Features

HOQUIAM, Wash. — In a rush to get to their arctic breeding grounds, hundreds of thousands of migrating shorebirds are making their annual pit stops along the coast of Washington. 

Every year in late April, Western sandpipers, dunlins, short-billed dowitchers, marbled godwits and about a dozen other shorebird species flock to the salt marshes and mudflats of the Grays Harbor estuary, lured by its rich supply of yummy crustaceans, mollusks and worms. 

It’s one of their favorite spots along the Pacific flyway — one that’s expected to draw several thousand bird enthusiasts to the Grays Harbor Wildlife Refuge and other sites from Long Beach to Cape Flattery during the three-week migration that wraps up in early May. 

“It’s really a spectacle,” said Bob Morse, author of A Birder’s Guide to Coastal Washington. “When you see thousands of shorebirds before you fly off together in one wave, and turn and twist and fly in another direction, all instantaneously, it’s an amazing sight.” 

Seventy to 80 bird watchers braved a steady rain Friday, staking out a spot on the boardwalk at the Grays Harbor Wildlife Refuge as high tide crept in. 

Crai Brower, a science teacher at Seattle’s Pacific Crest School, brought two dozen sixth-, seventh- and eighth-graders in his ornithology class. 

“They do two things here,” Brower told them. “They rest, and they eat. They eat an incredible amount so they can build up enough fat reserves to make to the Cooper River Delta in Alaska,” their last stop before settling down to breed. 

“They’re so cuuuuuuuuuute!” a cluster of girls said, looking out at a scattering of sandpipers dashing across the mudflats, pecking for food. 

Shorebirds begin their 7,000-mile migration in South and Central America, flying hundreds of miles at a time as they head up the Pacific Coast toward their breeding and nesting grounds in the Alaskan and arctic tundra. 

They fly in more tightly packed flocks as they head north than they do during their southern migration back to their wintering grounds. 

“Birds have a limited time in the spring and summer to breed and know they need to be there as soon as the snow is off the ground, so they can go through their courtship” and reproduce, said Morse, a 66-year-old retired computer salesman from Olympia who has written five books on birding. 

“They’re like sardines in a can, they’re so tightly compressed together,” Morse added. 

Normally, shorebirds are fairly drab in color — lots of white and muted browns and grays. But as they get ready to breed, their plumage turns more vibrant, making their white or black bellies stand out more starkly against reddish browns and other rich hues. 

“When they move, they look like flashes,” said Sheila McCartan, who heads up the Grays Harbor Shorebird Festival, which began Friday and runs through Sunday. 

When a few take off, banking in one direction or another, hundreds follow suit within seconds. They fly inches from each other, at times just inches off the water, at times swooping right, then left, up and then back down. 

Victor Vikan, 77, of Tacoma, has been coming to Grays Harbor to see the annual shorebird migration for the past decade. 

“What is most spectacular is on a clear day, when a raptor will swoop in and flush them all out, and like a school of fish, they’ll turn simultaneously,” Vikan said. “The light display is fabulous.” 

Grouping together and dancing out of harm’s way is a survival instinct. 

“The phenomenon is that they know that there’s protection in large numbers,” McCartan said. “As soon as one bird deviates from that — boom! they’re food for predators.” 

On Friday, a peregrine falcon darted in and scared a shoreline full of birds into flight, but didn’t catch any lunch. 

Several species of shorebirds can feed on the same stretch of mudflat. Birds with shorter bills, like the Western sandpiper, nibble on tiny, soft-shelled crustaceans near the surface. Those with longer bills, like the marbled godwit, dig deeper for mollusks and worms. Those with longer legs, like the dowitchers, can feed in deeper water. 

About 80 percent of the birds viewed at the wildlife refuge so far this year have been Western sandpipers, McCartan said. 

At one point Friday, several birders spotted a rare sight: a small group of red knots, named for their rust-colored breasts. 

Although they fly here in huge numbers, shorebird populations are in decline. But because the birds are counted carefully at some points along their flyway and not at all in others, scientists say it’s not yet clear exactly how significant that decline is. 

“We monitor the populations that use the Grays Harbor area, but we always have the question: is a decrease an actual decrease, or are they just spending more time in Oregon?” said Nanette Seto, a U.S. Fish and Wildlife biologist with the Nisqually Wildlife Refuge in Olympia.