“I think Jesse & Jim should name them,” Emily barked. It was an order clothed as a suggestion.
She pitched it to us like an honor, but it was a setup. The truth was, no one wanted to be responsible for naming these two birds. These were the first oystercatchers banded at Barnegat Light in years and, in a sense, would be replacing the Lighthouse’s (and New Jersey’s) most loved bird of all time, the legendary oystercatcher “T2”. Who could top a name as charming and whimsical as T2? Who would want to try, given how tightly entwined T2’s name is with the history of beach-nesting birds at the Lighthouse? These distinctive and flamboyant birds delight even the hardest of hearts walking the inlet. They are a prominent symbol of the wild splendor of Barnegat Light State Park.
“Hurry up, you two, I need those names. I’m putting them in NestStory now, and we need to get out of here,” scolded Emily.
Jesse and I were utterly unprepared for this task, so we panicked and shamefully punted.
“Jesse James,” we fumbled. One named “Jesse” after him, and one named “James” after me. Terrible, I know. And under the blazing sun, after a long banding session, it was made even worse when Emily either misunderstood or misheard or was trying to make it less bad somehow, so she wound up naming one of the pair (J/22) “Jesse Jamez” and leaving the other (J/23) without any name at all.
Despite the initial naming mishap, the birds’ unique personalities and the Park’s bond with them soon shone through. The band codes “J22” and “J23” quickly became endearing and familiar, much like this inseparable, monogamous pair of oystercatchers the bands adorned. The similar codes matched this pair perfectly, like his-and-her tracksuits on a long-married couple. They didn’t need any other names, just as T2 hadn’t. This connection made their special place in the Park even more heartwarming and compelling.
So now we just call them “The Jays,” “The J Twos,” or, my favorite, “J2/3.”
And over the years, J2/3 has indeed become Barnegat Light’s beloved fixture, which they were always meant to be.
So it was especially heartbreaking when another admired and beloved character in the Lighthouse’s history, beach-nesting monitor and photographer Teri Bowers, took this photo late last summer:
While seeing any bird, even the most unremarkable gull, entangled in human trash is always distressing, it was particularly heart-wrenching to see J22 in such a state. Our deep emotional connection to J2/3 and their life at Plover Park made their suffering all the more painful. The twine was a stark reminder of the threats these birds face from human activities, underscoring the continued and urgent need for conservation and preservation efforts.
When they saw this photo, Emily and Kashi immediately sprang into action. They devised an unlikely plan to trap J22 and remove the twine. Despite the late season and the birds’ disinterest in nesting, they remained determined and hopeful.
Alf, Bri, and Emily from NJFW dispatched and deployed a giant “woosh” net on the beach. This massive net, carefully designed to be both effective and safe for the birds, is attached to spring-loaded PVC and can be remotely triggered. It is both fast and gentle and covers an enormous area. The target zone was loaded with everything and anything that might work to attract J2/3: a nest of fake eggs, a few oystercatcher decoys, and a small speaker blasting oystercatcher calls.
The crew’s meticulous planning and attention to detail were evident in every aspect of the operation. The setup was elaborate, expensive, time-consuming, and exhausting. But it was still worth a try. Over the next few hours, it drew the J2/3’s attention, and they cautiously circled the far perimeter. J23 was the most curious and came close to the trap zone several times. But it was J22 who was entangled with twine. Unfortunately, J22 stayed safely off in the distance, watching everything from the pond’s edge, bound leg lifted and dangling.
When it was finally time to give up, the fake eggs were left along with a live camera to watch them. A storm was coming, so it would be several days before another attempt could be made. During the next few rainy days, I would run to Michaels for paints and wooden eggs to make more decoys to spread around the Park the moment the storm passed. But the rain kept pouring. Plover Park was soon flooded so severely that even the fake eggs and the camera were destroyed.
In the storm’s wake, there were new tragedies and urgencies. Schedules became overwhelming. And soon, summer was slipping away too quickly, as it tends to do. Before another trapping attempt could be made, J2/3 were gone.
The only consolation we were left with was that J22 had managed to survive the summer. If J22 could somehow make it through the winter and return to lay eggs in the Park, there might be another shot at removing the twine. I thought of this during the winter each time I saw the pile of painted eggs I’d made for them gathering dust in the garage. Yet J22’s survival with that hideous twine dangling felt so improbable; the thought was the opposite of comforting.
But miracles do happen. When J22 was first seen back at the Lighthouse this spring, there was no time for amazement or tears of joy. Emily and Kashi immediately began planning. J22’s foot was still bound with twine, but it looked mostly healthy despite a slight limp. Most importantly, J22 was healthy enough to produce a clutch of three beautiful miracle eggs, setting the stage for another shot at trapping.
Ultimately, trapping at the nest didn’t work despite waiting all winter long for the chance. J2/3 were either too cautious or too wise. Eventually, the effort had to be abandoned so J2/3 could return to caring for the eggs.
The pair continues to thrive despite the ever-present threat of the twine entangled around J22’s foot. And just this weekend, their nest hatched three beautiful baby oystercatchers. Watching J22, with that hideous twine dragging behind, march the young chicks through the dune looking for food is still unsettling. But they’ve defied the odds this far, so we’ll keep hoping and supporting their survival.
The J2/3’s resilience and Kashi & Emily’s unwavering commitment are remarkable testaments to the power of hope and dedication in the face of adversity. Their endless commitment and resourcefulness are not just admirable; they are spectacularly inspiring. Their efforts give us hope for the future of not just these birds, but of everything. If there is any opportunity to try trapping again, we now know they will not hesitate.
I’m thankful every day for how entwined their loving hearts are with these animals and with their job of protecting our treasured beach-nesters.
And I’m sorry, J22. I’m sorry for your predicament, I’m sorry you need to be trapped, I’m sorry it hasn’t been successful, and I’m sorry for ever naming you “Jesse Jamez”.
You’re J22. And you’re loved.
