird!
You can vote for it here.
http://www.canadiangeographic.ca/nationalbird/bird.asp?name=Gray-jay&id=1026
Carlo, it is really interesting to me that this attempt to name a national bird for Canada is a project the Royal Canadian Geographical Society and the Canadian Geographic. The suggested choice is good in that the bird has a predominately Canadian geographic range. Yet, oddly these two canonical Canadian organizations have chosen the American spellings of Gray Jay (would be Grey Jay in Canada) and Whiskey Jack (we make whisky, not whiskey). To my mind, this bit of institutional ineptitude undercuts the nationalistic merits of the project. Alas, they don’t seem to offer the option of voting for the bird, but against the name.
Concur! If I were in charge, the bird would be selected, and the mandated name would be Whisky Jack.
Always enjoyed the visits of this bird when in Dease Lake years ago. You would think nothing was around for miles, but just break out a bite of something from your rucksack and they would appear silently from nowhere. They were affectionately called Camp Robers on top of the other string of names
The Trickster meets a Trickster
Years ago I came upon a little family group of Wesakachaks when my pockets and rucksack happened to be empty. I held out my hand nonetheless, and a moment later the boldest member of the group alighted for a handout. Seeing nothing, this little bird looked me in the eye, then promptly nipped my finger and flew lightly away. I recall feeling quite chastened by this.
Talk to you later, Alistair…