Caspian Farewell and an Urban Snipe Hunt

Joe Meche is president of the North Cascades Audubon Society and also serves the chapter as newsletter editor and birding programs coordinator. He has been watching birds for more than 50 years and photographing birds and landscapes for more than 30 years.

As I write this column on the last day of summer, the once bustling Caspian tern colony at the old G-P mill site has just about closed for the winter. Most of the birds have headed south and yesterday’s count yielded less than one hundred individual birds, which were very quiet and noticeably not enjoying the chilly breeze off the bay. I can’t say that I was enjoying it, either! Fall seems to be rushing in and we’re never quite ready for it.

On this sunny and warmer afternoon, there were even fewer birds, but a number of chicks that are still two to three weeks away from fledging. The adults are still delivering fish to the young, and these particular birds are more than likely among the late nesters. As the avian word spread throughout the Northwest, new terns kept arriving throughout the summer creating the second-largest Caspian tern nesting colony on the Pacific Coast – just a few blocks from the heart of downtown Bellingham!

My visits to the site now tend to be bittersweet, especially when the visit includes a carcass count. Given that more than one thousand chicks hatched and fledged on the site, I still feel a twinge of sadness when I locate yet another casualty. This feeling is especially poignant when a dead bird is bearing the colored bands and one specific alpha-numeric band that tell us that this bird was a member of the Bellingham Class of 2010. On the other hand, there are reports of Bellingham birds being observed on the beaches and estuaries in southern Oregon.

At the peak of the nesting season, the site was wonderfully chaotic, filled with a natural sound that very few can say they truly enjoy. I number myself in that category. I spent hours at a time, perched on my stool one hundred feet away from the western edge of the colony, counting birds, taking notes, and constantly in awe of what I was experiencing. I was buzzed frequently by random birds that noticed me sitting there and decided to be territorial. If you understand that the birds always come as close to your head as possible without striking you, it becomes part of the excitement. It’s the harsh, raspy scream that accompanies this routine scare tactic that really gets your attention, especially when you don’t see it coming.

As we rode the wave of enthusiasm that swept across the old mill site and throughout the neighborhood as this summer story unfolded, we could only wonder about the future of Caspian terns in Bellingham. It is common knowledge that the area where the colony spent the summer is part of a prime piece of downtown real estate, albeit a very small part. The nesting site is tucked away in a far corner of the property that is outside the initial proposal for redevelopment. How many more breeding seasons can the terns enjoy here before they’re forced to relocate?

One aspect of this summer’s breeding bird bonanza that has yet to be brought to light is the potential of the site to attract bird watchers, who bolster local economies wherever they go to see birds. After I posted the news of the growing number of terns that were nesting here, I had at least three dozen e-mails requesting information and directions. Bird watchers travel to see birds and they spend money in the process. I should know.

A couple from Federal Way sent an e-mail of thanks and commented on the fact that they had never been to downtown Bellingham until the terns brought them here. They also commented on how much money they spent at the Greenhouse, how great the restaurants were, and how much they enjoyed the sunset over Bellingham Bay. Perhaps the future plans for the waterfront could include a small, yet unique sanctuary for seabirds like the Caspian tern.

Shifting gears ever so slightly, I had another opportunity to do a bit of close-up, hands-on birding recently. Instead of several thousand large seabirds and the accompanying clamor, my focus was narrowed considerably to a lone individual. A keen observer called me on Friday morning and said that he was pretty sure that a snipe was in his yard and might be injured. It appeared to him that the bird was trapped inside the fence and unable to fly. I fairly leaped into action and my first look confirmed that it was a Wilson’s snipe, a bird commonly found in wetlands or open fields – but not in the Eldridge neighborhood, in a quiet side yard two blocks from Elizabeth Park!

After assessing the situation, I realized that this bird needed help. The homeowner and I went through an inventory of items that we might use but nothing on hand fit the bill. She kept an eye on the snipe while I went to Yeager’s to pick up a salmon net for the capture. We moved into position and she drove the snipe toward me and into the reach of my net. This was a classic case of having a bird in the hand, and we all know what that’s worth. The snipe fussed a little but calmed considerably when I removed it from the net and placed it in a small cardboard box.

I made a few calls and eventually contacted the folks at the Northwest Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. This local non-profit organization has been caring for injured and orphaned wildlife since 2000. The center has a licensed wildlife rehabilitation specialist and a dedicated group of volunteers who treat wildlife at their facility on the Mount Baker Highway, or transport them to another center or veterinarian for further treatment, if necessary.

After I checked in with the snipe and turned it over to the staff for a physical exam, I was given a tour of the facility by Stacy Wise, the lead rehabilitator at the center. As we walked the grounds and checked in with all the animals on hand, I was impressed to see the variety of patients that were being housed and cared for on the site.

Orphaned fawns, raccoons, a short-eared owl, and even young gulls were all being cared for in a quiet setting – one that is essential for the recovery of these animals.

I had heard about the center and even joined the ad hoc audience for the release of a pair of trumpeter swans at Lake Terrell earlier this year, but this was my first visit to the center itself. It was a real eye-opener to say the least. The efficient manner in which they deal with each individual animal is admirable. The center is supported by donations from the public, so if you’re interested in getting involved, please visit their web site at http://www.northwestwildlife.org. The last report I received about the Wilson’s snipe was that it had been treated and released into a more suitable and snipe-friendly habitat.

The mind-boggling cacophony that prevailed at the nesting site of several thousand Caspian terns has hushed to barely a whisper as fall arrives, and my encounter with the snipe added a nice postscript to a memorable summer for me. As you read this, consider voicing your opinions about the benefits of a small wildlife sanctuary down by the waterfront and remember the Northwest Wildlife Rehabilitation Center if you encounter animals in distress throughout the year.

Enjoy! §