Lower Whatcom Creek: An Urban Treasure

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.

When I was growing up, as soon as my small band of cronies and I were old enough to set off for adventure more than a block away from home, we headed to a special place. To grownups and kids who didn’t know any better, it was either an old stormwater channel that crossed town from east to west or just a big ditch where all the rice fields drained in late summer before the harvest in the fall. To those of us who loved the place, it was known as … the gully!

The gully was our escape whenever we had the time to get away from whatever chores or other things parents might have found for us to do. It was only six blocks away, but the buffer that the gully provided was more than adequate to escape. It was especially perfect in the summer when the trees on both banks leafed out and provided a perfect canopy for shade. The combination of shade and moving water made for a wonderful way to survive the heat and humidity of south Louisiana summers. It was also significantly deeper than the surrounding terrain, so we had our own ravine (of course, we were all pretty short back then).

Aside from the topographic anomaly that it was, the gully was also filled with wild critters! An assortment of fish, including needle-nosed gar and catfish, plied the waters and many birds frequented the riparian corridor. Snakes were always plentiful in the summer and were usually kept at a respectful distance. An exotic treat in the gully were the leeches that we would find on whatever bare skin we might have exposed in the tepid water. No matter the nuisance they provided, that was part of the adventure and our own version of “The African Queen”!

The total length of our little playground was less than a mile. About three blocks from our favorite entry spot, the gully drained into a giant culvert and disappeared to flow under the center of town for almost two miles before it came into view again. Many times we were tempted to venture into the pitch black of that culvert and do some real exploring, but we were not equipped for an expedition of that sort. I think that was our collective excuse anyway. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the unknown or imagined terror that might lurk in the inky depths!

Memories of the gully came pouring out on my last walk along lower Whatcom Creek. This is the part of the creek that flows through town between Cornwall Avenue and its mouth where it enters the Whatcom Waterway and Bellingham Bay, beneath Roeder Avenue. I was especially reminded of my old haunt when I walked through the canopy of trees that covers the trail between Grand Avenue and the Pickett Bridge. After more than 55 years, I had returned to … the gully!

Right in the middle of the civic center, behind city hall and the main post office, is a true treasure for all to enjoy. Between Grand Avenue and Holly Street, the well-maintained trails on both sides of the creek allow easy access and travel with a wonderful opportunity to see any number of birds throughout the year. The expanse of Maritime Heritage Park is there for picnics and such, should you plan to linger for a while.

Fishermen stand shoulder to shoulder on both sides of the creek when salmon return to the hatchery in the fall. Dippers have also become regular visitors when they know there are salmon eggs to be found below the falls. As the creek flows under the Pickett Bridge when the runoff is heavy, the sound of the falls can be deafening.

Two perfectly planned overlooks provide great viewing and listening opportunities above the falls. You have only to look up and see the courthouse or the post office to be reminded of where you are.

On recent walks during early summer, I’ve had up-close and personal encounters with one particular great blue heron that fishes below the falls with admirable success. Surprise sightings below the falls have been a trio of juvenile hooded mergansers, a lone common merganser, a pair of gadwalls, and as many as four belted kingfishers. I suspect the kingfishers come from a nesting burrow behind the Mexican restaurant on Holly Street. In winter, when the high tide fills the wide basin below the falls, harbor seals, loons, cormorants and a variety of ducks can be observed.

When you reach Holly Street, beyond which awaits an array of possibilities in the expansive Whatcom Waterway, simply cross over to the opposite side of the creek and return to your starting point. As you progress upstream and get back into the trees, keep an eye out for owls. Just downstream from Grand Avenue is where barred and great horned owls have been observed in the past, especially during the colder months. Passerine species are frequently sighted along this stretch of the creek as well.

For a walk on the wild side, you need not drive too far. I live three blocks away, so it’s an easy trip back to the gully for me. I plan once again to lead monthly walks along this part of the creek from September through May as part of the field trip schedule for the North Cascades Audubon Society. To check for specific dates of the walks, go to the chapter’s website at www.northcascadesaudubon.org for more information. The walks are easy and quite relaxing since we take our time to experience the wonder of this urban treasure. If we encounter rain or snow, we will walk the creek!

By now, everyone is surely aware of the spectacle that’s been taking place on the site of the old Georgia-Pacific pulp mill on the Whatcom Waterway and south of Chestnut Street. A nesting colony of Caspian terns—the world’s largest tern species—that numbered about 250 birds last year has grown to more than 2,000 this year. The demolition of old buildings and the subsequent grading of the area have created a reasonable facsimile of the terns’ ideal nesting habitat. Somehow, along the avian hotline perhaps, word spread about the suitability of Bellingham as a nesting site.

I’ve spent many hours on the site this summer, sometimes with a biologist from Oregon State University, sharing data and attempting to spot banded birds. In the process, it was determined that some of the birds were banded as chicks at the Dungeness Spit colony and others on East Sand Island on the Columbia River near Astoria, Oregon. One bird was observed that was banded on an island in the Columbia near Pasco this year, about 5-6 weeks before this writing (mid-July).

It’s nothing short of spectacular to spend time with these unique birds, and to have them nesting so close to downtown is a real treat. As the colony grows, however, its future rests in the hands of the decision makers. There would be a considerable economic benefit to the area if birdwatchers knew they could come to Bellingham in the summer to see an active Caspian tern nesting colony. Combine that with the wintering birds on Bellingham Bay and Whatcom Creek and that translates to tourist dollars! It might be worth looking into for future reference.

High counts from Friday-Saturday, July 9-10: 2,050 adults and 378 chicks. §