Dungeness crab season
Dungeness crab
Credit: NOAA MBNMS
Today is the opening day of California’s sport fishery for Dungeness crab. The 2013-2014 season runs from November through June. We don’t get much happy environmental news these days and so it’s nice to write about an abundant local animal whose population is healthy and fishery sustainable. Dungeness crab (Metacarcinus magister, formerly Cancer magister) is a favorite of mine, not so much for the eating (which is good), but for observing. This summer thousands (my rough estimate) dotted our beaches. They were a constant companion that fascinated me during long beach walks.
Most of the “dungies” that I encountered on sandy beaches were small — the carapace about an inch (2.5 cm) across. That’s nowhere near the 5.75-inch (14.6 cm) minimum size for the fishery or the full-grown 9-inch (23-cm) adults. These little dungies were juveniles somewhere around 1 to 2 years after hatching. 
Littering the beaches I found mostly live hard-shells and soft-shells, and later in the summer, discarded molts (it’s sometimes hard to tell the difference without handling them – carefully). Little crabs on their backs kicking wildly appeared very much out of their element.
What were all these lively crabs doing on the beach at my feet?
Dungeness crabs hatch from eggs — a mature, berried-up female may carry as many as 2.5 million. Upon hatching, they drift as oceanic plankton for the first year or so, and develop into forms that appear nothing like an adult crab. 
During the first two years they may molt (discard the old and grow a new shell) as much as six times a year. Upon reaching maturity, at about three years, the molts tend to decline to once a year. They can live six to ten years.
Juveniles live in protected, shallow waters of estuaries and sandy beaches with pier pilings and eelgrass beds. They find shelter by burying themselves in the sand. (I discovered that if I scooped out a little trench behind a live crab on a wet beach, it would quickly back into it and disappear. This proved easier, and safer, for me than tossing pinching crabs into the water.)
I think what happens along our beaches is that during the molt season the little crabs in the shallows get picked up by waves and tossed onto the beach or an ebbing tide leaves them high and dry. On the sand they’re vulnerable to hungry crows and gulls, the drying sun and playful children (although the claws even at that size are a great deterrent, speaking from a painful experience). 
How a population can handle this kind of carnage, I don’t know. I can understand if the beach were littered with molts and a few live crabs were among them. The process must be grueling. It was obvious that there were a lot of molting juvenile crabs just off the beach, and synchronizing their molting surely helps individuals among so many to avoid predation. But I saw more struggling crabs on the beach than I did molts (until late summer). Maybe it’s an adolescent test, but it seems like a wasteful strategy. I’m looking forward to next summer (even with the fog). I want to see if this was the usual or an unusual year.
All summer the dungies kept me curious and entertained. I watched them, watched people interacting with them, photographed them, tossed them into the surf and dug many little trenches for them. On each walk I learned something new (like how to tell a Dungeness crab from a graceful crab – but that’s another post). Even though November is the start of Dungeness crab season for many here, as you can see, my favorite crab season is a summer watching dungies.
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Sources
California Department of Fish & Wildlife. Dungeness crab of California and its close relatives.
Encyclopedia of Life: Metacarcinus magister – Dungeness crab
Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch: Dungeness Crab
Morris, R., Abbott, D. & Haderlie, E. (1980). Intertidal Invertebrates of California. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.
Oregon Department of Fish & Wildlife: Life of a Dungeness Crab
Sept, J. D. (2002). The Beachcomber’s Guide to Seashore Life of California. Madeira Park, BC Canada: Harbour Publishing.
SIMoN (Sanctuary Integrated Monitoring Network). Species database: Cancer magister – Dungeness crab
Delights at a regional park
Great blue heron
I love walking the shoreline and taking in what the ocean has to offer each day, but sometimes I find delights elsewhere. Not far from the coast near me is Laguna Grande. It’s a 34.8-acre (14-ha) park with a 12-acre (5-ha) “lake” (most would consider it a pond) established in 1950, and defines part of the Monterey-Seaside boundary. I’m guessing that at one time it was a tidal estuary connecting to Roberts Lake (just across the street) and the ocean about a half mile (.8 km) away, but the building of Highway 1 cut off that flow. It’s now a mostly freshwater laguna.
Pied-billed grebe
The area around Laguna Grande is an unassuming urban neighborhood park that offers a walking trail, playground, picnic areas and summer concerts. It’s also a local birding hotspot. Here are some delightful residents and migrants observed on a foggy day this past week with my Wednesday birding group (thanks!).
American coot
Pied-billed grebes are residents, as are great blue herons and American coots.
Clay-colored sparrow
Clay-colored and Brewer’s sparrows are visiting and may stay for the winter. Look at the collar to help tell them apart.
Brewer’s sparrow
White-crowned sparrow
The white-crowned sparrow is a resident.
Townsend’s warbler
The lovely Townsend’s warbler is a winter visitor and hopefully will stay for a while.
Young red-shouldered hawk
All of us were watched over by a young and handsome (or lovely since you can’t tell the gender) red-shouldered hawk.
There’s evidence that people are more likely to support exotic wildlife and parks across the globe than those nearby. These delights show that we’re all connected (so many migrants all year) and that we should value and protect what’s in our own backyards.
New camera, better shorebirds
Juvenile black-bellied plover
For my blog photos I’ve been using an Olympus Tough. I love the rugged little waterproof camera for kayaking and long beach walks, but for birding, I was wanting something more. I just picked up a new camera — a Canon EOS Rebel T3 with a 70 – 300 mm lens. Here’s the best of a week’s worth of playing along the shore (3 good ones out of 100+).
This lovely black-bellied plover (Pluvialis squatarola) was with a larger group on the rocks at Asilomar State Beach, one of my favorite spots for walking and birding. It’s a new bird species for me! (Thanks to local birding expert Brian Weed for confirming the ID.) Our rocky shores are a migratory stop (the birds travel at night) from Arctic tundra breeding grounds to warmer wintering grounds. Individuals away from the group are usually seeking food. Although black-bellied plovers are protected by the Migratory Bird Act (and other treaties) and populations appear to be healthy, their reliance on Arctic tundra means that they’re vulnerable to climate changes.
Willets
At the base of the rocks hosting the plovers were willets (Catoptrophorus semipalmatus). Willets are mid-sized, mostly nondescript shorebirds, that is until they fly. The wings have a striking black and white pattern. I usually see willets alone, but when they migrate they flock to feeding grounds. And there was a large flock on the rocks. Many of these birds will stay here for the winter (I get more practice photographing them); some will fly as far as South America. In spring, they’ll migrate north and inland to prairie marshes of the Great Plains.
Surfbird
My other successful shot was of a surfbird (Aphriza virgata). These small birds are fairly common here (I see them on nearly every rocky shore walk) even though they’re migratory. If you look closely at the rocks near the water’s edge and wait patiently, you’ll find surfbirds along with the black turnstones they hang out with. The surfbirds’ yellow legs make them easy to distinguish from the black turnstones. There’s some conservation concern about surfbirds (which I didn’t realize till I wrote this). They’re livelihood is closely tied to rocky shores and so oil spills are a serious threat. In addition, human development along our coast impacts their ability to feed and rest undisturbed. We both like the same places.
I’m really enjoying the new camera. It allows me to get close to these visitors without disturbing them and collect some of their essence without taking anything but pictures.
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References
SIMoN Species Database: Black-bellied plover
SIMoN Species Database: Surfbird
SIMoN Species Database: Willet
Monterey Bay Walk #3
Marina State Beach
Yesterday I completed the final 10-mile (16-km) leg of my Monterey Bay trek with Sandy Lydon and company. (Last year I walked this same stretch on my final day with Slow Adventure.) These are home beaches for me since they’re so close to where I live. This morning was clear, bright and mild when we started. I figured the day’s walk would be fairly easy (I say fairly because the sand here is loose and can be tiring), but I was relaxed and ready.
The parking lot above Marina State Beach, where we all met, was very busy. Locals were gathering to pick up trash! Saturday was California’s annual Coastal CleanUp Day and at that hour hundreds of people (mostly young people) were readying to walk Monterey Bay beaches with buckets and trash bags to clean up. On the one hand, it’s very encouraging; on the other, it’s so sad that we have to schedule events to pick up after people who carelessly use our beaches. I carried a small bag on the walk to do what I could, especially at less accessible spots like the beach along Fort Ord Dunes State Park. It was nice not to be a lone trash picker today.
As we walked down to the beach, we were greeted by fairly large waves (6 to 8 feet/1.8 to 2.4 m) — larger than usual for this time of year. And, just beyond were feeding humpback whales, dolphins and seabirds (sorry, no pictures). Exciting sendoff.
Because these beaches aren’t visited by people much, there are often large flocks of gulls (maybe hundreds) of mixed species and ages on the sand. I was able to identify Heermann’s and western gulls. There may have been others. Unfortunately, when we got close, they all took flight, which made identification challenging and getting dumped on highly likely.
Fort Ord Dunes State Park
Our first stop was a climb to the top of the dunes at the north end of Ford Ord Dunes State Park. (Fort Ord was a U.S. Army post established in 1917, decommissioned in the 199os, designated a state park along the coastal side in 2009 and a national monument along the eastern side in 2012.) While we learned tales about the history of the site and the U.S. military’s presence along the Monterey Bay, the building story for me was the weather. 
During the talk, clouds began to build. The wind started picking up, blowing off the tops of waves, all while the tide was reaching its peak. Once we started walking again, we were buffeted by blasts of wind and had to dodge rising wave wash. (There’s no safe exit from this beach until you reach the south end of the park at Sand City — about 3.5 miles or 5.6 km. Last year along here there were several places where the wave wash was hitting the base of the cliffs.) Fortunately, this year there was plenty of beach, but the sand was soft. We trudged along as quickly as we could. The sky seemed to darken with each mile. Experiencing the arrival of this fast-moving storm, it was easy to see how sailors and fishers are caught by surprise and lost at sea. I was glad I wasn’t on a boat.
Monterey State Beach
By the time we reached the Monterey Beach Resort (a hotel on Monterey State Beach where the cities of Seaside and Monterey meet), the clouds were dark gray and threatening rain. We lunched at the picnic tables and heard from UCSC geologist Gary Griggs about the movement of sand, sand mining and erosion along the coast (important because beach and cliff erosion is a serious problem especially along the southern half of the bay). Gary was very knowledgable and provided great information, but it was really hard to stay focused while it rained. We covered up as best we could, listened patiently, then ran from the rain as soon as he finished. We found shelter at the hotel’s entrance and dried out while waiting for the showers to stop.
Del Monte Beach
The storm passed, we regrouped and continued our walk along Monterey State Beach and Del Monte Beach (which are basically the same here). The last mile (1.6 km) of walking was pleasant —
no rain, little wind and lots of sunshine. We used the wooden stairs (only ones on the beach) to cross over the dunes (and across Navy owned property) down to the “rec trail” (Monterey Bay Coastal Recreational Trail). This is an old railway line that’s been converted to a bike & pedestrian path that’s well used.
We ended with sunny skies, big smiles and tired feet. My thanks to Sandy for the history, Annie and friends for the smooth operation, and my companionable fellow walkers for a great time.
Walking the length of Monterey Bay is always an interesting adventure. Try it!
Coming of fall & shorebirds
Whimbrels
I know it’s still summer (Northern Hemisphere) and we’re getting more sunshine during the day (summer fog nearly gone). But we’re also starting to feel just a nip in the air especially in the evening. Autumn is on its way. In anticipation of the change of season, I thought I’d share with you a few of our fall/winter shoreline visitors, such as these whimbrels. I anticipate I’ll see more of these shorebirds in the coming weeks and months. These shots were taken on beach walks from February through July.
Endangered snowy plovers
Snowy plovers are hard to spot and had to be pointed out to me (otherwise I probably would have missed them or maybe stepped on them). Aren’t they hard to see? Blending is great for hiding from predators, but you can see why they’re so vulnerable to beach activities.
Avocet
This singular avocet was a rare treat. I believe they’re more common in Elkhorn Slough than the open coast of Monterey Bay.
Godwit
The marbled godwit is one of the larger shorebirds I see, often among a group of whimbrels. Their two-toned bill is unmistakable.
Sanderlings
I always love watching busy, bustling sanderlings. They’re movement is an illusion — they appear to roll as they run on their two short legs.
Crow acting like a shorebird
I know this last bird is not a shorebird. Yet I see crows whenever I walk the beach and they’re always probing the sand for sand crabs. Given this active feeding behavior, they sure act like shorebirds. They’re also always interesting to watch as they work the beach. And so I’m including them here. I hope you enjoy the change of season wherever you are.
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