Field Notes: The Least Tern

The River has crested from its unusual July rise and as it recedes exposes beautiful sandbars and islands. Today, we have a crew of four, a mother-daughter from Ohio, Wolfie and myself. The mother is a strong, stern restaurant manager and the daughter, a laid back college student looking to decide what area of study to pursue.

We approach the main channel and the women are floored
by the size of the River.

 

“What’s that bird we keep seeing?”

I respond,

“That’s the Least Tern.”

 

The Least Tern is an extraordinary water bird that spends summers in the Mississippi River Valley using its immaculate sandbars and islands to conceive and rear their young.  Spending the winter months in northern South America, Central America and various islands in the Caribbean Sea, they then make an epic journey of faith north to the beautiful sandbars and islands of the Lower Mississippi River with shallow pools with large schools of small fish. The male has to win a mate by showing his fishing and protection skills. The female lays two to four eggs directly on the sand perfectly camouflaged, but one is not uncommon.  She stays close to the eggs and keeps them cool by dipping her chest into the water and returning to the nest. It’s a difficult task starting a family on a sandbar on the Mississippi River. They’re eggs are often stolen by Mississippi Kites as well ground dwelling scavengers.”

The ladies join me in the hunt for eggs. I encourage them to be careful were they step because the eggs blend in with the sand. It doesn’t take long to find a nest and the ladies snap pictures as they celebrate the findings. One of my favorite things about being a steward of the Mississippi River is co-existing with wildlife in their habitat!

The ladies decide on an early lunch since they used a lot of energy the night before dancing with shuttle driver Ellis Johnson at Red’s Juke Joint.

The daughter says,” I’m thinking about majoring in wildlife biology.”

I replied,” Where do you go to school?”

She answered, “Ball State University.”

I smile, “My brother William graduated from there. Isn’t that a journalism school?”

Not eagerly willing to have this discussion around her mother, she changes the subject.

“I read that piece you wrote about your father. Sounds like you had a great childhood.”

I am surprised, not used to people knowing me through my writing. But we go into a conversation about our fathers, finish our lunch of organic fruit, vegetables, cheese and salmon from local markets and head downstream towards one of my favorite places to camp, Island 64.

Male least terns are hovering and diving for fish all around us and the ladies are trying to catch the images on film. We arrive at Island 64 and the ladies take off exploring. Deer, coyote, bobcats, turtle, and raccoon tracts cover the landscape.

That night we enjoyed our meal of smoked brisket, pasta and salad as we admired the beautiful colors that coincide with the developing storm on the horizon. We make sure everyone is tied down and go to our tents to wait out the storm.

We rise with sun and admire the storm-washed beaches. As we leave island 64 headed for Hurricane Point, we dip into Mellwood Lake as needlenose gar feed on the fry being push out into the receding river. The ladies couldn’t believe the number and size of the fish they saw. As always, you can see the disappointment in their eyes wishing for one more day on the River.

We decide to have lunch on Island 67 which is a high bluff of sand and trees almost sitting in the middle of the channel.  As we approach the island, least terns in the hundreds hover over the sandbars.  I let the ladies know the importance of not disturbing the birds, but they promised to be careful. I keep my eyes to the ground not to disturb any eggs, see a piece of driftwood and it looked as if the sand moved.

It’s a baby least tern freshly hatched camouflaged against the driftwood.

My heart explodes as I call the crew over for a look. We take quick pictures and move on not wanting to disturb nature as it took its course.

I felt good knowing the ladies had quality time and experienced something rarely seen in nature. We meet our shuttle and celebrate the completion of another journey. I look at the daughter, “Did you figure it out?”  Knowing what I’m talking about, she replied, “Yes!”  The mother smiles and I think, “The River did it again!”

 

– Mark River

Mark River Peoples is a guide and teacher with Quapaw Canoe Company and is also the 1 Mississippi Southern Region Intern representing the Lower Mississippi River Foundation.  Please go to www.bigmuddyisland.org for more photos, maps, videos, and other depictions of the Big River!