SHOREBIRDS ON THE MOVE

Every spring, about the beginning of April, flocks of shorebirds begin their annual migration up the Pacific coast on their way to Alaska and other points north. Sandpipers and plovers by the tens of thousands use the coastline as a pathway to their summer homes, feeding on the abundant populations of marine invertebrates and depositing fat to fuel their long-distance flights to their breeding grounds. Some birds leave the Washington coast and fly directly across the Gulf of Alaska to southern Alaska, where they stop at estuaries such as the Copper River Delta.

The most common species are Western Sandpipers, Dunlins, and Short-billed Dowitchers, in that order. At the same beaches, mudflats, and tidal pools are smaller but still substantial numbers of Black-bellied and Semipalmated Plovers, Greater Yellowlegs, Whimbrels, Marbled Godwits, Ruddy Turnstones, Red Knots, Sanderlings, Least Sandpipers, and Long-billed Dowitchers. At the same time, Black Turnstones, Surfbirds, and Wandering Tattlers feed along rocky shores as they move north, and Red-necked and Red Phalarope flocks settle on the ocean offshore.

These birds take advantage of a spring flush of invertebrate growth and recruitment, and they find no lack of goodies to help them put on weight. Amphipod crustaceans, polychaete worms, and small bivalves are among the most abundant fauna in birds that feed on and in sand and mud. These animals are so abundant that just about all the shorebird species using the area feed on them. Barnacles, mussels, and snails are staples of the rock shorebirds, and planktonic crustaceans fill the bellies of phalaropes.

Shorebird migration peaks on the Washington coast in the last week of April and first week of May, when the maximum number of species and individuals are present. Grays Harbor and Willapa Bay and the beaches adjacent to them always support the largest numbers, and the abundance of these birds provides a stirring spectacle every spring. Concentrations of some species in Grays Harbor are the highest south of Alaska.

And there is a Grays Harbor Shorebird Festival every spring to enjoy these concentrations: http://www.shorebirdfestival.com/.

Unfortunately, shorebird numbers have been declining, so the spectacle gets a little less spectacular every year. More importantly, we don’t have a good handle on the cause of the decline. Presumably it relates to loss of habitat on either the wintering grounds or at migration stopovers, as the arctic and subarctic breeding habitats are still relatively intact.

It’s also possible that anthropogenic changes are reducing the abundance of shorebird prey, another factor that we don’t know much about on a grand scale. There are still lots of shorebirds, so we have some time to work out an effective conservation plan, and there is such a plan for the U.S. (http://www.fws.gov/shorebirdplan/).

Dennis Paulson

A VOLATILE MIX

Dunlins (Calidris alpina) are sandpipers that winter in large flocks at and near the Washington coast. Because they are common, they represent an important part of the diet of wintering bird-eating falcons (especially Peregrine Falcons and Merlins). When you find a large flock of Dunlins, there is every chance that one or more falcons will be nearby, and you may be gifted with one of nature’s more spectacular shows.

This is what happened to us near Edison in Skagit County on January 2, 2010. A large flock of Dunlins (around 4,000) was feeding and roosting in the flooded fields along the Bayview-Edison Road, not far from Skagit Bay, so we stopped to watch them.

Almost immediately the flock flushed, and a Merlin flashed through them. It didn’t get one, then disappeared, maybe because too many of its big cousins were in the area. In the hour and a half we spent at the spot, we saw three different Peregrines.

An adult male and an adult female stooped on the flock several times each, scattering the sandpipers like confetti. But it was confetti with a purpose, as the birds flushed and then became dense moving objects, oscillating back and forth over the landscape in alternating brown camouflage and white flash as they showed their upper- or undersides.

The speed at which the falcons went through the flock was breathtaking. The male seemed faster than the female, perhaps only an illusion because of his smaller size. After each pass, the predator would gain altitude quickly, then come back through in a dive. It would level out not far above the ground or water and come shooting through in level flight.

One would think any capture would be because of a random meeting in the air, but the falcon often jinked sideways or up or down slightly, presumably going after an individual bird each time. Their success rate was low; we never saw either bird catch a Dunlin, but a bit later we saw the female eating one, so she must have succeeded when we weren’t watching.

The biggest show was put on by a young female, easily distinguished because of her brown upperparts and striped underparts. She shot through the Dunlin flocks again and again, stooping perhaps 25 times as we watched. A lightning pass at eye level, sometimes coming within 50 feet of our car, then up and down again for another pass. She never picked one out of the air, but then we saw her circle around and pick one up from the water, presumably a casualty of her strike or a midair Dunlin collision.

We saw a Glaucous-winged Gull carrying a Dunlin in its bill, presumably another bird that hadn't survived the aerial confusion.

It was impossible to follow a stooping falcon with the camera lens, but by focusing into the middle of the Dunlins and hitting the shutter button just as the immature Peregrine passed, I managed to get a few photos during the attacks. The two adults obligingly posed for photos on nearby utility poles.

There was also a nearby Prairie Falcon that we never saw harass the Dunlins, perhaps because it already had something for lunch. A male Northern Harrier also passed through the waves of Dunlins but with no luck.

What a way to begin the New Year!

Dennis Paulson