Journal of a Sabbatical

The Plover Warden Diaries

sanderlings and cigars

July 24, 1997




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Official Plover Count

Official Refuge count:

Adults

24

Fledglings

15

Hatchlings

3

Number I actually saw: 2

sanderlings

This year it seems like each plover warden shift I've done has had one dominant bird that set the tone for the whole day. Early in the season it was black bellied plovers, purple sandpipers, eiders, gannets (gannets!!!!). Then is was bank swallows. Mid-season it was least terns. Today it was sanderlings. A whole flock of them doing their cross between a precision drill team and a box of windup toys imitating a school of sardines. They ran back and forth along the water line as the tide came in, sometimes feeding, sometimes just running.

I was curious to see what they made of a picnic table that had washed in with the tide. It moved up and down with the waves but stayed pretty much where it was - didn't make it up onto the beach. The sanderlings avoided it. The gulls avoided it. The ubiquitous bank swallows and least terns made investigatory passes over it a few times and then moved on. I wonder if it was a s strange a sight to them as it was to me.

Late in the day, a pair of sanderlings took to hanging around at the refuge boundary about 8 to 10 feet in front of me. They came closer a few times and I froze in the hopes they would come close enough that I could photograph them with my pitiful 70mm lens. They didn't.

a cigar?

There's always one really odd visitor. Today's was a man carrying a soccer ball in one hand and a lighted cigar in the other. He wore a faded and frayed Plum Island sweatshirt. Two boys accompanied him - evidently sons out for some quality time with Dad. Cigar man gestured toward the refuge beach with his cigar and asked how far down it was closed, how long it would be closed, what are piping plovers anyway, were they those little guys running along the water line (the sanderlings), couldn't we just walk along the beach... all the while waving the cigar and juggling the soccer ball. He finally shook his head and said "I've been coming here for 8 years and I've never heard of such a thing!"

Leaving aside the question how he could've been there for 8 years and never heard of piping plovers, I offered one of the sons a brochure about the plovers since he actually seemed interested. The kid thanked me. The other kid ran off into the dunes when he found out he didn't have to play soccer on the beach. Cigar man walked off shaking his head and juggling his soccer ball. The cigar smoke lingered in the air for half an hour after he left despite the strong winds.

disappearing trespassers

Despite the fact that I only talked to 7 people all day, it was a pretty exciting shift. Within the first 20 minutes I got bit by a greenhead and spotted two women trespassing in the closed beach area. They were too far away for me to contact - I tried waving my arms but I don't think they could see me at all. I radioed the gatehouse, who radioed the south plover warden. Negative contact. Why don't these radios work at the south end of the beach? With all this miracle technology that is supposed to make it so we can be reached all the time everywhere and we can work on the beach or in the bathtub, why can't the gatehouse contact the south plover warden to get those people away from the plover chicks?

After failing to contact the south plover warden or law enforcement, I watched the trespassers for awhile and then had to deal with cigar man and various other visitors with questions. When I looked again, the two women were nowhere in sight. As they hadn't passed me, I figured they'd gone into the dunes - or thru a gap in the space time continuum. So I notified the gatehouse that they had disappeared and she shouldn't bother trying to get law enforcement.

where's the fire?

A few minutes later, the gatehouse radioed that she smelled smoke and wanted me to look for fires. I scanned the beach with my binoculars. No fire. I walked up into the dunes by the boardwalk and checked the dunes. I could smell but not see fire. I radioed the gatehouse - I don't see any fires. By the time I got back down to my station, the two disappearing women had reappeared and were walking blithely off the refuge and strolling down the public beach. Grrrr.

Later the gatehouse notified me the smoke was coming from off the refuge property.

It got cold in the late afternoon and I ended up wearing both the sweatshirts I'd packed. Greenheads can bite through denim and through two layers of sweatshirts, but they are subdued by strong winds and cold weather. My one greenhead bite continued to swell and itch like crazy but I didn't get anymore. The sky got grayer and grayer but the predicted rain did not happen.

three cheese pasta and piping plover fridge magnets

After my shift I went into Newburyport and treated myself to three cheese pasta at The Tannery Cafe and a long browse at Jabberwocky. It was my second browse of the day as I had visited there briefly before my shift. I refrained from buying books. I've got to get this unread book problem under control.

My last stop was The Birdwatcher of Newburyport, where I bought a hand painted piping plover fridge magnet. I compared notes about piping plover hostility with one of the owners. Then somebody came in and started talking about wrens.

I stopped at Benson's for red raspberry ice cream on the way home.

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