Wood duck mother and duckling

Something is going on with nests in Prospect Park this season. They’re everywhere. You can’t walk 50 feet in the park bumping into some adorable tableau of chirping baby birds. Half the trees in the park seem to be brimming with exhibitionist robin families.
The big unusual nests this year are green herons and wood ducks (which are living somewhere near dog beach–but where they nested, I don’t know.)

Green herons are nesting on the lullwater and near the less-fancy bridge by the boathouse.

Green heron on nest by the boathouse. Babies are tucked under her wing.

Green heron feeds her creepy-looking babies.

Swans in the park, as if in defiance of a potential plan to wipe them out, are multiplying. They have two nests, one helpfully placed on an island by the ice rink to make for easy viewing.

The father swan normally spends his days chasing off other waterfowl, but he came and sat on the eggs with his wife. Apparently he was alarmed by a mommy mallard and her ducklings nearby.

Baby Swans

I havent’ seen barn swallows build nests on the boathouse yet, just in the tunnels.

Barn swallow nest

These robins are so desperate for attention they build nests at eye level, sometimes below. Still, they’re fun to watch.

Robin nest

Robin’s Nest

It’s treat to see any bird who isn’t a robin building a nest.

Catbird nest

Blue jay nest, sort of sloppy

Sparrows mating in the traffic nest pole.

Mystery Egg

Always a crowd pleaser, mallard ducklings.

Mommy mallard teaches babies to dive

Snapping Turtle digs nest

Cardinal nestlings

Four green heron chicks in Prospect Park, Brooklyn

Prospect Park is becoming some kind of hot spot for green heron nests. Several pairs are building nests or raising young in what’s becoming a heron co-op near the Lullwater.

The first big heron nest of the season was over the Nethermead, a busy lawn. The heron parents survived the Googa Mooga and their three chicks fledged. I heard one ran into trouble with fishing line and may have been removed from the park.

Now green herons have built at least two new nests in the same neighborhood–a patch of woods between the Nethermead and Lullwater. One heron picked at a nest in the same stand of trees, but higher up.  Another sat on a nest that overhangs the Lullwater. She was just a couple trees down from a mulberry tree that is dropping berries into the water now, attracting a big crowd of red-eared sliders, catbirds and squirrels. The herons sometimes squawk at the commotion.

Meanwhile, four young green herons sat in an oak tree overhanging the water. They are starting to look like herons, but still have a delightful fluff around them.

AnimalDiversity says they only breed once a year, but do sometimes form loose communities. We have potentially four heron families in the same little area. Plus, potentially another pair that is living around the upper pond in the ravine.

Green Heron on nest over Lullwater

Green heron advertises his new nest.

Snapping turtle in the Phragmites of Prospect Park Lake.

For months I have been chasing the biggest animal in Prospect Park, an enormous snapping turtle, hoping to get a picture, or at least a glimpse. The turtle–along with a similar one in nearby Green-Wood Cemetery–would be a fantastic urban legend–were it not for the photographic proof that they really exist.

Plenty of people say they saw a huge turtle–and almost universally describe her as “big as a garbage can lid.”  The captain of the lake boat says it lives near the Terrace Bridge that crosses the Lullwater. Fishermen report seeing it just the other side of that bride. Last year a huge nesting snapping turtle got caught in the fence by the boathouse and a park worker who handles lots of wildlife says he thinks it lives in the center of the lake.

Meanwhile, in Green-Wood, it’s the Crescent Water, a smallish pond near the southern end of the graveyard, that holds a huge turtle, according to Rob Jett, an incredibly skilled birder who leads tours of the cemetery.

Snapping turtle in Green-Wood, by Jeremy Seto

The giant turtle in Prospect Park may be “Godzilla,” a favorite turtle that was moved from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden when they drained their Japanese Garden pond. People who didn’t want to drain the pond cited the giant turtle as a reason not to. Then–just like in the News Radio episode where everyone loved the office’s one nice, friendly rat named Mike–until they figured out that there were a dozen or so of him–the garden drained the pond and discovered a whole group of Godzillas.
So there may be one each in Prospect Park and Green-Wood or there may be a whole bunch. This is the best time of year to see them–when females come out of the water to lay eggs. I’ve seen a baby snapping turtle, an economy or mid-sized one, but never one that I would compare to a garbage can lid. Mind you, almost all of the turtles you see in New York City are just red-eared sliders–abandoned pets–not powerful snapping turtles.

New York state is, oddly, considering a bill that would allow trapping snapping turtles. We already let people hunt them with bows and guns, but this bill would allow trapping “spearing, catching with the hands, or by use of a club or hook.” Now that is one thing I don’t want to see in Prospect Park. I don’t much care for the plan that rounds up and gasses Canada geese every year throughout the city, but at least you would think it’s easier to let the turtles do it for free. Wildlife advocates are urging people to write to their assembly members to stop the new law, which they fear will lead to deaths of many other endangered turtles.

It was in the Nethermead, the area now taken over by the awful Oooga Mooga, which probably driving out the nesting green herons found by photographer Peter Colon.

I saw these turtles on May 1. They had first been seen two weeks earlier under a toupe of grass that you could lift up and see them squirm. Were they from last year, but somehow went more slowly and were sped up by the spot of hot weather we had? According to redearslider.com the eggs usually hatch in 60-80 days and need temperatures in the 80s. That puts the egg-laying back in February or March, but obviously the temperatures were nowhere near warm enough. The hole is only a few inches deep.

I don’t see how any of these babies could make it to water without getting run-over by a human. But then again, I can’t see how the turtle mom made it to this patch of grass, either.

Snapping turtle in the Phragmites of Prospect Park Lake.

The only downside: the sliders aren’t native and I wonder how many birds–like wood ducks–they eat or discourage.

Where to SEE TURTLES & TORTOISES

Red eared sliders sunning themselves on one of the many turtle logs in the Lullwater.

Huckleberry says hi to a (mostly harmless) red-eared slider turtle. Turtles, fish and ducks hang around Prospect Park’s dog beach and snap up the treats people throw to their dogs in the water. Let those who think dogs terrify all wildlife come visit.

The giant snapping turtle in Prospect Park’s lullwater is about 25 years old and as big as a garbage can lid, says Jimbo, the captain of the electric boat that twho steers the electric boat that tours Prospect Park Lake on weekends. I went on the tour a couple weeks ago, and though I haven’t yet actually seen the turtle, I’ve heard others confirm the legend. Park workers have seen ducks yanked underwater by some predator.

Jimbo says with great Brooklyn flair that the turtle often bumps the bottom of his boat and can give a real shove if he’s in a little skiff. Last year the turtle was hit by a cyclist–Jimbo does an amusing impression of the spandex-sheathed weenies who zip around the park oblivious to every other living creature. The cyclist crashed, bent his wheel, but the turtle just plod on.

A couple years ago somebody was laying traps for turtles in the lake, the Brooklyn Paper reported.

The turtle may be the one transplanted from neighboring Brooklyn Botanic Garden when they renovated the Japanese garden and pond in 1999. The next year the turtle known as Godzilla tried to cross Flatbush Avenue and head home but was thwarted by do gooders, the New York Times says.

Prospect Park has several species of turtles, but most individuals are non-native red-eared sliders. The park is sometimes a dumping ground for failed pet owners. In June these turtles leave the ponds to lay eggs–if they can get around the gauntlet of people who might run them down or try to help them by returning them to water.

In most of the rest of the country, country snapping turtles are more of interest as something to catch and eat: “There are many different ways of taking turtles. The old-timers say “noodling” is the best,” Ohio wildlife officials say. Yeah, great idea. That would certainly hillbilly handfishing more of a high stakes sport, considering snapping turtles can have a bite force of 1,000 pounds.

An enormous snapping turtle in Brooklyn Green-Wood Cemetery, by James Castle / Jeremy Seto

How big do snapping turtles get? The common ones, (Chelydra serpentina), normally grow up to 20 inches or 25 pounds. Alligator snapping turtles  (Macrochelys temminckii), are much bigger and spikier but they mainly live down south. Darren Naish, who writes about reptiles, says that there’s a long history of unverifiably enormous alligator snappers “bigger than the ‘verified’ ones,” with the most famous “was the gigantic individual, dubbed variously the ‘Beast of ‘Busco’ or ‘Oscar’ (after Oscar Fulk, allegedly the first witness), that supposedly dwelt in Fulk’s Lake, Churubusco, Indiana.” Sightings went on for 50 years, with one 1949 account describing it as 1.8 m long.  A couple men even died trying to catch and measure the beast.

I hope to see the big Brooklyn turtle, but I’m not sure how I can make that happen.

Where to go to see turtles

Bill Deerr lassos a seal

Brigatine, NJ’s Marine Mammal Stranding Center is gearing up for busy season. The seal and turtle hospital 10 minutes from the Trump Taj Mahal in Atlantic City gets most of its human visitors in summer. But seals tend to land sick or injured on beaches from January to April or May. You don’t get to pet them or anything, but you can still come on Sundays in winter and see the process.

“Folks will only get to see the animals via TV camera because the little darlings are inside two air-conditioned buildings that are not accessible to the public,” says co-director Sheila Dean, who started the quiet little center with her husband Robert Schoelkopf in 1978.

Right now the center has one cold-stunned turtle in critical condition and one gray seal, who has been recovering for nine months and is set to be released Wednesday in Tuckerton Bay.  A big colony of harbor seals lives off shore and she can either join them or just head out to sea.

They had both worked at Atlantic City’s old timey amusement park the Steel Pier in 1976. She was a seal and dolphin trainer; he was a manager. She likes helping the animals back to the wild much better than teaching them tricks. “Sure, some live longer in captivity, but at what cost?” Together they would go out on calls for stranded marine mammals, even though they didn’t have a real place to care for them.

Over the last 35 years they’ve been perfecting the operation, which now includes a marine mammal ambulances (one for whales and dolphins, another for smaller creatures), boats, rehab pools and museum.

Check out the Marine Mammal Stranding Center

The center is feeling the recession and needs more donations. They even have a wish list of physical items.

Where to go to see seals

threatened American alligator

Visit South of the Border  its absurdist roadside extravaganza, stay for its surprisingly comprehensive crocodile exhibit. The kitschy South Carolina rest stop started yet another improbable attraction: a single story commercial building alongside I-95 building turned into a habitat for crocodiles, turtles and snakes.

How is this better than a roadside zoo? Well, it’s not, except they house unloved reptiles and donate money to crocodile causes. None of the animals are rescues, says Dr. Sam Seashole, a veterinarian who loves reptiles and has spent a career working with them. They just “came from other institutions.”  The 40,000 square foot reptile lagoon has a few endangered species, though, and they might one day take part in a breeding and reintroduction program–if that’s necessary.

The lagoon promises that “part of every admission goes to the Crocodile Conservation Institute, which helps save crocodiles and their habitat around the world.” That’s not exactly the reptilian version of Audubon. It’s a non-profit built to give money from South of the Border to croc causes. Animal tourists pay $5 to visit.  The Crocodile Conservation Institute’s online tax return shows a budget of only $35,000 for its first year; none of the board got paid. Dr. Seashole says they recently wired off a donation to a Philippine group.

SEE ANIMALS IN THE SOUTH (AL, AR, GA, KY, MS, LA, NC, SC, TN, VA, WV)

Where to SEE TURTLES & TORTOISES

The current Wildlife Center of Texas represents what many urban rehabilitators are hoping to become: a professional outfit the public can turn to when they find orphaned or injured wildlife.  Executive director Sharon Schmalz started saving native animals in her backyard after a 1984 oil spill.

She and a team of other rehabbers, who, like rehabbers overall, are mostly women, built up the operations. They partnered with the Houston SPCA (which sends them wild patients) and Texas A&M University School of Veterinary Medicine. They got some funding from oil companies like Shell and Citgo (still no public funding available, even though wildlife is a public asset). And in 2007 they moved into their new building.

They’re on track to take in 8,500 patients this year, up from 7,000 in a typical year, because the drought is putting extra stress on animals.

“We’re really in the middle of Houston, so people ask, how do you get so much wildlife?” Schmaltz says. “But we’re also in the middle of the migration path.”

Their typical customer is a bird–dove, mockingbird or blue jay–but they also see pelicans and herons, who visit the coast.

“We get things people find in their backyard,” says operations manager Margaret Pickell. That means the usual suspect mammals–possums, rabbits, racoons and squirrels. But they’ve also treated trickier patients, like otters, beavers and bobcats. And they even treated a hooked, endangered Kemp’s Ridley sea turtle found on a street (probably dumped there).

Check out the Wildlife Center of Texas

SEE ANIMALS IN TEXAS

This is one of the increasing number of “holidays” that completely lack tradition, festivities or fun. Even if you like turtles–and who doesn’t?–what can you do to celebrate them or help them in any way?

–Move them to the side of the road, the side they were headed to. My cousin Andy Johnson saved this soft-shelled turtle on Sanibel last week.

–Don’t keep them as pets

–Don’t eat turtle soup

–Be careful with your plastic bags around the ocean. Silly turtles mistake them for jellyfish.

–Don’t eat shrimp from other countries–or Louisiana. Turtles get caught in shrimping nets and drown. Shrimp boats catch 1.8 million tons of marine life every year, the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch program says. Conservation groups fought a long hard battle to get the U.S. to require turtle excluder devices on fishing boats in our waters and later on anybody we import from.

Some didn’t care. TEDS cut mortality, but only by 20-40%, not the 90-95% biologists were expecting if they had full compliance, SeaTurtle.org says. Louisiana even banned its fisheries police from busting fishermen and many suspected fishermen weren’t using them after the gulf oil spill, the New York Times reported. Far more turtles than usual washed up dead. They didn’t show signs of oil; instead they showed signs of drowning in fishing nets. Some had shrimp in their throats (something they don’t usually eat). And results this year show the same, the Times reported. Meanwhile, Mississippi tightened its rules. Nobody would want to punish Louisiana fishermen after all they’ve been through, but their state’s rules aren’t fair on Mississippi fishermen, other Americans or turtles.

Just last month Sea Turtle Conservation urged people to contact NOAA about enforcing the excluders. In 2010 the U.S. even banned imports of wild-caught shrimp from Mexico, but let them in seven months later.

Seafood watch comes up with some alternatives to imported shrimp; they rate wild-caught and farmed U.S. shrimp as “Good Alternative,” with pink shrimp from Oregon, and spot prawn from British Columbia as “Best Choices.”

Where to SEE TURTLES & TORTOISES

SEE ANIMALS IN THE SOUTH (AL, AR, GA, KY, MS, LA, NC, SC, TN, VA, WV)

The giant, harmless crabs mate throughout May and June, piling up on beaches several deep. Females are bigger; males just pile on. The crabs numbers are in decline, largely because conch fishermen use them as bait. Plus, they are breakfast for endangered loggerhead sea turtles and migrating birds, particularly the red knot, Calidris canutus. And climate change may be pushing their numbers down, too, a study last year by USGS says.

Horseshoe crabs mating

The best times to see them are high and low tides on new and full moon. But if you show up a few days on either side of those events, you still have a good chance. I had thought it was a lot of hype, but when I was surprised how many there were when I went to see them in Delaware one night. Hundreds were piled up on the beach.

The best way to see them is to volunteer to be part of the survey. You have to go to horseshoe crab counting school first.

According to the Horseshoe Crab Census, the biggest nights are tonight and June 15.

Where to SEE HORSESHOE CRABS

Where to SEE TURTLES & TORTOISES