Catch Me If You Can – The American Oystercatcher

Originally published on Audubon Guides on October 1st, 2012

Catching an oyster only seems difficult to me if you’re tossing one around with your kid in your backyard. For a predator the difficulty is not chasing one down but prying one apart once they’ve located it. The two sides of the bivalve’s shell are bound together by an adductor that protects them from prying intruders. Hopefully.

Considering the difficulty of which it is to open an oyster for a human, the American Oystercatcher (Haematopus palliates) is a devastating effective predator of mollusks of all sorts. Juvenile oystercatchers are taught certain techniques by their parents that make a quick meal of mollusks. They are aided by a stout, powerful bill with triangular shaped mandibles in cross section that are reinforced in such a way that they will not bend easily when attacking prey.

American Oystercatcher © Pete Corradino

One method taught, known as “stabbing”, is to sneak up on the oyster while the shell is open even the slightest, stab at the adductor and break the shell open, exposing the meal inside. The second method, “hammering”, is to pry the oyster from the oyster bed or other place of attachment and then use the bill to shatter a hole in the shell. They can then break the adductor and eat their meal.

American Oystercatcher © Pete Corradino

In addition to oysters they feed on a variety of shellfish, crabs and tube worms. Crabs are flipped on their back and stabbed to death with the bill. To locate tube worms, sensitive nerve endings in the bill allow them to sense prey as they probe the tidal flats.

A Willet attempts to drive off an Oystercatcher © Pete Corradino

Occasionally confused with the Black Skimmer (Rynchops niger), the oystercatcher’s mandibles are equal in length compared to the skimmer’s disproportionate upper and lower mandibles. The oystercatcher has a black head, white belly, and sturdy pink legs.

As willets and sandpipers scooted along the surf, the oystercatcher above methodically probed the sand for lunch, ignoring the beachgoers. When you’re a stabber or a hammerer who’s going to mess with you?

Willet stay? Willet go?

Willets are seemingly inconspicuous shorebirds that are easily ignored by the general beach going populace. Chances are if you’ve seen a wedding photo on the beach there is probably a Willet skirting the shoreline behind the bride and groom.

Willets (Tringa semipalmata) are often the bird that some kid on the beach is throwing shells at because the bird ignored the bread thrown at it. (Don’t do it kids, especially if my sister is around. She will throw shells back at you.) Willets have more class than to beg like gulls. Come on kids. They eat tube worms, aquatic insects, mollusks and fish.

To most people a Willet is just a drab-colored shorebird, but when it takes flight it has a striking and very obvious white and black color pattern on the underwing that makes identifying and enjoying a bit easier. The pattern isn’t just for our benefit, a flash of wing helps Willets indentify each other from other shorebird species. The preening Willet in the photo is showing a bit of the black and white in the lower right block.

Willets are monogamous during the breeding season. They split time between the Atlantic coast of South America and the east and west coasts of North America. While they grace our beaches, the males and females tend to nest in the vegetation near the shore. The nest is a well-hidden/conspicuous nest which is to say the nest itself is hidden among the reeds and grasses while a tunnel to the nest is more obvious.

The onomatopoetic name Willet is just one of the various calls the bird makes. It sounds very much like the soothing white-noise “ocean” sounds on my baby’s mobile. Will Will Willet. Will Will Willet.

Males help incubate the eggs and feed the young. Despite their mate fidelity, the females take off two weeks before the chicks fledge, leaving the last of the rearing to the male. I don’t know why this is, but with my own 6 month old at home, the thought of it makes me nervous.

My Left Foot - Beach Edition

If you did not have the full function of your arms or legs how would you manage? You might have the opportunity to regain certain abilities. You might remain in that condition for the duration of your life. I've thought about it and my mobility is something I don't take for granted. Nor do I dismiss the great achievements of those that have overcome a perceived disability.

Birds will tuck a leg up under their fluffed plumes to conserve energy while at rest. I've overheard many bird watchers point out a one-legged bird, only to be surprised when the second leg miraculously appeared. Sunday night we walked on Fort Myers Beach and watched a Willet dart back and forth with the inhalation and exhalation of sea foam. Clearly this one has both legs.

Further down the beach we spotted another Willet behaving rather strangely.

It had only one leg. The other leg could have been bitten off. Maybe it was tangled in monofilament fishing line, restricting blood flow and causing it to fall off. Maybe it was born without it. It did have a small stump which was noticeable as it hopped around.

The bird did not feel sorry for itself. It asked for no favors. It simply hopped about in the surf in a very un-Willet like gait, feeding on invertebrates and such. We watched it feed for several minutes, impressed by its determination, balance and grace. It occurs to me that you can do anything when you must. Survival is harsh and beautiful all at once.