One could argue that birding in the western hemisphere started on Hispaniola, with the colorful birds captured by Columbus’s men as trophies of their voyage. Today, more than five centuries later, this Caribbean island and the two nations that share it, Haiti and the Dominican Republic, are the subject of renewed interest in the birding community; Hispaniola now has its own eBird (at http://www.ebird.org/Hispaniola/) and its own field guide, a handsome, easy-to-use volume available in English, Spanish, and French.

And just in time. No fewer than 38 of Hispaniola’s 306 avian species are endangered, among them fully 15 of the island’s 31 endemics. Habitat loss and degradation are to blame; the authors also cite failure to enforce environmental laws and a lack of local knowledge of the island’s biodiversity and its importance. The ultimate goal of Birds of the Dominican Republic and Haiti is to “inspire a new generation of birdwatchers, ornithologists, and conservationists” to “become as fascinated as we are by the diversity of the island’s avifauna.” The guide has a good chance to do just that.

BDRH adheres to the familiar format of color plates with facing-page identification notes, followed by a more expansive text offering a detailed description, distinctions from similar species, a voice description, detailed status and distribution information for Hispaniola, and miscellaneous comments. Each species account is accompanied by a range map, and local names (in Spanish for the Dominican Republic, in Creole and in French for Haiti) are also provided.

These longer texts are generally adequate for the identification of all but the most subtly distinguished species, and will likely serve both visitors to Hispaniola and local birders well. The “Comments” sections are often thorough, concise explorations of the more interesting aspects of a species’ life history or conservation status. Only occasionally do the species accounts leave important questions unanswered: we are told, for example, that the West Indian forms of the Short-eared Owl differ from North American birds ”in plumage and vocalizations,” but regrettably, no details are offered about those distinctions. The presentation of additional taxonomic information is generally clear and thorough, but the comment in the account for Hispaniolan Crossbill is befuddling: the authors write of “this crossbill” as “a species typical of northern coniferous forests,” and note that it was “considered part of the White-winged Crossbill species complex” until 2003. It would have been more accurate, and thus necessarily less confusing, to write that the Hispaniolan Crossbill was long considered conspecific with the White-winged Crossbill, but was recognized as a separate species in 2003.

The front of the book is rather less satisfying. The color plates (many borrowed from Princeton’s West Indies) range from adequate to poor. Hispaniolan endemics are depicted in full-page portraits by Barry Kent McKay; these images are dramatic and decorative, but particularly in the case of those species presenting identification challenges, a more traditional field-guide format, showing the birds against a plain background and in profile, might have been more helpful. Unfortunately, the tails and bills of some of McKay’s birds are cut off in my review copy.  

The telegraphic identification texts facing the plates are generally quite good. Occasionally, though, the text emphasizes a field mark not visible in the facing image; for example, the strong white primary fringing described for Stolid Flycatcher cannot be seen on the plate. (This problem is shared with the plate in Raffaele et al., where the text speaks of “primaries” but arrows point to the strong white fringing of the bird’s tertials.) Conversely, some images show features useful for identification that are not addressed in the text; the different face patterns of Tree and Golden Swallows, clearly depicted but unmentioned, are an example. The scale on many plates is off as well, making a Song Sparrow as long as a Rose-breasted Grosbeak.

Most troubling perhaps is the topography sketch in the field guide’s front matter. Not only is the drawing (of a Hispaniolan Spindalis) misshapen, but a number of the labels are incorrect: the “secondaries” are actually tertials, the “malar” actually the throat, the “legs” actually the tarsus (or tarsometatarsus, as long as I’m being picky), and the “chest”–well, I don’t know what that is. This is a disservice to the new and potential birders the guide hopes to attract, and should be corrected in any subsequent printings of the book.

The weakness of the illustrations, though, is far outweighed by the usefulness of the text, and by the value of the book as a whole. Let us hope that its goal is realized, and that the residents of Hispaniola come to recognize the beautiful diversity of their avifauna before it is too late.