The Color Purple for Sandpiper at Pews Creek

It's late February and every day the sun is setting later and later. The other day, while walking along a rock jetty that jutted out into Sandy Hook Bay, I spotted a few small, stout shorebirds making good use of the sun's fading light. 

The small birds were wandering around from rock to rock in search of a tasty meal of small critters: tiny mollusks, crustaceans, worms, or aquatic insects.  I imagined this must have been their last meal of the day before finding a safe place to roost for the night. 

The Pews Creek jetty located in Port Monmouth and situated downstream from New York City is not well-known for its shorebirds. Upstream, the adjoining 137 acres of tidal wetlands along the creek embodies one of the largest uninterrupted area of salt marsh habitat along Sandy Hook Bay and Raritan Bay. The Pews Creek floodplain is home to a wide assortment of wildlife including feeding and breeding Great Egrets, Great Blue Heron, Mallards, Harriers, Fiddler Crabs, Ribbed Mussels, Blue Crab, Spearing, Killies, and Diamondback Terrapins. Yet, for whatever reason, many small shorebirds seem to turn their backs here.

For today, however, a little more nature seemed to have found the tidal mouth of Pews Creek.  These were Purple Sandpipers in winter plumage. Not a common visitor to Pews Creek, but occasionally they show up in small numbers to forage among the mussel beds and washed up seaweed. 

Unlike some other sandpipers that can be found scurrying around the beach in search of food, Purple Sandpipers are regularly encountered on man-made coastal objects including jetties and breakwaters. They birds seem to love the strong  surge and tidal action found on low wave-washed rocks near the water's edge.

With camera in hand, I observed as these "rock" birds moved rapidly among the cracks and crevices on the rock jetty in a quick quest for tiny tidbits of food. Seemingly unafraid of either me or the surf. The Purple Sandpipers would only pull out to scuttle up onto drier rocks to escape large pounding waves or maybe take a quick nap. Afterward they would flutter down one by one onto the wet rocks to forage once more. This waltz went on over and over until sundown. Then the birds took wing eastward towards Sandy Hook or the Atlantic Ocean, but not to be seen again by me.

Purple Sandpipers are part of the winter bird population that calls the urban-suburban  waters of Lower New York Bay home, including Raritan Bay and Sandy Hook Bay. Small numbers of these birds arrive to New York Harbor from remote, isolated breeding grounds on islands in the Canadian high Arctic, over 2,000 miles away. In all likelihood the birds follow the coast down during fall migration to their favorite winter habitat, usually long rock jetties along the Atlantic Coast. 

Purple Sandpipers often occur in small numbers at their much loved winter sites, about a half-a-dozen to maybe 30 or sometimes more. Purple Sandpipers are relatively quiet, dark-colored birds that blend in well with their dim rocky surroundings. If not careful you could miss seeing them altogether. The birds were less than 10 feet away before I spotted them on the jetty.

As I headed home in the early evening I was happy to have taken time out to observe some wild nature within metropolitan New York City. All it took was the sight of Purple Sandpipers to remind me that the urban-suburban sprawl caused by decades of poor-planning by ill-informed people is not all embracing. Due to former preservation efforts by local citizens, the natural world can often be no farther away than a short journey down to your local waterway, in this case Pews Creek.

Wetlands at the shores of Manhattan

REBUILDING MANAHATTA
Saturday, February 16, 2013 - 9:52am
http://www.waterfrontalliance.org/
Imagine fresh, green wetlands at the shores of Manhattan. Picture them at the end of East 14th Street and at the East River shoreline between Rutgers Slip and the Brooklyn Bridge. If Manhattan Borough President Scott Stringer has his way, this is not just a vision of the past, but of the future.

New wetlands and other ecological improvements and infrastructure projects, such as enhancing the neglected beach under the Brooklyn Bridge and a new Eco Dock at Stuyvesant Cove, are part of Mr. Stringer's plan to revitalize and protect Manhattan's East River waterfront.

"Our goal," Mr. Stringer said in his State of the Borough address on February 7, "was to redesign an often forgotten stretch of our precious East Side waterfront, from the Brooklyn Bridge to East 38th Street. We wanted to open up the long-neglected area, creating parks, beachfront access and other amenities that would bring people closer to the water. But we also knew that we had to protect this low-lying area from the next catastrophic storm."

Mr. Stringer's plan, developed with State Assembly member Brian Kavanagh and by WXY Architecture and Urban Design studio, calls for natural beaches along the shoreline, wetlands to filter stormwater runoff, and more. It builds on years of community meetings as well as input from other elected officials, state and city government agencies, design firms and more than 40 community-based organizations such as settlement houses, tenant associations, environmental groups, waterfront advocates, neighborhood associations, local schools and hospitals. It expands on plans put forth by government agencies for the East River, notably the NYC Economic Development Corporation's East River Waterfront Esplanade plan and the Bloomberg Administration's Vision 2020 NYC Comprehensive Waterfront Plan. "This is a roadmap to recovery built by the community and for the community," said Mr. Stringer.

While the Borough President has allocated $3.5 million toward construction of East River wetlands, other proposals in his plan are not funded.

When is a Gull Not a Seagull

Last Sunday was another frostbite morning with air temperatures in the mid-teens at first light. The day wore on, but the winds blew mightily from the north with gusts up to 35 mph. Even with brilliant sunshine, temperatures had a hard time reaching freezing. It was another winter's day around the Lower New York Bay urban-suburban environment.

(Bonaparte's Gull in winter plumage)

Visiting the Morgan Mudflats in South Amboy has become a ritual this winter. With Sandy Hook National Recreation Area closed due to ongoing repairs from Super-storm Sandy, all of sudden alternative wildlife sites around the bay have taken on new interest. The mudflats along Raritan Bay in South Amboy, part of the Raritan Bay Waterfront Park,  have not disappointed. It's a local birding site containing a batch of different  coastal habitats including a salt marsh, a nearby forest, and, of course, a mud flat. In recent visits I have seen Northern Harriers, Buffleheads, Common Goldeneyes, Red-breasted Mergansers, Sanderlings, loons, and even an occasional Great Cormorant perched on one of the far-away channel markers. Acre for acre it's a good place to see a variety of coastal winter wildlife.

Except maybe last Sunday. it was so cold and windy there was nothing to observe. It was all quiet on the bird front. No ducks, no cormorants and no shorebirds. It seemed odd that Raritan Bay appeared empty except for gulls, mostly Ring-billed with a couple of Greater Black-backs. Nothing special, right? 

Then I remember the advice I received decades ago from a old baymen who used to love bird-watching while catching fish or crabs. He was one of the few baymen I found in Lower New York Bay who enjoyed bird watching, not sure why. His name was Bill, and he always told me never to overlook the gulls that hangout in the bay. I should always keep an eye out for a Black-headed Gull or a Bonaparte's Gull. Bill was a curious birder and took the time to really look and study the birds. He soon found out that our local gull population is pretty diverse.

Sure enough at the waterfront near at the mouth of Morgan Creek, I spotted the grand prize. I saw a few unusual gulls  that were bit smaller compared to the others. Some had pink legs with black bills, while others had orange-red legs with reddish bills. Both birds had pale gray and white plumage with unusual dark black spots of feathers on their head. These were not you typical gulls or seagulls you see around the bay.

Looking up the strange birds in Peterson's field guide, it seemed I spotted some Bonapart's Gulls and the less common Black-headed Gulls. These were beautiful delicate birds with elegant wings and sparkling plumage. Unlike our ordinary gulls around the bay, the Bonapart and Black-headed gulls were shy, timid, and really held back when I tried to approach them for a picture or two. Time and again they would nervously fly off into the air when I came too close.

New Jersey Audubon has identified the Morgan mudflats as a "reliable location" in New Jersey to see Bonaparte's Gulls, Little Gulls, and even Black-headed Gulls. Come winter the birds repeatedly arrive here to the tidewaters of Raritan Bay from their summer breeding territories in northern Canada. Bonaparte' Gulls nest in northern forests near lakes and bogs. Black-headed gulls nest along the coast of Newfoundland in protected bays and shallow estuaries. 

 Although many people  think that a gull is a gull, they're all the same, this isn't true. Each gull is different. Just like people, each gull has their own likes and dislikes, their own personality. Some are shy, some are brassy. Some are loud, some are serene. Some are edgy, others are relaxed.  

There is actually quite a variety of gull species in Lower New York Bay. In my 25 years spent around here, I have seen 10 different gulls including Great black-backed gulls, Lesser black-backed gulls, Laughing gulls, Herring gulls, Bonaparte's gulls, Glaucous gulls, Ring-billed gulls, Iceland gulls, Franklin's gulls, and now Black-headed Gulls.  

When it comes to gulls, most folks will see a large group of birds in a parking lot or near a body of water and simply call them seagulls. There is not, however, one gull in the world with the name, "seagull." This is just an informal and not altogether accurate term used to call any grey or white water bird with web feet, usually with black markings somewhere on the wings or head, and with a typically coarse call. When someone calls a bird a "seagull" the term often reminds me of an old joke. What do you call a bird you see around a bay - a bagel (bay-gull), ha!  

While most people think of all gulls as eating garbage, this isn't really true either. It's not an accurate way to describe all gulls. Sure some gulls such as Ring-bills and Black-backs have been known to steal food out of a trash can or even right out of your hand at the beach, but many other gulls are not so pushy and seldom scavenge from garbage cans or people. 

Bonaparte's Gulls feed mostly on insects, marine worms, small fish, including herring, and crustaceans especially on shrimp. Black-headed Gulls feed on insects, marine worms, earthworms, small fish, mollusks, and crustaceans. Occasionally carrion. They are versatile in feeding, and perhaps this is why they do so well spending the winter near the busy and murky waters of New York City. 

As gulls go, the Bonaparte's and Black-headed gulls are really striking. Hours afterward I left the Morgan Mudflats, I went checking every flock of gulls I saw around the bay, but never saw another. The sight of those two birds in South Amboy made my day a bit warmer in the middle of winter. Hopefully they will always be a part of the urban wildlife of Raritan Bay.

Do Lobsters Live in New York Harbor?

You never know what you might come across while taking a walk along a beach. 

(A crusher claw from an American Lobster recently washed up on a beach new New York Harbor)

Earlier on Sunday I was out walking along the edge of the Atlantic Ocean in Sea Bright, NJ, a little beach town located near the entrance to New York Harbor. I went to see what relics ol' Neptune, the god of the sea, might have heaved onto the beach after the latest winter storm to hit the region. The oddest items always seen to show up soon after a fierce coastal storm. Sunday was no different. 

The high tide washed up[ several small American Lobster claws onto the beach. No bodies, just claws. There must have been over two dozen claws strewn along the tide line. It was a first for me to find so many. In the past, I always found bits and pieces, but never so many whole claws before. 

You might think the claws would be bright red, but they only turn that color after they've been cooked. These claws were more like the  natural color of an American lobster. A blend of brown, green and red, although some lobsters are blue, yellow or even white. The claws also had black speckles and bluish colors in the joints of the appendages.

American Lobsters have two large formidable claws. A heavy crusher claw used to open the shells of snails, clams and crabs, and even other lobsters, as they can be cannibalistic. The other claw is a smaller cutter claw used for eating its food, which can also include seaweed or dead animals, really anything that they can get their claws on. 

(A claw from a Blue Crab on the left and a lobster claw on the right)

Lobster claws can't be confused with any other sea creature found along our coast. Blue-claw crab claws are similar, but they have a brilliant blue color on their front claws; females have red tips. Crab claws are also small and slender compared to hefty lobster claws.

Both the heavy crusher and the small cutter claws were strewn on the beach. There were more crusher claws, though, scattered about, about five to one. Not sure why. The claws were small too, like from a juvenile or small adult. 

  How did these lobster claws get here?

Believe it or not lobsters call the busy waters in or near New York Harbor home. Smaller lobsters can often be found living near the intertidal zone, while larger lobsters live in deeper waters of the bay and ocean.

Who knows how many lobsters exist here. Current populations studies don't exist in New York Harbor to say for sure. Yet, some local scuba divers will tell you that lobsters can be found living near the rocks of offshore lighthouses in the bay, like Old Orchard. While other divers will acknowledge that "huge" lobsters can be seen living near the shipwrecks off the coastline of New York and New Jersey. 

(What a live American Lobster looks like with its claws)

That's not all. A number of recreational fisherman have claimed that lobsters can be caught in crab traps near the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. Commercial fisherman have also told folks on the sly that fishing boats now and then trawl up lobsters in the bay, especially near Gravesend Bay, Brooklyn.

in his book, The Fisheries of Raritan Bay, Clyde MacKenzie, a research fishery biologist at the Sandy Hook NOAA lab, wrote about a once active lobster harvesting business before World War II in Lower New York Bay. Loberstermen from Keyport and Highlands would catch many lobsters beginning in early May. There were about four thousand lobster cages in the bay and they were all often lifted daily when lobsters were abundant. MacKenzie writes, " In some years individual boats got from 100 to 150 pounds a day during peak periods, but in others catches were only 30 pounds a day." Though the market was small compared to Long Island and New England, New York Harbor once had a thriving commercial lobster industry.  

(A recent find on a beach near Keyport, NJ, a dead washed up American Lobster. Photo from the NY-NJ Baykeeper.

Today, lobstering no longer takes place in the harbor. There is, however, an active fishery in the ocean, although it still represents just a small share of New Jersey's seafood industry, and only about 2 percent of the national market. According to the New Jersey Department of Agriculture, there are about 100 state commercial lobster-fishing licenses, but only around half of those are active. Most boats operate out of Belford, Shark River or Point Pleasant.

Unfortunately, the most obvious reason a large amount of people don't know that lobsters live near the Jersey Shore is because the 700,000 pounds of lobsters harvested each year in the ocean are not called "Jersey Fresh lobsters, but are commonly called "Maine lobsters" by local restaurants owners. Most likely because water quality seems to many folks to be better in Maine. It's no wonder that the American Lobster has an identity crisis in New Jersey and New York. Many people think all lobsters come from Maine!

That's just the way it goes for lobsters around here. They live an unseen and secretive life for many people. If not for the occasional washed up claw or other body part discovered along a tide line, would anyone really believe that lobsters do live in or around New York Harbor.

Early morning after Nemo

A huge, slow-moving coastal storm developed into a nor'easter dropping well over two feet of snow in New England, and nearly a foot (11.4 inches to be exact) in Central Park, New York City. When it had ended, I measured about 8 inches of snow from the storm where I live around Sandy Hook Bay, downstream from New York. Another historic northeast storm had clobbered much of the region. 

Early morning after Nemo and I was out clearing the snow away from my driveway. The snow was light and manageable, but a lot to haul away. The air was chilly in the 20s with a stiff north wind gusting up to 30 mph. Yet, the clouds were parting and blue sky was showing.  

Overhead I heard birds calling.  A small flock of Snow Geese were flying by making their way northwest. I had no idea where they had come from or where they were going, but I wondered if they were slowly heading up to the Arctic tundra with minds set on breeding soon. I wondered as moved pile after pile of white stuff around my driveway.