The horseshoe crabs extended their breeding period into the neap tide phase after the cold weather of mid-May decreased water temperature during the spring tides. The crabs roughly require a water temperature of about 59 degrees F before breeding begins in earnest. Crabs still breed at a lower temperature, but many more will breed above the temperature threshold.
At the same time, crabs also look for spring tides, the higher high tides that come with full and new moons, because they can breed in sandy places unavailable at lower tides. This year the water cooled during the new moon spring tide and warmed in the neap. Good spawning during the neap tides of the last week was welcome good news. This May good spawning conditions will raise average egg densities about 50% higher than last year. Continue reading “Horseshoe crabs expanded breeding into neap tides”
Horseshoe Crabs Just Beginning To Breed as Shorebirds Arrive
Delaware Bay horseshoe crab eggs reach sufficient levels to give red knots and other shorebirds a good start on the fat they need to fuel the last leg of their yearly journey in the first week of the stopover ( May 12-19). Knots need at least 180 grams to fly to the Arctic and breed successfully. This week we caught birds that weighed 93 grams which is 30 grams below fat-free weight. These birds had just arrived from a long flight, probably from Tierra del Fuego, Chile or Maranhão, Brazil. In the same catch, we weighed red knots as high as 176 grams or only 5 grams from the 180-gram threshold. These birds are probably from Florida or the Caribbean wintering areas and so arrive earlier, resulting in them having more time to gain weight. All together it looks like a normal early migration and a modest horseshoe crab spawn, just barely enough for the birds in the bay.
However, we are still short of about half the population. Our bay wide count won’t take place until next week on May 22 and 26. At this point it looks like we have about 14,000 knots in the bay, of which 8,000 are in New Jersey. In the last 5 years we have had a bay wide population of about 24,000 red knots. The situation is similar for ruddy turnstones and sanderlings. The southernly winds of the next few days will almost certainly bring in the rest of the flock by mid-week.
The Stopover Habitat is Growing
The condition of the stopover is mixed.
The work of Niles & Smith Conservation Services, Conserve Wildlife Foundation of NJ, and American Littoral Society continues to supply high-quality habitat for horseshoe crabs. We have developed an efficient system for maintaining the essential requirements of a good spawning beach, deep and large grain sand with berm heights that prevent over washing in a way that keeps cost down. First, by creating low oyster reefs to break waves in lower tides, thus protecting beaches from wind waves at low and mid tides. Second, by placing sand on beaches that typically erode fast losing sands to adjacent creek inlets and the next beach south. This way we can use one restoration to restore three different places. For example, Cooks Beach loses sand to South Reeds.
Oddly these successes may be contributing to the next big problem for the birds. The state of Delaware has been carrying out much larger scale beach replenishment projects that have added significant new sandy beach for crabs spawning. At the same time the Atlantic States Marine Fish Commission has failed to deliver on its promise to increase the number of crabs. The population is still 1/3 below carrying capacity or the number that existed 20 years ago. The same number of crab divided by more beach equals decreasing crab densities. Decreasing densities means fewer eggs reaching the surface because crabs are not digging up existing eggs to lay their own.
In other words, we need more crabs.
The Industry Finds New Ways around the ARM Quota
But the resource agencies seem perfectly happy to keep killing adult crabs for both bait and bleeding at near historically high numbers. Bait harvests recorded as coming from the bay have stayed the same, however other states such as NY are still taking and landing large numbers of crabs despite having no known crab historic population of their own. Additionally, Virginia states that a crab population still exists in the state, even though most field biologists consider them lost. The truth is they are very likely taking Delaware Bay crabs and landing them as their own.
The Conservation groups are no longer satisfied with this loose regulation and are calling for regulations similar to those used for Striped Bass. The Delaware Bay harvest should be restricted to just the quota agreed upon by everyone through the Adaptive Resource Management system. All other landed crabs should be genetically linked to a source population, and if they do in fact come from Delaware Bay they should be taken out of the ARM quota. No one should be allowed to get away with killing our crabs outside the quota.
The same goes for the killing of crabs by the companies bleeding crabs. The industry makes untold millions (the numbers are hidden from the public) but does virtually nothing to conserve the crabs while killing thousands. Their own estimate is well over 65,000 a year, but independent estimates double that. This killing could also stop because a new synthetic lysate is available and can be used now, potentially cutting the need for natural lysate by 90%.
An Ecosystem Collapse and the Need for More Crabs
Why kill such a valuable animal? It all started because the fishing industries saw little value and figured why not destroy the population until they are no longer economically viable. Its called economic extinction and sadly it’s a tradition amongst Delaware Bay fishers still carried out this to this day on eels, conch, and other species. But they didn’t know back in the early 90’s they would wrecking the entire ecosystem.
In 1991, we counted an average of 80,000 horseshoe crabs/meter squared. Now we count 8,000. Then the eggs stayed at that level for all of May and June then hatched young at similar densities. In other words, the horseshoe crab was a keystone producer of an abundant resource that maintained the bay ecosystem. It was not just chance that at the same time the bay has one of the most productive weakfish and blue claw crab fisheries in the Atlantic coast. Fish populations blossomed with the flush of horseshoe crab eggs and hatched young each year.
Now we must bring it back. For the birds, for the fish, and for the people who love to bird and fish.
We are grateful to the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation and other donors who make this project possible.
Dr. Larry Niles has led efforts to protect red knots and horseshoe crabs for over 30 years.
CWF scientists recently returned from a trip to Tierra del Fuego where they studied red knots and other migratory shorebirds that spend the month of May at New Jersey’s Delaware Bayshore.
CWF consultant Joe Smith captured some incredible aerial images of the coastline holding a flock of thousands of shorebirds in his blog story. See more photos of the flock and read Joe’s introductory overview about the trip here. Stay tuned for more installments about this vital trip.
Over the past two years, our team, with the help of funding from the Neotropical Migratory Bird Conservation Act, has worked to create critical habitat maps and detailed threat maps for at-risk shorebird species in Northern Brazil and in Tierra Del Fuego, Chile. These projects have established the foundation for conservation planning in these important wintering areas for migratory shorebirds like red knots.
Brazil:
Two years ago, our team began working in Northern, Brazil covering the Atlantic coastline of both Pará and Maranhão state between Belém and São Luís. Our team conducted two successful excursions to Brazil taking point count surveys of wading shorebirds collecting approximately 44,700 individual bird sightings to add to the database our team created for the critical habitat maps (Figures 1 & 2).
Figure 1. Results from the 2016 point count survey
We conducted surveys using point count methods using fixed radius plots positioned along transects, with all wading birds counted within the 250m radius. Transects were conducted by either walking or while in a boat across various tidal stages and a variety of habitat types including mangrove creeks, sand flats, mudflats and beaches.
Our team then created threat maps of the region from coastal development, mining operations, offshore drilling, and shrimp farming to help inform future conservation planning and mitigate impacts of these activities to the critical shorebird habitat in the region.
Chile:
This year, with a second round of funding, our team conducted work in Tierra Del Fuego, Chile to create critical habitat and detailed threat maps for Bahia Lomas in Chile. Bahia Lomas is both a globally significant RAMSAR wetlands site and a Western Hemisphere shorebird site of hemispheric importance.
Historically, Bahía Lomas and nearby Rio Grande supported wintering populations of 67,000 red knots – the largest wintering area for knots in the Western Hemisphere. In the last 30 years, however, the population has declined to less than 15,000 knots in Bahía Lomas and the population in Rio Grande is functionally extinct (Morrison et al 1989).
This January our team conducted surveys along the coast of Bahia Lomas to understand distribution of shorebird species within the region, using the same sampling methods, study key roosting and feeding habitats, and delineate critical habitat and threats to the region to inform future conservation and minimize impacts to shorebird populations.
Over two weeks our team of New Jerseyans and Canadians conducted point-count sampling surveys throughout the bay with large assistance from our partners from Universidad Santo Tomás in Chile to determine key habitats. Additionally, our team conducted four aerial surveys to get species distribution counts on a large scale of the whole bay at various tide stages, as well as a helicopter survey to continue the population counts of the region done by Dr. Guy Morrison. Finally, our partners with the Universidad Santo Tomás conducted marine invertebrate sampling surveys. These data will be combined to aid in the creation of a GIS mapping system that can identify the most important shorebird habitats in the region.
In the next few months our team will use these data and overlay them with threat mapping to determine the critical habitats undergoing the greatest threats. This project is designed set the stage for proactive conservation planning that will mitigate future threats and will hopefully uncover the source of ongoing declines to the shorebirds in this region.
Citation:
Morrison R.I.G. & Ross R.K. (1989) Atlas of Nearctic shorebirds on the coast of South America. Canadian Wildlife Service Ottawa (Canada).
I am reviewing a new paper by Sjoerd Duijns, a student working on the benefits of being a fat shorebird. Still, a draft, the paper analyses data from radio-tagged red knots leaving the Bay in good condition (i.e. fat) and finds they may leave later from Delaware Bay than lighter birds but arrive earlier in the breeding grounds because they can pick the best time to leave. They are also more likely to breed successfully and survive the Arctic breeding season to the following fall. In other words, being a fat knot on Delaware Bay makes life good.
So, in light of this new information, how did the red knots and other shorebirds fare in this year’s Delaware Bay Stopover? One must not be firm, with so many unknowns, but here’s a working biologist’s best guess.
By all accounts it was one of the worst years in recent memory, but with a twist that offers a glimmer of hope.
First, the Bay’s water reflected an unusually cool May and never really warmed to the levels necessary for a really good horseshoe crab spawn until the very end. This caused odd occurrences of crab spawning. For example, crabs bred in greater densities at the southern beaches this year, more than in previous years. The spawn at Norburys Landing, just south of the commercial oyster aquaculture development zone (ADZ), was one of the best this year, and knots and other shorebirds used the area in great number. One can only guess the water temperatures warmed over the wide inter-tidal flats provided just enough to elicit spawning. The same process was true of all the creeks on the Bay.
Second, the knot numbers never really climbed to the levels of the last three years. I’m guessing this was illusory, a consequence of the count being done on two days at the peak. It’s likely many more birds came to the Bay and seeing many birds for too few eggs, left for better resources elsewhere. Those that left were probably short distance winterers – those from relatively close in Florida and other nearby areas. The Bay’s horseshoe crab eggs would help them too, but they can get by on Atlantic Coast clams and mussels. The long-distance birds are the ones that need the Bay’s resources.
Third, when finally, the spawn got underway, a freak concurrence of wind and tide killed many thousands of crabs, potentially damaging the population and very likely ending any possibility of a really great spawn. The cobblestone road of crabs on the water’s edge. We saw none of that this year. Not once.
Grim results, but here’s the twist. In good years, knots leave near the 27th of May. One day they jam the beach gobbling up eggs, the next day there gone. In bad years, they linger. In 2003, we caught birds on the June 10th. There’s a cost to this of course, in lower survival and failing production. This year was a new in between. By the time of departure on May 27th, less than a quarter of the knots were prepared to leave. But they hung on until the 30th, blessed with a new flush of horseshoe crab eggs created by a middling spawn and a northwesterly wind churning up the beaches and exposing deeply buried eggs. Did the birds gain enough weight?
It’s hard to say, our last catch of just 33 knots suggests they might have, but an end-of-the-season catch makes a poor assessment. Once birds start leaving, the ones behind could be the light birds not ready to leave, or the heavy birds waiting for better weather. We won’t really know until the fall counts in the southbound stopover or the winter count in Tierra del Fuego.
This, our 21st season of intense research and conservation on Delaware Bay by all accounts will be like no other. Throughout all of it, the team of scientists and volunteers remained inspired, energetic and resourceful. In this one month, we conducted more scientific investigation and conservation than most projects do in an entire year. Whatever the outcome of this year’s stopover season, our team can look hopefully to the north and know that all that could be done for the birds was done.
Those of us that were paid for our time sincerely thank those who volunteered their time including; the stewards that manned the closed beaches helping hundreds of people understand why closures were needed; the volunteers in the banding team who endured long hours of preparing equipment, making bands, sewing nets and keeping cages and of course counting, catching and processing birds; the volunteers who doggedly pursue opportunities to resight flagged birds to estimate numbers and yearly survival; the volunteers that provided meals every single night, a welcome relief from a hard day’s work; and finally, the volunteers that went out all over the Bay to save horseshoe crabs in weather both good and bad. We all did our best. God help the birds and horseshoe crabs.
Dr. Larry Niles has led efforts to protect red knots and horseshoe crabs for over 30 years.
Our latest catch of red knots and ruddy turnstones two days ago (May 27) suggests 2017 to be one of the most challenging years for our 20 years of work on Delaware Bay. It challenged the birds for certain.
For example, as of two days ago (May 27), the average weights of red knots remain mired in the mid 160’s when it should be in the 180-gram range. This seems a minor difference but to red knots it means a flight through the cold and often inhospitable north country of Canada and dropping out of the sky never to be seen again or landing and never attempting to breed. We really don’t know for sure what happens to ill-prepared shorebirds, except they are less likely to be seen ever again. In 2017 most birds will be ill prepared.
This season also challenged our understanding because it lies so far outside the norm. To be sure the cause of this dramatic scarcity of horseshoe crab eggs springs from the cold weather this May. We started with a good crab spawn in the first week of May, when water temperatures rose somewhat faster than normal, a consequence no doubt of one of the warmest winters on record. Then cold and wet weather dogged the Bayshore until the day of this post. Today, temperatures will rise no higher than 70 degrees Fahrenheit and the prospects for warmer weather are unlikely for the rest of the week. The cold air temperatures forced down the bay temperature in the second week and although it has gradually improved it is still low by normal standards.
All of this led to generally diminished horseshoe crab eggs especially on the beaches, the mainstay of most stopovers of the past. This year crabs mostly spawned in the creek mouth and outer creeks shoals, mostly spurred to spawn by tidal waters warmed by the movement in and out of the small estuarine systems. Water moves in with the tide and out again to the creek mouths twice a day warming the shoals.
The Importance of Tidal Creek Mouths and Shoals
The creeks also accumulate sand leaving them loose and perfect for crab spawning. Even in good years, egg densities in the creeks top all beaches, no matter where they occur. The sands of the shoals loosen by the waves of the Bay and release more buried eggs than those buried in the beaches, making more available to the birds. The creek mouths on the Cape May peninsula from Green Creek to Moores Creek saved the birds from an even worse fate this year and the best were those that benefited from the restoration of Reeds, Cooks, Kimbles and Pierce Point Beaches. As it happens a major portion of the Bay’s knots stayed in this area throughout the entire month but flying widely in search of pockets of good spawning in other places. This year Norbury’s in the south and Goshen in the north stood out, and extended the core stopover area.
Spawning Starts Again
Then in the last three days all changed. The new moon tides, reaching around 8 feet for four nights in a row, spurred spawning despite the relatively cool water. Today, May 29, the crabs shifted into high gear.
It takes a lot of crabs breeding to bring eggs to the surface on the beaches, there must be enough breeding for one crab to dig up the eggs of another. For the first time, this occurred in the last few night and we finally saw green eggs on the sand. A welcoming sight for the birds, who could barely stand still and gobble up the fat producing eggs. With most of these Arctic nesting shorebirds remaining in the Bay and apparently feeding right into the night, they still might reach the fat gain finish line and only lose a few days reaching the Arctic. The next few days will tell.
Can they though? A good question and just one of the many that have challenged our team’s knowledge of this well-known stopover. With literally centuries of combined experience (many of our team, including this author, are long in the tooth as the Brits would say) we still kept guessing what would happen next throughout the season. Would the birds suffer mighty declines as a consequence of the generally diminished spawn of horseshoe crabs? Or will they build weight in time to get to the Arctic in good condition? This is usually the central question.
Why Are There Fewer Knots?
An equally intriguing question, however, is why have red knot numbers in Delaware Bay declined this year? We estimate shorebird numbers in two ways, direct observation by aerial and ground counts and a statistically derived estimate based on the resighting of birds flagged with unique IDs. Our aerial and ground counts tell us how one year compares to another because we have been doing shorebirds counts by airplane, boat and on the ground since 1981. This year the number fell dramatically.
At the start of our project on Delaware Bay in 1986, we had nearly 100,000 knots on the Bay and nearly 1.5 million shorebirds of all species. The number of knots declined to around 15,000 in the mid-2000’s, then jumped to over 24,000 over the last four years. This year our best estimate is around 17,969, a 5,000-bird decline. Why did this happen?
One must always consider the possibility of a large group of birds dying. But this is not likely.
More likely, some portion of the knot flock came to the Bay, and on finding too few eggs or too much competition, moved on to better places. The ones moving on could have been the short distance migrants, those who spent their winter in Southeast US or the Caribbean. These birds travel a shorter distance and so have a longer time and lower energy needs than those that winter in South America. These long-distance migrants would have a very difficult time gaining weight on anything other than crab eggs (I explained this in a previous post). There are two reasons to believe the short distance birds moved on from the Bay this year.
The first is the discovery of birds banded in Delaware Bay this year and reported elsewhere. I reported on Mark Faherty’s Ebird report of a knot he saw in Cape Cod, that was flagged by the Delaware Bay Shorebird Team on May 16, 2017. The second line of evidence is the 1,300 birds seen by our team feeding on a 10-mile stretch of the Atlantic Coast marsh from Cape May to Stone Harbor. Play this out over the entire coast of New Jersey and other places with sand and marsh, like Cape Cod, and one could easily imagine 5,000 knots using other places.
But this reduction in population also suggests an explanation for the sudden rise in numbers found in 2013. Did the restoration of habitat on the Delaware Bay coast bring back knots that once used the Bay but stopped because of the lack of available eggs? In other words, did the increase in numbers seen in the Bay reflect a return of birds and not a population increase? This year’s loss may simply be a result of those returning birds, leaving once again.
Let’s hope so. At any rate, eggs are now available to all birds in the Bay and we should start seeing them leave for the Arctic. Let’s hope for that too.
Dr. Larry Niles has led efforts to protect red knots and horseshoe crabs for over 30 years.
Four days ago, the shorebirds of Delaware Bay could look forward to a bright future. But in the last week their chances for survival and good production have diminished. In fact, they are as dismal as the cold drizzle pockmarking the murky water in front of our house on Reeds Beach.
The following two graphs tell the story. We captured red knots on May 12 and 16 that showed a normal, although not spectacular progression. Then we made a catch of knots on the 19th and again today on the 23rd, and in total they gained only 2 grams of fat per day. With an average weight of 144 grams at this late date and only 7 days to go before they must leave for the Arctic, their future looks bleak. If current conditions hold, the knots will suffer their worst year in 14 years. Turnstones fared no better gaining less than a gram per day on average.
So why this dismal report? Several factors are at work that were covered in my last post. The water temperature of the bay has only just exceeded the threshold for horseshoe crabs to start breeding in earnest. But the nights are cold and the water temperature remains cold. Last night was the first good crab spawn since the birds arrived and it was lackluster. Although there is some spawning in the creek mouth shoals and the lower beaches near Norburys Landing and Villas, our most productive beaches remain nearly devoid of crabs and crab eggs.
The second problem is still a mystery. At this stage only about half of the red knots have found their way into the bay. Weather patterns in the southern US could have been blocking migration for the last 5 days because adverse winds, poor visibility and rain impedes birds progress and could stop northward movement. The conditions have finally let up, so it possible a new cohort of birds might arrive any day. If so they will face a true food fight with many birds already here and desperate for eggs.
However, it may not be the adverse weather but choice that is keeping the population down. Today we learned of a red knot banded on May 16 this year by our counterparts in Delaware that was resighted in Cape Cod by Mark Faherty, the senior scientist for Massachusetts Audubon in Cape Cod. In other words, red knots and other shorebirds are coming to the bay finding too little food or too much competition for the food now available and choose to move on. This is very possible for the short distance migrants because they arrive earlier and have less weight to gain before leaving for the Arctic. Knots wintering in Tierra del Fuego, arrive later and in much worse condition, often times lose muscle mass to get here. They cannot recover that loss and still gain an extra 80 grams on their normal diet of mussels and clams.
We tried to test this second possibility today (May 23) after our red knot catch this morning. Humphrey Sitters, Amanda Dey and I surveyed the intertidal mud flats of the Atlantic Coast from Cape May to Stone Harbor looking closely at the mussel beds. We know that every year red knots, especially short distance birds, use mussels and to some extent clams, rather than come to the bay and feast on horseshoe crab eggs – simply because they can. We found 1700 knots, so it possible even more are spread out further up and down the coast.
In the end, it may turn out to be both explanations. The short distance knots are using the Atlantic Coast and the long-distance birds have yet to arrive. One should remember that the knot is federally listed in both Canada and the US primarily because of the dramatic declines in the long-distance winters. There is still a small window for a successful outcome. The next few days will tell the full story.
Dr. Larry Niles has led efforts to protect red knots and horseshoe crabs for over 30 years.
Over the last few days of our expedition, we left the state of Para and flew to Sao Luis in the adjacent state of Maranhao. There we began the next phase of our work, trapping red knots, ruddy turnstones and other species, as we have done since 2014.
But prior to leaving Para, while we stayed in the village of Apiu Salvatore, the fishermen asked to meet with Max. He hadn’t planned it, so at first, the reason was unknown. The fishermen of the village knew Max represented ICMBio, and that Apiu Salvatore fell within Resex Gurupi-Piria, one of the Brazilian agency’s many extractive or Resex reserves. As I described in the previous post, ICMBio conserves natural resources in each reserve for the benefit of traditional communities, such as this one. So Max had a good idea what the community had on their mind.
We entered the large open meeting space under a thatch roof with a good breeze cooled by a sudden evening downpour. The association leader, Antonio, got down to business. He explained the problem of immense ships lurking offshore, spreading giant purse seines or immense lines of baited hooks, and stealing all the fish. It threatened their own lives, not only their livelihoods but their very existence. One could see very clearly how vital fish were to these fishermen. The community consumed virtually no goods; most of their daily needs came from the sea or their backyards. Chickens, pigs, even lambs filled backyards. Fruit like mangos and avocados literally fell from the trees. I saw no washing machines, microwaves, coffeemakers, or nearly any of the appliances that litter a typical U.S. kitchen.
There was one modern device found in every hut and cabin, no matter how small or dilapidated. All had TVs. How, I imagine, can they fit in this primitive world while gapping at the lives of the rich and famous? These were not people ignorant of the world, but unfortunately, they could be innocent as lambs when faced with the greedy schemers and politicians of Brazil. And as the ongoing corruption scandals here evolve, it seems like nearly every politician serves their own or other greedy interests.
So it is understandable that the fishermen’s first thought was to go to the Catholic Church. But then we came. So they asked for Max’s advice.
He quickly determined the fisherman had no idea they had legal rights to the fishery. He patiently explained the concept of ICMBio reserve system, the system of which they are a part. In theory, they could unify and certify their observations, take it to a judge and get a decision that would force the government to stop the theft by the international fishing fleet, at least in principle. Max and Danielle explained these rights and the group seemed sufficiently inspired. At least they left happy.
Why did they not know their rights? Max explained to me that the reserve manager for this area covered 60 other villages and that ICMBio has suffered 3 years of budget cuts. He reminded me how long it took to get to this village. So it’s the usual story familiar to U.S. agency biologists. Here, as it is in rural U.S., but with a more obvious impact, starving good government often only starves the people who live on the land, the land itself and the wildlife, who depend upon it.
For me, it meant something more. We proposed this project to create better protection for shorebirds. We took the usual approach. First, do the surveys then will create scientifically defensible descriptions of the habitat’s value. Finally, we overlay the threats: shrimp farming, oil spills, human disturbance, predators etc. then develop counter-measures.
I learned that nigh there is only one threat in this, one of the most important shorebird habitats in the world. It looms large above all others – if you erode ICMBio’s system of protection all the other threats will grow and decimate the fragile ecology of the area. Grow the ICMbio system and the traditional communities will enforce their legal right to conserve. They can monitor the threats and work with the agency to stop them. The laws already exist. The monitoring system is already in place. But this meeting pointed out they need more help.
Dr. Larry Niles has led efforts to protect red knots and horseshoe crabs for over 30 years.
The capture of Arctic nesting shorebirds first brought us to Brazil in 2013. We brought 125 geolocators and caught both ruddy turnstones and red knots, attaching 85 on the former and 30 on the latter. But we also came to create a new perspective on shorebirds in this place, one of the most important shorebird habitats in the world.
For all intents and purposes, shorebird work in this area started in the mid 1980’s, when Canadian biologists, Guy Morrison and Ken Ross surveyed from an airplane, the entire coast of South America. In this monumental and dangerous survey they established an invaluable historic baseline of the number of Arctic nesting shorebirds wintering in South America. This was before shorebirds caught the interest of the public, and way before foundations and agencies devoted significant funding or staff time. They surveyed the entire continent, but on the coast of Maranhao and Para they found the motherlode of shorebirds. They did not, however, get close and personal.
That challenge belonged to a team led by the late Allan Baker of the Royal Ontario Museum and Ines Serrano, then with CEMAVE, the Brazilian counterpart of USGS. They also flew the coast but followed up with a ground survey and the capture of a small group of red knots. Along with Guy and Ken, their work cemented the hemispheric importance of this area.
Over the last 4 years we captured knots, turnstones, sanderlings, whimbrels, collared plovers, semi-palmated sandpipers, semi-palmated plovers as well as South American terns and other species. Last year we recaptured 20 geolocators in a catch of over a hundred ruddy turnstones. But only in 2013 were we able to catch red knots. Although abundant in the region, populations are estimated at 10 to 15K, they are remote and elusive.
So we were happy to find on our first day of surveillance this year over 400 red knots. They roosted within a flock of about 1000 shorebirds located at the west end of a small working class beach resort called Panaquatira, about an hour out of Sao Luis. The flock including black bellied plovers, semi-palmated sandpipers and plovers, collared plovers, South American terns, Black Skimmers and a few whimbrels. We readied that night for an early morning attempt.
First we needed to figure out the tide. It rises and falls 13 feet in northern Brazil, twice that in Delaware Bay. The spring tide or full and new moon tide increases the range to 18 feet. Consequently, the high tide line moves every day and catching birds with a cannon net depends on placing the net near the predicted tide line, because birds move with it to stay as far from the dangers lurking on dry land. Wind speed and direction changes the high tide line, and so does barometric pressure.
So much rides on where we place the net. On our first two attempts, we missed by just a few yards, but it could have been a mile. The birds moved with the tide and stood just outside the 30 by 100-foot area within which the birds must be to be caught. We tried moving them but they spooked and most gradually left the area altogether. Ultimately, we fired but caught only two knots and two whimbrels.
We were blessed on the third day. We arrived near dawn, over four hours before high tide so we had plenty of time to measure elevations. We knew the morning’s high would be about four inches lower than the previous night’s high, which snaked along the sandy peninsula used by the birds to roost. Standing on the tide line we used a method borrowed from Clive Minton to determine the location on the beach four inches lower.
Laying my head flat on the sand I trained my eye towards the horizon. This establishes a level line. Using her hand, Stephanie marks four inches on her leg than moves until the four inch mark lines up with the level line. Her location depends on the slope of the beach. In this way we determined the location of the tide line four hours hence. We dug in the net.
At about an hour before high tide, shorebirds started crowding into the area around the net. At first, oystercatchers, black bellies, short-billed dowitchers and a small flock of skimmers. Most of the knots hung back on an adjacent sand bar. With a little push, they too piled in right into the catch area.
We fired and caught 175 knots, 30 sanderlings, 20 short-billed dowitchers and 5 black-bellied plovers. Among the knots were 3 with geolocators. We flagged, banded and measured 145 birds, all the while releasing unprocessed birds that appeared stressed by the heat. By late afternoon we were back at the house cracking open beers. We completed all our objectives with one day to spare.
Dr. Larry Niles has led efforts to protect red knots and horseshoe crabs for over 30 years.
Hundreds of red knots found to cap long day’s journey
By Larry Niles, LJ Niles Associates LLC
It took us long into the night to reach our next port. We went from the relatively populated area of Braganza to the dark heart of this coastal region of Viseu. In three trucks, we caravanned through a maze of remnant tropical rainforests, cattle pastures, and impenetrable second-growth woodlands. Along the rain-slicked, red clay road, small and desperate looking towns popped out of nowhere always looking like the past was a better day. The road cut through countless mangrove forests that define this region. We reached Viseu too late to do anything but find a place to stay the night.
By noon the next day, we boarded a Lancha boat named Garota Viseu (Viseu Girl). Local shipwrights craft these two-decker boats of about 50 feet in length, primarily to carry cargo and people from port to port. Today it will carry us into one of the most remote estuaries in the 250-mile coastline of this enormous mangrove and beach landscape. Our captain, 78-year-old Benedicto, with one crew navigated the coffee- colored Gurupi, a long river that cuts deep into the tropical coastline.
Bene took his craft down the Gurupi within sight of the wind-tossed Atlantic Ocean. The trade winds blow constantly here, almost always at near gale levels. But then he turned into a small channel directly into the steamy mangrove forest. At first the path was wide, lined with a dense tangle of mangrove on either side. Whimbrels, scarlet ibis, semi-palmated sandpipers clung to tangles of roots as the high tide flooded the soft mud.
Then he took the boat in a channel so narrow, the crew had to duck the whipsaw of mangrove branches. We slowly snaked our way through a tunnel of green until we reached another wide channel. Within a few minutes, we entered another narrow channel ultimately reaching the next bay. Here we felt the full force of the stiff winds and deep rolling swell of the Atlantic. An hour later we weighed anchor at the small community of Apiu Salvadore.
Few people from the outside world come to this community of about 50 ramshackle huts and cabins and about 150 people. As the boat neared the shore with most of the team standing on the roof of the boat, scattered groups of the town’s people stood on the sandy bluffs overlooking the harbor as though we just landed from space. Ultimately, we found them welcoming but wary. Little good comes from the outside to these communities.
Over the next two days, we plied our craft of field biology. We needed to find small boats to take teams to the various shorebird habitats previously determined on our maps. Local craftsmen build these boats. Running about 20 feet in length, they use 10 to 20 horse power engines meant for something like a lawn tractor. Instead of driving a blade, the craftsmen power a long shaft that ends in a 8-inch propeller. The skipper can lift the engine and propeller according to the water’s depth. They suited our needs perfectly.
We fielded five teams in three in boats while Mandy, David Santos, Carmem and I surveyed Lombo Branco Island, about two miles from the Apiu Salvador. The sea shapes this island into a crescent, the inside protected from the restless waves. Nestled within, one could see in miniature, the whole ecological system that creates resources for shorebirds.
At the heart of the island grows a small and stunted mangrove forest and an apicum, or wetland that only floods during lunar tides or spring tides. These are the highest of the monthly cycle of tides but only occur on the full and new moon. Every day the tide moves in and out of this small system. Twice a month the tide floods the apicum for several days at a time.
We arrived on the day of a waxing moon, near full. The very high-high tides reached well within the small drainage flooding habitats that have not been flooded in a few weeks. Shorebirds carpeted the wet mud, searching for all the invertebrate life that flourishes in this habitat. But the productivity only starts there. Here the tidal flow is gentle because the island shields it from the wind tossed Atlantic from all sides except the leeward quarter of the island. This gentle tidal flow flushes sediments from the mangrove swamp, the nutrients of the apicum and the normal productivity of a sediment-rich sandy substrate, forming the base layer of a productive food chain that nurtures small clams and other invertebrate – all prey for shorebirds.
We found whimbrels, semi-palmated sandpipers, ruddy turnstones, short-billed dowitchers, black belly plovers, willets, semi-palmated plovers, sanderlings and collared plovers. In the lower reaches, we found 337 knots, a glorious find that will help our mapping model enormously.
The following day we surveyed a second island, Coroa Criminosa. Why the sinister name we cannot say, but it supported a very similar esturary giving us another successful day. When the tide went out the small island of about 6 kilometers grew to over 20 kilometers. Intertidal sand flats spread out of sight in nearly all directions.
We left the island that night and arrived in Viseu just before dark. Once again we suffered the sway of the Atlantic. After weaving our way back through the mangrove and up the Gurupi River, we landed too late to go on. We were thankful for the modest rooms with showers, a good meal and beer!