Dan's Papers - April 24, 2009

This is the time of year that the piping plovers, small birds on the endangered species list, arrive at the beaches in the Hamptons to set up their little nests for the summer.

Until this year, nobody could ever tell which beaches the plovers would choose for their nests.

It was an important thing for us humans here on the ground to know because whichever beaches the plovers chose would immediately be located by naturalists and encircled by snow fencing to keep everybody away. Whole beaches got closed off this way. Go inside the fence and you would be arrested. Penalties could be a fine or a jail sentence. There is no fooling around when it comes to protecting endangered species.

When all this began, back in the mid 1990s, everybody thought it was cute. The plovers really were few and far between then. There would be one or two places fenced off somewhere along our 60 miles of beach. The fences did encircle the nests, but you could walk or drive around them, and even see the cute little fellas from a distance of 50 or 100 feet.

Now, however, we have an infestation of plovers. There are hundreds of nests, and as many as 1,000 little monsters and their brats. One out of every 10 beaches is off limits here in the summertime now. For the last three years, the Fourth of July fireworks at Main Beach in East Hampton have had to be postponed because of piping plovers. Sometimes beach weddings have to be relocated. And in some areas, where the plover nests go from the back of the dunes all the way down to near the water, the fencing now runs from the back of the beach all the way down to the water's edge, essentially blocking everybody. And yet, the law remains. Those deciding about the plover rules work out of an air conditioned office building in Washington, D. C. They wouldn't know a plover if they saw one.

They probably don't even know that by the time they allow the people to use these beaches again - after the plovers have flown away - the summer is over.

This year, however, things are different. Back in March, the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service designated only two specific beaches for the plovers. They are off limits for humans from April to August. One is on the beach at Peconic Bay, at Jessup Neck and the adjacent Elizabeth J. Morton Preserve in Noyac, and the other is a one half mile section of beach along the ocean halfway between Two Mile Hollow Beach in East Hampton and Indian Wells Beach in Amagansett.

Because of this change, some spirited citizens have formed a group called the "Plover Guidance Rangers."

Based out of a so far unrented private mansion on a beach in Mecox, which twice in the last four years has had its beachfront be home to plovers, the leaders of this group are turning the plover preservation rule upside down and sideways.

"We now have two beaches preserved exclusively for plovers," said co-founder Ed Nelson, of Water Mill. "Our goal is to guide all the plovers, which are now on their migration north, to the beaches set aside for them."

He looked at me sternly. "This is a good thing to do. It's where the law wants them."

According to Norton, there are now nearly 4,000 members of the Plover Guidance Rangers. Upon registration, which can be done at the PGR Web site, members are issued red caps and vests.

"The annual membership fee, which is $150, includes the hat and vest. We haven't had an objection yet. Plovers hate anything red. They relate it to their species predator, the red fox, of which there are very few here in the Hamptons, unfortunately."

Nelson is not advocating that there be more. But he is advocating that his Rangers be ready for what he says is "game day," the day coming sometime in the next few weeks when all the plovers arrive up above the Hamptons and start looking down for the beaches where they intend to make their nests.

He showed me banks of computers with volunteers sitting at them, watching for signs of the plover arrival in the Plover Guidance Ranger headquarters' living room. There were other Rangers with binoculars on an exterior deck looking out over the dunes. It wasn't hard to figure out what this was all about.

On the back wall of the living room was a big banner reading THEY'VE GOT THEIRS. WE'VE GOT OURS. I asked him about that.

"It's a bit complicated. I'll get to that later. But for now, let me show you something." He walked me over to one of the computers being used by a man introduced to me as Hal.

"Based on where the plovers are now in their migration," he said, indicating blips on the computer, "we expect 'game day' to be either April 26, 27 or 28 this year."

On 'game day,' he said, all the captains of Plover Guidance Rangers will alert all the other Rangers by e-mail and order everyone to don hats and vests, get pots and wooden spoons from their kitchens and, for the next 12 hours, stand out on the beaches banging the pots and directing the arriving plovers to Noyac and Amagansett.

Nelson looked at his watch, and then glanced at the screen.

"Right now, we think the call will go out the day after tomorrow," he said.

This reporter asked Nelson how he expected piping plovers, which are up in the sky several hundred feet, to be able to see where they are being herded.

"We're getting signage - giant black cardboard arrows and you know those neon signs that the police have alongside some of the roads that tell you your speed?"

"We're working on getting all the police departments to allow us to take them out to the beaches on 'game day,' where we can reprogram them with the best information."

"8.3 MILES TO AMAGANSETT BEACH, THAT WAY," he said.

I asked him if he thought the towns and villages would approve of their actions on 'game day.'

"We won't be doing anything illegal," he said. "I've talked to a few officials about this informally. There's no law against everybody going down to the beaches, except that we need some gathering permits, and we've already gotten them, although we have not filled in the dates yet. I mean, everybody has been very nice. Everybody wants to save the plovers and get them over to their beaches. And everybody wants all the rest of us, summer people and locals, surfers and sport fishermen and volleyball players and sunbathers, to be able to use all the other beaches. They have theirs. We have ours."

He pointed to the sign on the wall and smiled.

"I've already spoken at several Chamber of Commerce meetings. They're all on board," he said.

"Anything else you want to tell our readers?" I asked.

"Just go to our Web site and sign up. And watch the skies. Save the piping plovers! And oh, one other thing: If you don't want to join the Rangers, join the Rangers Auxiliary. We're here 24/7. We could use pizza and Coke and maybe a cheesecake. We need all the help we can get."