Inside the All-Out, 16-State Mission to Save the American Oystercatcher

With a long, powerful bill capable of slicing open shells that most other birds can’t crack, the American Oystercatcher seems well equipped to find plenty to eat in its coast-hugging habitats.

In the early 2000s, though, scientists noticed oystercatchers’ namesake food source was disappearing—and the shorebirds were following suit. Oyster reefs where the birds forage were receding, while development and rising seas threatened important coastal nesting habitats. By 2008 surveys found the species’ main populations along the Atlantic and Gulf Coasts had dropped by 8 percent in five years, with only around 10,000 individuals remaining. Unless something major changed, experts feared, the bird was headed toward the endangered species list.

The drop set off alarm bells for the American Oystercatcher Working Group, a coalition of shorebird experts founded in 2001. But when its members approached the National Fish and Wildlife Foundation for help, the grant maker requested something unusual: a business plan.

Thinking of birds as “returns on investment” felt foreign at first, says Alex Wilke, a coastal scientist at The Nature Conservancy. But the conservationists soon saw the value of focusing on efforts that would get the most bang for their buck. The goal was ambitious—a 30 percent increase in oystercatchers over 10 years. To make it happen, the foundation agreed to provide $5 million in funding, matched by $5 million raised by coalition members.

After that, oystercatcher work “just sort of snowballed,” says Shiloh Schulte, a Manomet Conservation Sciences biologist who coordinates the recovery program. As momentum built, more than 35 nonprofits and public agencies across 16 states joined the campaign, Audubon among them. Two years ago, scientists counted more than 14,000 American Oystercatchers throughout the East, a stunning 43 percent increase from their low point, bucking the trend of decline among most North American shorebirds. The difference, Schulte says, is a shift from small, scattershot initiatives to a united front where funding requests are cooperative, actions are coordinated, and successes are quickly replicated.

Conservationists from Maine to Texas have been busy putting the business plan into action. At the top of the list is taking on predators; egg-munchers like cats, foxes, and raccoons are the most common source of nest failures. An increase in coyotes has been a tough challenge for oystercatcher monitors across the southeastern range, says Audubon North Carolina coastal biologist Lindsay Addison. “You're putting a lot of effort into this, it's hard work, it's outdoors, and you don't get any success because the coyote came and ate everything,” she explains. “It's really a drag.”

Trapping has been an important strategy in some habitats—but it only goes so far. Partners at some sites have tested more creative deterrents, like spiking dummy eggs with estrogen, which turns raccoons and mink off from their taste and smell. Elsewhere, biologists have tried making visual barriers by hanging strings of plastic or cloth flags that wave in the wind; known as fladry, the technique has shown promise in warding coyotes off from nesting sites.

When it comes to habitat, oystercatchers can be stubborn: They’re known for returning year after year to the same spots at beaches, marshes, and barrier islands, even if storms and sea-level rise begin to threaten their chicks. Working group members are trying an assortment of techniques to keep the nests above water, creating artificial island habitat out of 316,000 cubic yards of dredged sand in Georgia and constructing nesting platforms out of natural fiber and cement slurry in Virginia.

Unsurprisingly, oyster health has also been a priority. In 2020, Audubon North Carolina and partners built a new oyster reef in the Lower Cape Fear River, installing 160-foot clumps of shells upon which new oysters can grow. The project and others like it are powered by recycling programs that collect discarded shells from seafood eateries. So, “eat oysters, everybody,” Addison says. “I don’t personally like them, but other people need to eat lots of them.”

Backing for American Oystercatchers hasn’t been limited to conservation scientists; the charismatic birds “gather their own support,” says New Jersey wildlife biologist Emily Heiser. Committed volunteers in New Jersey and across the East have taken a keen interest in individual pairs. Some have even plucked stranded birds from flooded jetties or, in one extraordinary case, swam to rescue a chick that had washed out to sea. (Don’t do that, by the way.) Growing public interest, augmented by onsite outreach by volunteers and seasonal technicians, has spread the word about one of the most effective oystercatcher interventions: leaving them alone, whether that means giving nests a wide berth on popular beaches or restraining domestic pets.

American Oystercatchers may need as much of that attention as they can get. Though supporters are celebrating the recent population milestones, they also have their eyes fixed firmly on the future, where rising sea levels, stronger storms, and broader conservation funding uncertainties threaten to reverse hard-won gains. “We definitely can't let our guard down,” Wilke says.

Update: Conservationist Shiloh Schulte died in a helicopter crash while conducting fieldwork in Alaska on June 4, 2025, after this story was reported.

This story ran in the Summer 2025 issue as “Shelling Out.” To receive our print magazine, become a member by making a donation today.