Galveston Island is halted at its southern tip (southwestern tip, to be exact) by San Luis Pass. The pass isolates the island from the peninsula of Follet’s Island (and High Island is a not an island either; it is a salt dome that is only an island during hurricanes). At the northeastern end of the island a similar set of circumstances occurs. There, Bolivar Roads (not a road, but a pass) separates the island from the Bolivar Peninsula. Galveston is the sand in this peninsular sandwich.

Extensive sand flats border these passes at each end of the island as well – East Beach to the north, San Luis Pass to the south. San Luis is by far the larger of the two, only because the North and South jetties have isolated East Beach from its sand source. That sand now collects at Bolivar Flats, making it the other major sand flat on the upper Texas coast.

Nothing appreciates a sand flat more than birds (and tiger beetles). Birds loaf, feed, mate, preen, nest, congregate, and rest on these flats. These Galveston sand flats are frequented by hundreds of thousands of birds each year. Some stay year round, some only for a day or so. Some winter, some breed, some fatten before they make their way along their migration routes. Some, like the black tern, coalesce in the tens of thousands. A few, like the lesser black-backed gull, only collect in ones and twos.

Least terns and black skimmers nest on the open sand. Snowy and Wilson’s plovers prefer the deeper sand behind the beach. Willets and horned larks like the vegetation that borders the open sand, and eastern meadowlarks stay in the coastal grasslands, the climax vegetation of this ecotype. Seaside sparrows (and seaside dragonlets) stick to the smooth cordgrass. No trees here; the coastal sand flat is far too dynamic to be attractive to a plant that takes decades to mature.

Birds are not the only wildlife to find sand flats attractive. Ridley’s sea-turtles, a critically endangered species, have begun to return to our sand flats to bury their clutch. Bobcats, raccoons, and coyotes saunter through hoping to ambush unsuspecting pray. Sand flats are a cafeteria for predators so inclined.

Humans are also a predator here, motived by impulses others than consumption. Humans prey on sand flat wildlife through ignorance, through insouciance. They drive their SUVs over baby Wilson’s plovers, tiny cotton swabs perched on matchstick legs. They spin their wheels through black skimmer eggs, and squash least tern chicks between their treads. Hey, it’s just good-natured fun! Hell, it’s Texas! It’s my God-given (or at least Lone Star-given) right!

Actually, no. There is no “unalienable” right to kill. You can hunt. You can fish. Both are regulated, and there are laws that determine when, where, and how many you can “take.” But the public, ignorant as it is, has no right to slaughter the sand flats because it is too insensate to care. I grew up on these beaches. I have fished, hunted, photographed, birded, bugged, and surfed them for my entire lifetime. I know how idiotic Texans can be on a beach, but killing is not idiotic. It is illegal. It is evil.

My brethren, my fellow Texans, are once again on a rampage. They are spilling onto these sand flats, carving their SUVs through birds, beaches, and babies. They do not care who or what gets hurt. They have their misperceived, Palinesque “rights.”

If you care about these sand flats, if you care about these birds and other wildlife, if you care about a landscape that defines who we are as Galvestonians, then you should care enough to take the actions necessary to stop these fools. Here is what I would do (and am doing). Call, write, or visit the City of Galveston, Texas Parks and Wildlife, US Fish and Wildlife Service, and the National Marine Fisheries Service and demand that they enforce the law (think West Virginia and coal mines). Write your newspapers and bring this to the public’s attention. Mention this issue at your local birding club meeting. But most importantly, get pissed. Get mad. Get involved.

Ted Eubanks
12 April 2010