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NEW BEDFORD — Barely visible from the shores of East Beach, three gray-and-white, puffy shorebirds — no more than six inches across — skitter across the sand. The male advances towards two females, beak forward and wings outstretched. They tussle briefly, then scatter like water on a hot pan.
Fifty feet away, New Bedford conservation agent Chancery “Chance” Perks watches with a look of paternal approval.
“Look at them — so cute,” Perks says. “Beating the hell out of each other.”
Hours earlier this Monday, Perks and field technician Harrison Letourneau erected the fence where the shorebirds now play, the first step in welcoming the threatened piping plover species to their New England summer homes. Perks likes to get the fence ready early for this very reason — you never know when the chicks may come home to roost.
“It’s amazing,” Perks said after seeing the plovers fly in. “This is why we do what we do.”
Piping plovers travel thousands of miles to New England each spring to nest, often returning from the Gulf of Mexico to the same spit of sand where they nested before. Although piping plovers are typically monogamous, this year three shorebirds appear to have returned to reprise a tumultuous “love triangle” that ignited last summer.
“In the science community, we can’t say for sure that these are the same birds from last year,” Perks said. “But they’re probably, most likely the same birds.”
Due to plovers’ protected status, state law requires that beginning April 1, communities with nesting shorebirds must set up a fence around their prospective habitat for their entire breeding season, which can go to August. In that time, Perks and Letourneau monitor the plovers’ well-being, keeping them safe from curious dogs and their sometimes-ornery owners: beachgoers.
Last spring, New Bedford’s East Beach hosted five nesting plovers. Two formed a monogamous couple. But Perks observed a male court two different females, then father both clutches of eggs. On Monday, a male did the same — courting two females with squawks, side-steps, and pecks.
Sadly, none of last year’s chicks survived, Perks said. They were likely eaten by seagulls.
This year, Perks hopes the love-torn throuple may have better luck. From the other side of the fence, he watches the three plovers continue their courtship dance, darting back and forth across the ripples of sand.
“It’s almost like we’re starting another season of ‘Days of Our Lives’ here,” Perks said.
Three’s company
Love triangles among piping plovers are “very unusual,” state coastal waterbird biologist Carolyn Mostello said.
For one, plovers typically choose a mate based on their previous reproductive success. Partners that reared healthy chicks often reunite the next season, while pairs that did not succeed most likely “divorce” and recouple.
When love triangles do occur, the male will typically protect only one nest and leave one female out on her own, Mostello said. (In human terms, this is often called the “side chick.”) It’s particularly rare that last season’s Lothario appeared to stick around and care for both nests.
“It could just be that at that site, there aren’t enough males to go around, and the male is able to capitalize on that by having two nests,” Mostello said.
Mostello wasn’t sure why an extra female wouldn’t fly somewhere else, where she might find her own partner.
“Maybe it’s a younger female,” she guessed.
Regardless of how it happened, Mostello worried that the unorthodox living arrangement could have harmed both females’ reproductive success.
Once hatched, plover chicks are very active and difficult to protect, Mostello explained, constantly dodging predators. (Perks likened them to little “cotton balls” with a penchant for running towards the open ocean.) Though Mostello said it was nice that the male plover looked after both nests, it’s much easier for four parents to keep track of their chicks.
“It could be a detriment if one of the parents was spreading himself too thin and trying to protect too many chicks at once,” Mostello said.
Because plovers rarely recouple after an unsuccessful season, Mostello cautioned that the three little shorebirds seen on East Beach may not be the same trio from last summer. Some lovebirds do learn from their mistakes, after all.
“It could be that New Bedford is a newer site and there aren’t a huge number of sites nearby, so they haven’t really branched out,” Mostello said. “But we can’t know for sure that these are the same birds.”
Is this behavior typical of New Bedford males?
“I sure hope not,” Perks said.
Tastes like chicken
Lifestyle choices aside, few species make beachgoers angrier than the piping plover.
Since the 1990s, Massachusetts has required conservationists to fence off plover habitat and keep beachgoers at least 100 feet from their vulnerable nests. These mandates often mean that whole swaths of the beach become inaccessible during the summer, when New Englanders most want to get outside.
In 1992, Martha’s Vineyard biologist Luanne Johnson was hired to oversee piping plover monitoring for the first summer of beach closures.
“‘Piping plover tastes like chicken’ was a popular bumper sticker around that time,” Johnson told the Vineyard Gazette in a 2024 interview.
When Jamie Bogart, an environmental scientist with the Lloyd Center, first discovered piping plovers nesting on New Bedford’s shores six years ago, Perks said he told then-conservation agent Sarah Porter, “Good luck.”
And yet, Perks said he hasn’t dealt with any major plover incidents — a rare feat even for less populated communities. Ninety-nine percent of beachgoers understand and respect the shorebirds, Perks said, and even the one percent can be reasoned with.
“When people are like, ‘Why are you taking up the beach for the birds?’ I try to explain it to them, like, ‘What kind of person are you?’” Perks said. “That’s a mother with babies right there.”
On any given day between April 1 to about mid-July, Letourneau, the city’s field technician, can be found watching the shorebirds and making sure no human or animal gets in their space. Dogs are not allowed on the beach during shorebird season and must remain leashed on the surrounding sidewalks.
Above all, the goal is to limit the plovers’ stress throughout their stay, Perks said, since the more comfortable the birds feel, the sooner they’ll breed and be on their way. He hopes to get the shorebirds out before July 4, when the city and the entire country will head down to the beach to celebrate the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence.
But on a blustery day in March, few residents are here to share in the delight Perks and Letourneau feel seeing their plovers return.
“It’s a microcosm of our impact on this planet,” Perks said. “We’re just going to give up this space for a while to those who really need it, and just remember that we’re sharing.”
Email Brooke Kushwaha at bkushwaha@newbedfordlight.org.
More stories by Brooke Kushwaha
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While I enjoy watching the piping plovers, I wish the city would have the same concern for closing all the outfall pipes around our peninsula that let raw sewerage flow into our waters and contaminate our beaches and every time we have a major rain event.