This endangered little bird is ready for its close-up
“There it is! See?”
I try to hold my binoculars steady, but the gusty wind, and my very cold hands, make it tough. It doesn’t help that I am trying to spot a small, mostly gray bird on a big, mostly gray shoreline. But aha, there it is!
The object of my search is the very rare Magellanic plover. It’s a majestic name for a little shorebird, which, when I catch sight of it, is furiously paddling its Barbie-pink feet in the muddy shallows, stirring up bugs to eat.
I wouldn’t have spotted it without help from the sharp-eyed Sebastián Saiter, a naturalist who works with Seacology’s project partner in southern Chile, Agrupación Ecológica Patagónica (Patagonia Ecological Group). He and Yohanna Fierro have brought me and Seacology’s Chile field rep, Claudio Delgado, to a windswept lakeshore on the island of Tierra del Fuego. It’s at the southern tip of South America, not far from the city known as “The End of the World.”
Sebastián explains that the plover lives only in this region, a stone’s throw from Antarctica. For years, people estimated the population of plovers at several thousand. But recent surveys turned up a much more alarming number. There are only about 300 of these birds in the world, making it one of the world’s rarest shorebirds. Its small numbers and limited range make it vulnerable to extinction.
Magellanic plovers are among the world's rarest shorebirds.
Claudio and I scan the horizon looking for elusive birds.
Sebastián speculates that the bird has received little scientific attention in part because its range is so small and remote. Unlike some better-known birds that make spectacular migrations to North America or Europe, the Magellanic plover stays close to home year-round. It lays its eggs on bare rocks on the Patagonian steppe, and then migrates to the nearby Atlantic coast.
This is exactly the kind of situation Seacology was made to address: a species that is threatened because its population is isolated and small. Our project on Tierra del Fuego protects these endangered birds in several ways. Our partner has put up interpretive signs along the waterfront in the town of Porvenir and at two lagoons where these birds (and many other species) live. They also built a fence at one lake to keep people from driving on the rocky beach, where the birds lay their eggs. At local schools, Sebastián and Yohanna take kids on field trip and do classroom activities.
One of the things I love about how Seacology works is the synergy between our field reps and project partners. As we scan for plovers on the windy beach, Claudio, a wildlife biologist, is soon in earnest conversation with Sebastián about publishing a paper on the birds, and coming up with a 10-year management plan to ensure their survival. Maybe an annual bird festival, to spread the word about this overlooked species and generate local pride?
Meanwhile, I am congratulating myself on my luck. Sebastián, who takes tourists to see the fantastic lineup of Patagonian wildlife—in addition to plovers, there are pumas, flamingos, penguins, guanacos, and much more—tells me that one determined birder made the very long trek from the UK to Patagonia four times, all in hopes of seeing a Magellanic plover. All I had to do was put on every warm item of clothing I had brought and follow my amazing guides.
Mary Randolph is Seacology’s program manager.