The Thrill of Nesting: Local Birders Follow Osprey Saga

You’re probably familiar with the “little ditty” about Jack and Diane, the bittersweet love story immortalized by John Cougar Mellencamp. But what about St. Petersburg’s own homegrown Jack-and-Diane romance – not of two kids growing up in the heartland, but of two ospreys growing up at a local credit union? 

It all started in 2016, when the two lovebirds attempted to build their first nest atop the large sign at Achieva Credit Union off 4th Street North. It is not unusual to observe ospreys’ nests in such unlikely places; these highly adaptable raptors naturally nest atop dead trees, but will readily adapt to nesting on utility poles, channel markers, and other tall, man-made structures. However, weighing in at up to four pounds with an impressive five-foot wingspan, ospreys are not small birds, and their nests are suitably spacious, growing up to a few feet in diameter, and 10 feet in depth, after years of repeated use. 

Sadly, the Achieva ospreys’ nest was too large to fit safely on the sign, and a storm later in the year blew it down.

But all was not lost. With the help of the Clearwater Audubon Society, Achieva was able to erect a 55-foot pole topped with a nesting platform and a perch for the birds in time for the 2017 nesting season, which typically runs January and February. They also installed a critter cam that streamed live footage of the ospreys – whom employees decided to call Jack and Diane – building their nest. Stick by stick, the photogenic fish hawks became minor internet celebrities. 

Osprey are a relatively common sight in St. Pete, perhaps a bit too easy to take for granted. While most have noticed the bird’s spectacular plunging dive when foraging for fish, few of us have gotten close enough to appreciate their remarkable adaptations: nostrils that close completely when the hawk immerses up to three feet down to pursue its prey; opposable outer toes that slide backward for an optimal grasp on its slippery dinner. At 400 pounds per square inch – about four times the strength of the strongest human hand-squeeze – that’s quite a grip! 

And despite our very dense human population (packing in 3,425 people per square mile) and our highly developed landscape, osprey have managed to live quite successfully in Pinellas County. Like many raptor species, osprey populations suffered a severe decline in the 1950s and 1960s, when organochlorine pesticides such as DDT caused ospreys’ eggshells to thin, stymying their reproductive success. But unlike many of their feathered fellows, osprey populations have since seen a remarkable recovery, due in large measure to their adaptability in nesting sites and their ability to forage both fresh and saltwater. The Center for Conservation Biology’s Osprey Watch tracker lists approximately 240 nests county-wide, and Pinellas’s abundant ponds and bayous offer an endless buffet for this bird whose diet consists almost entirely of fish. (If you’ve ever come across a dead fish on a sidewalk or parking lot, seemingly far from a water source, it’s likely that an osprey dropped its lunch!) 

So, it’s easy to understand how multiple St. Pete residents – and even a few folks from outside Florida – became just a little bit attached to the plucky young couple in their starter home on the corner of 4th and 62nd Street. While Achieva had its own Facebook page devoted to osprey cam footage, a private group called Achieva Osprey with Jack and Diane also emerged, sharing screen captures and snippets of footage with detailed updates to an audience of about 400 members. Viewers noted each gift of fish that Jack brought to a brooding Diane, each first appearance of an osplet (lovingly nicknamed “bobbleheads”), and each first flight of a fledgling, with the doting enthusiasm of aunts and uncles.  

“I watched every day, even during winter months,” notes Mikel Parkhurst, a retiree who has followed the cam from his home outside Dallas, Texas, since 2023. “Birds have always made me stop in awe.”

But life wasn’t always easy for Jack and Diane. Even as they successfully raised eight chicks across eight seasons, the parents faced challenges from predators such as squirrels, platform maintenance issues, and occasionally lost an egg or a chick (Parkhurst notes a total of six chicks that have died over the years). A consistent source of trouble are the drainage holes cut into the nest platform. Designed to keep the slightly concave structure from flooding during heavy rains, the gaps on Jack and Diane’s nest are large enough to allow predators in and nesting materials – and occasionally an egg – to fall through.

Then came 2024. The osprey family, like so many other families in that difficult year, was not spared its measure of sorrow. Jack returned from his solitary migration in September and began making occasional appearances at the nest. Even after hurricane winds tore away much of the nest he and Diane had built over the years, Jack quickly got to work, hauling sticks for its exterior walls and bark, grasses, and other softer materials to line its interior. “In the end,” notes Parkhurst, “Jack came through and built one spectacular new nest.”

All the while, he awaited Diane’s return.

She never came. It’s unclear what happened to her. She may have been taken by a predator, struck by a car, or become entangled in fishing line, unable to fly. She may have been lost in the storm. As October stretched into January, however, one thing was for sure: Jack wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s getting hard to watch him,” one Facebook follower opined, “just sitting there calling, and nothing happening.”

But, as the great John Cougar Mellencamp reminds us, life goes on. At the beginning of February, a new female started visiting the nest. It wasn’t long before Jack began bringing her fish – call it an osprey valentine – and Facebook viewers speculated as to how long “Lady O” might stay. The first of two eggs appeared on February 28. Soon after, the commenters dubbed Jack’s new mate “Jill.” Jack and Jill’s first chick hatched on April 4. 

If only that’s how the story ended. But life is tough for osprey chicks, especially in their first year, where some studies have suggested that their mortality rates can be as high as 60-80%. Sadly, one week after it hatched, Jack and Jill’s chick and its sibling egg disappeared from the nest, victims of a predator or a long fall. 

Their Facebook friends were, as one viewer puts it, distraught. They started looking for help. “Purely and simply,” said Dorothy Auld, Jack and Jill need “a nest with much smaller drainage holes.” 

“The platform needs a real overhaul,” agrees Parkhurst. In addition to fixing the drainage system, he contends, the platform should have an additional perch and a heavy-duty predator baffle. Trimming back branches on an adjacent tree would also help discourage predators.  

“To lose their chicks again and again,” pleads Auld, “is not a fair situation for the parents to have to go through each year.” The Facebook group is in the process of contacting the National Audubon Society but is also willing to work with any local rehabbers who will take on the task of refitting the platform.

As the fate of the Achieva nest rests in the balance, this, at least, is clear: the lives of the birds who inhabit it are, for this devoted group of birdwatchers, as engrossing as any TV drama, as moving as any love song – we only need to tune in and listen.