Monday 16 December 2013

Back home (via a few more penguins)

14th December

It's grey and wet outside so I'm sat in drinking mug after mug of tea. It's almost like being back on Bird Island. No, I can't fool myself. I'm finally back home after over two weeks of travel.

My final day in Stanley was terrific. After a morning stroll into town the weather cleared up and I headed out for a walk toward Gypsy Cove. As I headed toward the coast it got warmer and sunnier, until I was more worried about getting burnt than rained on.

The Lady Elizabeth, still fairly intact but kinda rusty.
Heading round past a variety of wrecks, some historic some not so much, I crossed over a headland and saw the vast expanses of white sand. Delightful as it looks though it's all out of bounds. Although it has been cleared of mines there remains a danger that those on the beach could have been washed out and could return at any time. The little bay at Gypsy Cove looked beautiful, with pristine beach and amazing sea, but I was quite happy with the lack of access as it enabled a group of Magellanic Penguins to relax their undisturbed.

The stunning Gypsy Cove.
Yeah, I probably won't be going to play in the dunes then.
Magellanic Penguins enjoying the sun.
With the large penguin group resting on the sand and several joining a few Gentoos in the shallows, there were still a few up near the path heading for their burrows where they will be incubating eggs out of the glare of the sun. For a long time I was the only human there and as I sat and ate my lunch of a fresh apple and some salad (still enjoying the novelty of crunchy green rather than soggy brown lettuce) I thought about the differences between these penguins and the ones I've been studying.

Unlike the Gentoos and Macaronis I'm studying, the Magellanics nest in burrows.
Enjoying the shade of a burrow. I don't normally photograph birds like this (I've seen far too many photographers shoving lenses down the burrows of stressed puffins) but this one, taken with a long lens, was sat there for ages seemingly enjoying being out of the hot sun.
Although fairly calm today, these ones had had to learn to deal with people and many more dangerous land predators while the BI ones have the odd skua or geep to fear. They duck nervously down their burrows while those in my study areas have to barge their way into the colony past a crowd of snapping beaks.

Snipe hiding in the grass.
Two-banded Plover.
Heading back I felt happy that I'd seen a few beaches and a few birds and I was looking forward to being back home. Before that though I had a whole day of flying to get through – a 5.30am start then a seven hour followed by a nine hour flight. This was broken up by an hour in 'the cage' at Ascension Island. That was great though – over 20C at night, sitting out in t-shirt and shorts, eating an ice cream in the dark. I was tempted to try and leg it off into the night and try and stay there awhile.

Eventually we got back to the UK. Under-slept and over-full of cheese toasties I was met by my parents and driven home for a cup of tea in the grey and wet north west. It's nice to be back and I'm trying not to think of all the excitement I'm missing on Bird Island.

This is something I've not had on Bird Island - crunchy, fresh veg and bursting cherry tomatoes.


Jerry.

Sunday 15 December 2013

Falkland Sun

12th December

I'm on the Falkland Islands now, we arrived here three days ago following a four day crossing from South Georgia. There were some rough seas – being woken up as I was thrown across the bed, walking down the corridor feeling like that fight scene in Inception – but I survived and even managed to make it to most of the meals.

We fly tomorrow morning so have had a few days to relax and manage a bit of exploring. There's about half a dozen of us here, some with office work to do while others, like me, content to wander around enjoying the sun, birdsong and vegetation that I've not seen in a year. Stanley isn't the most obviously spectacular place for plant life but just seeing and smelling the gorse in full bloom has been most welcome.

One of the ever-present Turkey Vultures soaring over Stanley.
A vulture making a meal of a goose, probably.
I took a wander up to the museum which has an interesting diversity of displays, at one point you can turn right to see specimens of the native fauna or left to see a range of guns used in the conflict. After that I browsed a few shops, picking up a few treats I've missed (milkshake).

The lighthouse at Cape Pembroke.
We managed to borrow a land rover (there's no other type of vehicle here) and headed out to Surf Bay then walked along to Cape Pembroke lighthouse. Although there were no dolphins or sea lions around it was a very nice walk with some smaller birds of interest to me, singing and flitting between low bushes.

Rufous-chested Dotterel. 
A Grass Wren that was singing in (and maybe about) the long grass.
It was a lovely, clear day with the sun out, although it was only when we climbed the lighthouse we realised how windy it was. By the time we got back to Surf Bay there were a lot more white-topped waves crashing onto the white sand.

Surf Bay looking amazing.
I couldn't resist the chance to get my shoes off and walk bare-foot through it, remembering the joys of getting freezing numb feet by the time the water gets above your ankles. That and being able to go for a walk in shorts for only the second time this year have been the highlights of my stay. That was when I really started to feel like I was on holiday.

It felt a little early in my real worl rehabilitation to visit a fancy restaurant but, along with others from the BAS and government offices and we had an excellent meal at the Malvinas Hotel. I usually feel a bit out of place in such venues but here I was able to reduce the impact of my awful hairstyle by sitting beside Ernie, whose long beard was plaited the previous night by a Pharos crew member.



The wall

6th December

I'm back on the ship and currently feeling okay. I saw the KEP doc and was given a couple of those magic little patches you stick behind your ears. I'll reserve my judgement on them until we get a bit further out into the true open ocean.

After extreme sun and lashing rain the first two days we got them alternating every few hours the next two. I spent my time exploring the old whaling station at Grytviken and the surrounding area. It was a good opportunity to experiment with new camera equipment and now I've time on the ship to edit photos and video I'll try and put something together.

Here's the result of that.

The highlight of my day was watching a young elephant seal climbing up onto a tiny wall, shuffling around and then getting down.





You can see it's moulting its fur so is probably all itchy and struggling to get comfortable. I went past it again about ten minutes later and it was back up on the wall.

Cumberland Bay, with Grytviken on the left and the BAS base on King Edward Point, the spit on the right.

Ellie rescue.

3rd December

A complete contrast to yesterday weather-wise, as the rain and cloud made the place seem a lot more like being back on Bird Island. With good waterproofs on I set off for a walk anyway but soon got distracted just past Grytviken by a seal rescue team. A drainage ditch that runs around the cemetery had become a bit eroded with the rain and meltwater and an Elephant Seal had managed to fall in and get stuck. Not a small one, it was wallowing like an unhappy hippo when we got there. I joined Rod, Sue and Daniel in digging out a wide channel to act as a slipway for it to climb up and escape. What I thought might be a big job was fairly simple, for as soon as it could see a route out the ellie started trying to climb, desperate to get its weight on firm ground. It was rewarding to see this mud-covered monster shuffling its way down to the sea.

One unhappy elephant seal.
Team seal rescue.
One relieved seal.
I continued on my way past many more sleeping ellies and small groups of Fur Seals, several with small puppies. I was continually interested by the number and variety of whale bones strewn over the narrow stretch of pebbles. I find the old whaling stations, such as Grytviken, both fascinating and horrific and the casual way all these treasures were scattered along the shore only gives a small sense of the scale of such an industry. I can't help but contrast it to the excitement and happiness we felt when seeing a small group of possible Sperm Whales way out at sea from the cliffs of Bird Island.

A whale vertebra. A bit big and probably illegal to bring back, however good a Christmas present it would make for my mum.

Wet from the feet up from stepping in bogs, rather than top down from all the rain, I arrived at Penguin River in time to eat my lunch watching a group of King Penguins in different moult stages huddle together while around them more young Elephant Seals wrestled in the water and male Fur Seal chased their ladies around, trying to round them up into harems.

King Penguins moulting in the well-named Penguin River.



Saturday 14 December 2013

Over the hills and far away.

2nd December

An absolutely gloriously sunny day and I had the good fortune to be invited out by Ella, the KEP boating officer who I met back in Cambridge, as she was showing Chris, here to run the museum, a great day-walk out over the mountains.

The terrain and landscape felt so much different from Bird Island. There when I go uphill it's almost all through tussac and mud, with seals hiding in the gaps. Here it was across scree slopes and up soft snow fields. None of them are easy walking but it's nice to have the variety. 



The views were just stunning; clear blue skies over turquoise waters, bisected by mountain ranges that, although not huge by the standards of continental ones, look as impressive and daunting as anywhere in the world. I've heard South Georgia described as a slice of the Alps chopped off and dumped in the ocean and that sounds pretty accurate to me.



As we sat eating our lunch beside a Papua Lake Ella was able to point out one of the glaciers in the distance and the alarming amount it has retreated in the last ten years. Recent enough that many of the maps still in use here are inaccurate for that area.


Near the lake we were berated by Terns, while on top of the ridges we had a few pristine Snow Petrels fly past us, but the place felt so quiet compared to Bird Island where Geeps whine and albatross mutter while there's a constant background throb and wail of Macaronis and seals.


It felt a priviledge to see such a place on such a day and, happy and sunburnt, I went out after dinner to watch the young Elephant Seals. It's been so nice to see so many little weiners; freshly moulted pups sleeping all over the shore, often lying alongside their buddies. The most fun to be had though is in watching the young ones play fighting in the shallows – raising themselves up then slamming into each others necks before one looks too far up, gets distracted by the sky and is then surprised by its combatant. It's a playful recreation of the brutal fights the males get themselves into when establishing dominance over a harem of females, except those guys stand taller than me and can do some real damage.




Jerry.

Arrivals / departure

1st December

Although it's not been too long since I last updated quite a lot has happened. The fact that I'm writing this while looking out of a ships cabin window over King Edward Point, South Georgia will attest to that.

A lovely sunset looking out to the JCR anchored off the bay during first call.

The first major change was first call. Thankfully a few days late which gave us the time to complete tidying, cleaning and paperwork for outgoing items the RRS James Clark Ross arrived at Bird Island and before we knew it out home of four people for the last eight months was full of 30 or so folk, many of them known to us from our time in Cambridge or from the journey down last year. Over two days of dubious weather they brought in all our fuel, food, kit and equipment for the next season. Several tons of timber also came ashore for infrastructure rebuilding later in the year. But of course the main change has been in the base personnel; Cian and Jess, the new seal and albatross assistants, Rob the new tech, Manos, who's in to upgrade the computer servers and Adam the new base commander. While Hannah and Steph will have a few months to pass over their expertise in the animal monitoring, Craig had two days to tell Rob everything he knows about keeping the base running – the generators, the electrics, the plumbing and a hundred quirks and tips to keep everything working. Craig headed off on the JCR for an exciting few months helping open the base at Signy then heading down to carry out some work at Rothera. It was sad seeing our winter team break up as it's been such a great time.

The ship returns on the nicest day ever.
A rising wind meant the last trip for the tender back to the ship was a bit hairy and they headed off to unload cargo at South Georgia. They were back a few days later though to pick up all our outgoing waste and recycling and they picked one of the nicest days Bird Island has ever witnessed. Blue skies, sun and flat calm waters meant everything went smooth and quick and after a morning rolling empty fuel drums we were able to get out up the hill and enjoy the spectacular views and the chance to carry out work unhindered by rain, although I soon learnt that shorts are not suitable attire when monitoring White-Chinned Petrels due to their velociraptor-like claws.

The RRS James Clark Ross just before heading away for another year.
Enjoy the view toward Willis, it's not like this very often.
As I'm staying down south for another year the BAS doctors decided it was necessary for me to take a break. Partly to go and see a dentist again, after last years trip, and partly to stop me going mad. I wasn't sure what sort of break they had in mind; a while on South Georgia or the Falklands? Turns out I'm heading all the way back home.

I'm obviously looking forward to seeing friends and family, catching up on things I've missed like live music and sport, and non-stop eating of fresh food. I am sad to be leaving Bird Island, especially at such an exciting stage in the breeding season – the first Gentoo chicks were born two days before I left, Wandering Albatross are courting and Fur Seal puppies are starting to cover the beach – but I'll be back before everything departs. I've been spending the last week or so racing round to get as much done as possible and showing the others how to carry out bits of monitoring I'm leaving with them.

Gentoo penguin with fat little chick.
Giant Petrel chick enjoying some sunshine from underneath its mum.
Wandering Albatross pair cuddling up. 
Fur seal puppy chewing on its own flipper while cuddling up to its mother.

As might be expected it's not an easy, short trip. I was picked up by the the fisheries patrol vessel Pharos a few days ago and spent a few days lying in my bunk feeling seasick before we pulled in to King Edward Point.

More to come soon.

Jerry

Saturday 9 November 2013

Last days of solitude.

With about a week to go until the new staff arrive on Bird Island I thought I'd try and squeeze in a quick blog while our internet isn't too busy. With first call imminent we've been rushing round cleaning and tidying, making space for deliveries and packing up waste and recycling to go off. Rooms and kit have been prepared so the incoming guys can get straight up to speed and we're enjoying the last few days of just the four of us. Craig will have a two-day changeover with the new technician and then head off down to Rothera, so this really is time to enjoy on the island.

Typically this business coincides with my busiest few weeks of the whole year, although I have now managed to get a bit of breathing space. In the last week I have finished off the nesting count of Gentoo penguins – two or more of us have been out to all the different colonies and counted the number of active nests, that is those containing penguins sitting on eggs. There's some small sections which are quite simple, and some areas of several hundred where we've had to agree on imaginary bisecting lines to split them into more manageable chunks. Then repeatedly count the nests within until we agree on a figure.

Wading through mud and crap to count Gentoos at Square Pond.

The other penguins, the Macaronis, are back in full force and can be heard all over that side of the island, arguing away over nesting territories. We've been weighing individuals as they come ashore, a simple test of how well they've been feeding over the winter.

Sleek-looking Macaroni Penguin, fresh from the sea.

Observations being made by both parties.

Standard Bird Island weather - a million shades of grey with penguins as far as you can see.

My work with the Giant Petrels continues. The Northerns have all laid and the Southerns, who operate about a month behind them, are in the middle of doing so. I've met a few calm old birds who were ringed as chicks before I was born, which is always a little humbling.

There's two of these rare white-morph Southern Giant Petrels in my study area of around 140 pairs.

A more normal plumaged pair of Southern Giant Petrels with the female sitting proudly in her mossy nest.

Many of the smaller petrels have also started returning and I've started checking their burrows, looking for individuals who have been carrying tiny geolocator devices over the winter. These have been tracking the birds movements and will help identify key feeding areas, hopefully leading to greater protection for them.

While most White-chinned Petrels land and head straight for a burrow, this one sat up on the tussoc, calling away.

Retrieving a GLS from a returning White-chinned Petrel while trying to avoid it's ripping beak and tearing claws (Craig's photo).

Blue-eyed Shags are starting to build their nests so I've started keeping an eye on the small colony near base.

Very smart looking Blue-eyed Shag. Like shags in the UK that crest is only prominent at the beginning of the breeding season.

We've all been out helping Steph with some albatross surveys. First up was the ten-year census of the Grey-heads, which took us all over the island counting some huge and some tiny colonies of these beautiful birds. Soon we'll have to repeat our rounds of the areas counting the far more numerous Black-brows and the much rarer Light-mantled Sooties.

Black-browed Albatross colony on one of the more remote 

The Wandering Albatross chicks are close to fledging, with the best developed individuals now carrying very few downy chick feathers. I gave Steph a hand finishing off the ringing of them, barring a few left for the new albatross assistant.

Will this be the last time this Wandering Albatross family all see each other together?

The beaches are quickly becoming dangerous places to go as the male fur seals haul their way up and pick a spot where they will try and get a harem of females together. It's still early so there's been no fighting yet, just a few growls. The majority of the big guys are just sleeping, well aware that there are hard times coming up with a few scraps and little time for napping or feeding. Over on Landing Beach the two elephant seal pups are enjoying each others company as their mums head out to sea.

The younger Elephant Seal pup enthusiastically shouting in his neighbours ear.


Jerry.