A Little Seabird’s Big Struggle: Facing Dangers in the Ancient Forests

In 1812, Russian fur traders established Fort Ross on the rugged California coast. They immediately began felling majestic redwood trees, using the lumber to construct their fort, homes, and a church. Today, over two centuries later, the fort is a state park. The redwood grove has slowly reclaimed its former glory, once again offering the dappled shade of an old-growth forest, complete with a fern-covered floor and a gentle creek flowing nearby.

But a critical question remains: Is this regrown habitat truly suitable for the marbled murrelet? This unique seabird, roughly the size of a robin, ventures inland each year to lay a single egg high on a large, moss-laden branch deep within the redwood canopy. Researchers are now employing advanced technology, including artificial intelligence, to track these elusive birds and understand if these restored areas can support their dwindling populations.

William O’Brien, a wildlife biologist leading a study by North Coast Resource Management, explains the murrelet’s specific nesting preferences. “They seek old-growth trees with wide branches where debris or moss has accumulated,” he notes. “These canopy nests offer protection from strong winds and extreme temperatures, providing the dark, moist conditions they favor.”

Known affectionately as ‘mamu,’ the marbled murrelet holds the distinction of being the only seabird that nests in the forests of the lower 48 states. During spring and summer, when the breeding instinct calls, a murrelet can fly 30 to 40 miles or more inland. Both parents share incubation duties for their single egg. Once the chick hatches, they embark on frequent trips to the ocean, bringing fish back to their hungry offspring up to eight times a day.

After about a month, the adult birds cease their visits. The chick then sheds its downy covering, revealing its adult feathers. In a remarkable feat, the fledgling instinctively navigates the dense forest canopy to reach the ocean, without any prior practice flights. This mysterious journey contributes to their moniker, “enigma of the Pacific.” Early loggers called them “fog larks” due to their ethereal appearance, darting through the cloud-shrouded redwood crowns.

The marbled murrelet is currently listed as federally threatened in the Lower 48 states, with an estimated population of around 23,000 birds. In California, Oregon, and Washington, its status is even more critical, classified as endangered. Fortunately, Alaska still hosts healthy populations.

Scott Pearson, a senior research scientist with the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, has spent two decades conducting sea surveys to monitor old-growth forest health and its impact on murrelets. He reports that the decline is most severe in northern Washington, where numbers have plummeted from 10,000 to approximately 4,500 in just twenty years. A primary factor in this sharp drop, according to Mr. Pearson, is the collapse of key fish populations, particularly the nutritionally rich eulachon.

Adding to the murrelet’s challenges, the previous administration proposed changes to the Endangered Species Act regulations. These changes would remove habitat harm from the definition of ‘harm’ to a species, arguing that the original law focused on direct killing or capture, not habitat alteration. This proposal was seen as part of broader efforts to boost drilling, logging, and development by easing environmental regulations. If implemented, such a change would fundamentally undermine a long-standing safeguard against extinction, by no longer recognizing habitat preservation as a critical means of protecting at-risk species.

Noah Greenwald of the Center for Biological Diversity warns that “not including harm as habitat destruction would be very detrimental to the marbled murrelet, because they need protection for their old-growth forest home.” The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, when asked for comment, referred only to the proposed changes without further elaboration.

Despite these challenges, federal wildlife officials noted in a recent review that murrelet numbers appear stable in some areas, concluding that the seabird should maintain its protected status. Furthermore, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit recently upheld a ruling that logging old-growth trees in Oregon’s Elliott State Forest would indeed harm endangered murrelets and violate the Endangered Species Act.

In Oregon, two ongoing long-term studies are shedding light on these reclusive birds. Researchers, including Matthew G. Betts, a professor of landscape ecology at Oregon State University, have discovered that murrelets prefer to nest near other murrelets. This colonial nesting behavior is vital for forest protection efforts. “Young birds seek out suitable habitats by listening for more experienced birds, leading to distinct murrelet communities across the landscape,” Dr. Betts explains. They’ve also observed that these birds avoid nesting near forest edges, such as roads or logging clear-cuts, to evade predators. “We’ve captured red-tailed hawks on camera preying on chicks,” Dr. Betts added.

As the murrelet’s natural world diminishes, conservation efforts at places like Fort Ross are crucial for identifying and protecting alternative habitats. The Save the Redwoods League, a nonprofit organization, owns the Sonoma Coast Redwoods, adjacent to the state park, and is funding research into the extent to which murrelets will utilize developing second-growth trees.

Over 150 years ago, extensive clearcutting by timber companies along the Pacific Coast obliterated approximately 95 percent of old-growth redwoods, which constituted the vast majority of California’s murrelet breeding habitat. While they favor redwoods for their immense height and large branches, murrelets also nest in fir and spruce trees.

Beyond habitat destruction, other significant threats imperil these seabirds. Oil spills, notably the Exxon Valdez disaster in 1989, caused severe population losses. Additionally, murrelets frequently become entangled in fishing nets as they dive and chase fish underwater. Predators like ravens and Steller’s jays also raid their nests for eggs. Conservationists point to human activity, specifically picnickers, for inadvertently supporting these predators. Parks like Big Basin Redwoods State Park run campaigns urging visitors to clean up thoroughly.

Portia Halbert, a senior environmental scientist for California State Parks, emphasizes the human impact: “We provide food to their predators and increase the number of their predators. Even a crumb can support the predators that will contribute to the death of a marbled murrelet.”

Climate-related events also pose a severe threat. Redwood forests, typically temperate rainforests known for fog and rain, once rarely experienced intense wildfires. Their thick, spongy bark provided natural protection. However, a warming climate is leading to drier conditions. The CZU fire, sparked by an unusual dry lightning storm in 2020 that delivered 11,000 strikes along the West Coast, devastated the birds’ nesting areas. Ninety-seven percent of Big Basin Redwoods State Park burned, with half of its redwoods severely damaged, though most are now regrowing. The subsequent proliferation of Ceanothus thyrsiflorus, or blueblossom, a plant with flammable oils, introduces new risks. “My big fear is another catastrophic fire,” Ms. Halbert expressed, fearing an “ecosystem type conversion” that could transform the towering redwood forest into shrubland.

Remarkably, despite the fires, researchers discovered California’s first new murrelet nest in 30 years within a burned but still standing tree, capturing rare video footage of a chick’s inaugural flight to the sea.

The murrelet’s dual existence, spanning both sea and forest, makes it particularly vulnerable. It spends nine months at sea, diving for sardines and anchovies, using its wings as flippers — a trait shared by only a few other birds like puffins and guillemots. Marine threats include warming ocean waters and shifting fish populations. The phenomenon known as ‘the Blob,’ a mass of hot water in the Pacific from 2013 to 2016, severely impacted murrelet populations by hindering upwelling, which is essential for bringing nutrients to small fish.

With such a multitude of external threats, researchers recognize that merely protecting existing primary nesting sites in national and state parks is insufficient. New habitats must be identified and safeguarded. Studying murrelets is notoriously difficult; their nests are so well camouflaged that the Audubon Society once offered a $100 reward for locating them. Their preferred nesting habitat remained unknown until 1974, when an arborist in Big Basin discovered a baby murrelet, which he described as a “fluffball,” during tree trimming. Biologists require a week of specialized training to accurately identify the birds during surveys, conducted an hour before sunrise and an hour after, when the birds are most active and vocal. They are also monitored from boats and aircraft at sea.

The integration of artificial intelligence and other technologies is revolutionizing murrelet research, unveiling unprecedented insights into these reclusive birds. At Fort Ross, Mr. O’Brien has deployed automated recording units on redwood trees. These devices collect vast amounts of audio and video wildlife data, which AI will then analyze for murrelet calls. Ultimately, what the murrelets need most for their recovery is time. “We’re talking on the scale of centuries,” Mr. O’Brien stresses, “for these trees to develop the large nesting platforms that murrelets require.”