I spent last week trapping shorebirds on Monomoy National Wildlife Refuge on the elbow of Cape Cod. Stephanie Koch, Kate Iaquinto, and Matt Boarman. USFWS biologists, led our team into the unimaginable wilderness that lies in the heart of one of the most touristy places on the east coast.
Getting to the refuge, one must travel through the lovely town of Chatham, a fully restored and vibrant town filled with trendy stores and artistic venues including at least three playhouses. The town stretches to coastal bluffs that extend north and south along a sound and overlooks a series of mostly uninhabited barrier islands. These islands, owned by local municipalities, are not without people — ferries carry day trippers and their families, recreational boaters beach their boats along the inland shore, motorized hang gliders fly low along the dunes and beaches. The town has created a workable balance of recreational opportunities with solidly valuable wildlife habitats including shorebirds.
Traveling further south, you eventually get to the refuge. Tucked discreetly between the ostentatious houses of the rich, the refuge headquarters provides public access to the mainland shoreline. It also allows a concessionaire space to offer rides over to the South Beach Island, an uninhabited island under the jurisdiction of the town. South of South Beach (confusing but it gets worse) are the islands of the refuge, North and South Monomoy , Minimoy and many other smaller islands.
Looking out from the mainland, it’s hard to imagine what you see before you — a wilderness in the middle of the recreational madness of mid-August on Cape Cod. But after two years of work in the area, I can testify that the Fish and Wildlife Service has successfully defended this intact example of a barrier island ecosystem that has been largely lost from the mid-Atlantic Coast. Sprawling miles to the south are islands that look permanent but are as ephemeral as sand on an ocean beach. The ocean rules in this place, you hear it everywhere you go, the low rumble of ocean waves crashing on beach that know few people. The proof of its wildness is the birds.
Which is why I was there. Monomoy refuge is one of only two places on the northeast coast that are regular stops for Arctic-nesting shorebirds including the red knot. Brian Harrington, the man that literally wrote the book on red knots, studies the red knots of the area and has developed an interesting understanding. He has teased this migrating group apart into two groups — one composed of long distant migrants heading for South America, and a second heading for closer wintering sites in the southeast US. All are rufa red knots, but even on this stopover they separate into two distinct groups feeding on two different prey items in two different areas of the refuge.
feather molt
How can we know these two groups? First, by re-sighting banded birds. The inscribed leg flags of each group show that the two groups winter in two different areas. Just as conclusive are the molt patterns on the wings of red knots. The long-distance knots molt their flight feathers after they arrive at their South American wintering area. The short-distance knots molt their flight feathers during their stay at Monomoy. The first group is as fat as birds leaving the Delaware Bay in late May, some over 195 g. The second group weigh in at a subsistence 135 g, a consequence of the demands of their wing molt and probably because they do not need to fatten for a long-distance flight. Wing molt and weight are determined from the birds we captured this week on the refuge.
Author holding a short distance knot on the left at about 134 g and a long distance knot on the right at about 196 g
Thank God for Monomoy. The birds are there because there are few areas of suitable habitat that are not dominated by beach-hungry people. At Monomoy Refuge the birds can take their time to get ready for the demanding season before them.
