On a trip to Fort Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas, on a tour with a famous
guide and a cadre of expert birders, I was riding high on the top deck of
the boat out into the Gulf of Mexico. Our instructions were to call out
every bird we saw even if we couldn't ID it. So I did. I screamed over the
wind that there was a whole flock of something flying beside us. Everyone
looked. Turns out it was a school, not a flock, of flying fish. I couldn't
tell a fish from a bird. Oh, dear.