The Fight You May Not Notice

MONMOUTH COUNTY’S beaches awaken under the late March sun, and a quiet drama unfolds along the dunes. Tiny piping plovers—sand-colored shorebirds no bigger than a child’s fist—scurry across the sand, scraping shallow nests just above the tide line. Nearby, the bold American oystercatcher, with its black-and-white plumage and vivid orange beak, probes the shoreline for clams. Amid their dance, the reddish stems of sea beach amaranth unfurl, anchoring the shifting dunes. These three species—two birds and a plant—share a fragile coastal habitat and a dependence on the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection (NJDEP) to shield them from a world that often overlooks their presence.

The piping plover, endangered in New Jersey and threatened federally along the Atlantic Coast, teeters on a razor’s edge—only about 1,400 breeding pairs remain from Canada to North Carolina, with New Jersey hosting around 100 pairs annually, many in Monmouth County. These birds face storms that swamp their nests, predators like foxes, coyotes, hawks, owls, gulls and cats; then the early summer rush of beachgoers who might crush their camouflaged eggs.

You might mistake them for the common sanderling, another small shorebird darting along the waves, but the differences are telling. Piping plovers, with their pale backs, black-tipped beaks and distinctive neck band (faint in winter, bold in breeding season), are homebodies during summer, nesting in one spot. Sanderlings, darker and streakier, lack the neck band and are restless migrants, chasing waves in flocks rather than settling down. Spot a lone bird digging a nest? It’s likely a plover, not a sanderling.

The louder American oystercatcher, a species of special concern in New Jersey with 350 to 400 breeding pairs, shares the plover’s vulnerability. Its nests—sandy hollows or marsh edges—are equally exposed to disturbance. Then there’s the sea beach amaranth, federally threatened and state-endangered, thriving in the same dune zones. Its population spiked to over 7,000 plants statewide in 2021, but it still battles beach stabilization and trampling. Together, they form a delicate coastal trio, their fates intertwined.

A HELPING HAND

In Monmouth County, from Sea Bright to Manasquan, the NJDEP’s Division of Fish and Wildlife steps in each year to give the birds a helping hand. As nesting season kicks off in late March, crews armed with string, posts and signs cordon off beach stretches with symbolic fencing—light twine marking nesting zones and amaranth patches. In Sea Girt, where we have healthy dunes and natural areas like Wreck Pond and the National Guard Training Center (NGTC), these barriers can span hundreds of yards, urging beachgoers to stay out, give space.

It’s another good reason to leash that dog on the beach once the frost is gone and to keep your kids off the dunes. Beach patrol vehicles are rerouted, surf rakes and beach grooming stop near the ropes. It’s tough balancing human recreation with nature’s nursery.

And the birds are not winning the battle. The plover pairs have dwindled from 144 twenty years ago to just 86 last year, with about half in Monmouth County. Sea Girt has had just one or two nests each of the last few seasons, and the last successful pair lost the mom to a fox defending her nest, and dad could not adequately protect the surviving chicks alone.

The effort to give the birds a shot is hands-on. Biologists and interns, often with Monmouth University, monitor nests daily, counting eggs and chicks. For plovers, success hinges on fledglings—those that survive to fly. Piping plover adults and chicks feed on sand worms, fly larvae, beetles and crustaceans in the surf zone. Females lay four eggs that hatch in about 25 days, and surviving chicks learn to fly (fledge) after about 25 to 35 days.

The Oystercatchers take slightly longer to reach independence; their chicks tracked as they toddle to the tide. Their numbers ebb and flow but are more stable than the plovers. The amaranth benefits too: Fenced zones cut foot traffic, letting its seeds root. In turn, the plant bolsters dunes, offering birds better cover, which is a nice ecological synergy. The protections also help other rare species like the snowy plover, the killdeer and several sandpiper species. Last fall, the NGTC instituted a program to remove non-native plantings and to modify their dunes to help promote shorebird nesting.

The ropes sometimes irk local towns and tourists who may not appreciate the need to protect the birds. But the DEP has the authority to close access to entire beaches. They are backed by the Endangered Species Act and Migratory Bird Treaty Act. The total American bird population is down over 30% since the 1970s, with almost 3 billion birds lost in 50 years, mostly due to habitat loss of grassland and forests. The shorebird population faces even greater pressure, as there is little real estate to leave them alone.

Biologists continue to try new techniques. One promising test is colored flags planted along the ground near nest enclosures, which make enough noise and visual distraction to chase many predators away. Use caution at the beach in May and June, when the drama peaks. Vulnerable chicks attract hungry predators, and their first days walking to the shoreline are the most tense. You don’t need to add to the survival pressure, so get binoculars and enjoy from a distance or volunteer to help.

BY VINCENT DICKS

PHOTOGRAPH BY MICHAEL CASSELLA