Tag: Martha

Ethel, in the nest, and Mark-8 perched above, don’t seem to be really into one another.

2022 – What I Knew Then, What I Know Now – 2026

Osprey dung had become an obvious problem by 2022. It eats the paint off cars, porches, everything. A windshield count identified 60 nests on the island, add a conservative third again for nests invisible from the road and those invisible staring straight at them.

The Captain, again, proclaimed St. George Island the Osprey Capital of the World.

Even so, only two of the four nests out front creek fledged Ospreys that year. Ethel brooded a few days in April, abandoned that effort. In June, as eggs in Island Creek nests started hatching, Ethel and Mark-8 hunkered a second time for some serious incubation. Lasted a week. Ethel split when fish deliveries halted. She returned after geese spent a few hours stomping anything in the bottom of that nest to smithereens.

Mark-6 continued to slide sticks down triangular Marker 6 and visited Nests 1 and 2 when the males were absent. Twice I saw Mrs. B and Mark-6 breezily land side by side on Nest 2, like they’d just flown in from grabbing a quick drink. Mark-6 loitered briefly, Mrs. B was friendly, he flew off.

Likely Ethel’s chasing Mark-6 off her nest was actually following him into the South Copse. Although I hadn’t realized, in 2022, Ethel had returned from wintering in Central America as a free agent.

On July 12, the same day, Mr. B gave Mrs. B a fish to welcome her return, Mark-8 gave a fish to Ethel. There was a full moon, daylight hours waning, fishing had picked up, for whatever it’s worth.

Mark-8 had begun eating his fish on a low pier very near Nest 1. Ethel’s best chance for a piece was to wait in the nest. If she dropped down to the pier, he flew with his fish. The gulls, his ever present sentinels, cleaned up the pier. Once, with Ethel watching and calling, Mark-8 left a chunk of fish on the pier. The gulls were on it before his talons left the planking.

Both remained committed to that nest, still battling as allies against any intruders eyeing Nest 1.

The Osprey population increased every year, real estate naturally grew scarcer, and the trend continued into 2023. That season will have barely begun when an intruder rips Big Mama’s chest open, leaving her floating in the creek.

Previous Episode:  2022-4: Best to Lay by Early May

Upcoming Episode: 2023-1: Big Mama Attacked

Mr Bennet preferred the electric pole on the road to dine and to prepare a fish for nest delivery. He can see activity in Nests 1 and 2 from the pole, and probably action in nests across the creek to the south.

2022 – What I Knew Then, What I Know Now – 2026

 

The Bennets controlled territory beyond Nest 2. At least two loblollies in the middle of Parcel 157 Copse across the road belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Bennet; all four man-made poles surrounding the oyster house belonged to Mr. Bennet, and all the pilings along the lower side of the pier belonged to Mrs. Bennet. She selected her dining spot among them, perhaps based upon vessel configurations. Regardless, except for Mr. B, she allowed no other Osprey to perch on any of them.

Upon George’s arrival, the Bennets made clear that their territorial jurisdiction covered the entire pier, including the pilings on the upper side and the toe at the bottom of the “L,” where George was constructing his split-level nest.

The Bennet’s swooping and diving and squeeing opposition did not come close to the vigor of the Bigs’ hostility, their tenor reflected outrage of ancestral proportion against unpardonable nouveau.

Then again, for all I know, George’s installation at the end of the pier amounted to Osprey voodoo. Watermen avoided it.

Most likely George’s effrontery, squeezing between established territories, shoved property rights straight up those males’ beaks. Even Mr. Perfect, whose boundary lines were not impacted, joined the attacks.

Mrs. B and Big Mama stuck tight on their nests but rocketed into the air if Martha flew overhead, which usually Martha did not. At the first sign of aggression, Martha split, flew across the creek. When the locals came at George she’d absent herself, quick to leave the Purple Martin hotel to any invader.

Martha liked George to deliver her fish to pilings across the creek. And mating worked better on the pilings than George’s hot-mess nests of ’22. Martha did hang in the neighborhood, perched around the expanding split-level. But the only risk I ever saw her take was getting caught investigating other nests. When nest owners were absent — and the nests were empty of eggs or chicks — she’d hop in and look around.

But George did not abandon his split-level. Certainly not after holding his claim against the elder males. When matters calmed, Martha stood on the Purple Martin hotel, walked among George’s circular collection on the pier, and particularly liked perching on crossbars between a few pilings around the pier’s foot.

Neither George or Martha ventured farther up the pier than the foot. They’d additionally been granted five loblollies in my side yard, which, as the Osprey flies, is a straight shot off the toes to the trees, no invasion of airspace above the leg of the pier. Even so, Mrs. B left her early eggs. It was touch and go all season if she’d stick with Nest 2. She never did dine again on a piling along the oyster house pier.

Previous Episode: 2022-2: Building Code Spat
Upcoming Episode: 2022-4: Best to Lay by Early May

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2022 – What I Knew Then, What I Know Now – 2026

In 2022 the fledge classes of 2019 and 2020 roared into town, as obstreperous as ever the old Gang of Six. Youngsters canvased Island Creek through the summer, dipping into nests to attempt a claim, some ready to fight then and there.

Mark-8 and Ethel remained adamant about their possession of Nest 1, although neither were into nestorations. They persevered as non-traditionalists. Mark-8 wasn’t into fish delivery. And Ethel wasn’t into mating.

When Mark-8 zoomed in for a mating attempt—an approach favored by most lower-creek males—he’d have to walk Ethel’s shoulders down to force her tail up. If he succeeded with that, he’d have to walk his way back up to position his tail beneath hers. If all of this was accomplished, Ethel would swish her tail like she was all in, but whenever I caught a glimpse, she was all out of alignment.

Note: Ornithologists say Osprey do not trade fish for copulation, not in a tit for tat kind of way. The male necessity is to override his own survival instinct and give his fish away. So, while the giving is a huge thing, possibly even tied to his perception of masculinity, the female needs to calculate, Is it enough? He must feed her, her chicks, and himself. A miscalculation could trap her into a lifetime of begging calls and drudgery.

A new couple arrived in mid-April. I named them George and Martha for no reason at all. George began building a split-level atop a Purple Martin hotel rusted hollow. It was mounted at the toe of the L-shaped pier that separated the old Osprey nests from the new.

While George’s efforts sometimes appeared within the realm of possibility, they also smacked of the style of Mark-6, who in 2022 continued sliding sticks down Marker 6. George incorporated the sticks that fell off the Purple Martin hotel into the circle of rope, fabric, and various detritus comprising the garden level of his castle sprawled across the pier.

Just like that, the Bennets got another atypical neighbor, this couple flanking them on the north.

None of the neighborhood took it well.

Previous episode: 2022-1: Time Speeds Up

Upcoming episode 2022-3:  Territorial Negotiations