A visitor, probably from a glacier or ice shelf in Greenland, makes its way south….to oblivion.
It was a long day yesterday. The weather was much worse than the forecast. The storm started during the night and carried through to the early afternoon: NW winds at 35-40 knots and waves up to 20 feet. We were headed northwest into the teeth of the wind and waves, toward the start of the “Makkovik Bay Line” – a transect that we follow from about 70 miles out in to the Labrador coast and along which the oceanographic staff take a host of water data. But, due to the storm, our speed was reduced to between just 2-3 knots so the boat (and its inhabitants) wouldn’t take too bad a pounding.
Nasty weather as seen from my perch – difficult to see seabirds, already hidden by waves, through windows streaming with salt spray
Punching into a 20-foot wave throws spray all over the bridge.
Under 4 knots it’s not really worth my while to take seabird counts using the strict protocol that is called for. So between bouts of reading I had a good chance to watch any birds that were around. You’ve got to hand it to Northern Fulmars. Nothing seems to throw them off. In fact, they seemed to almost enjoy the conditions: skirting the tops of the waves, riding the updrafts and then swooping up into the air in a big loop do loop before continuing on in their quest for something to eat. The thing that really got me was how they could glide so effortlessly UPWIND into a gale. But they were doing it….all around the boat.
Northern Fulmars. Except for a brief sojourn on land to breed, these hardy birds spend all their lives far out at sea, no matter the weather.
I have observed fulmars at colonies in the high Arctic, on Devon Island in Canada and on Svalbard Island in Norway. The parents take turns caring for the single egg or young, in a “nest” (actually just a shelf, maybe with the odd stone or two) on a steep cliff. While one sits, the other goes off to search for food and may take 24 hours or more before returning. Satellite studies in Canada have shown that the foraging birds may go as much 500 km away from the nest in their search. These birds I was seeing around the boat likely nest on cliffs along the Labrador (or Newfoundland) coast – the 75 miles we were out wouldn’t be a big deal to them.
In the late afternoon the wind and then waves dropped quickly and by 7:00 PM it was actually quite pleasant. For about half an hour I observed a passage of Red Phalaropes. In total I counted at least 63 in groups ranging from 2 to 13 birds; all were headed S or SW. These colourful little birds nest in the Arctic but spend most of their lives at sea, bobbing around like corksm feasting on plankton and arthropods. Interestingly, most of the birds I count are low to the water. Most of the phalaropes were flying high – higher than the bridge (my eye is about 40 feet above sea level)- so I wonder if I missed some as they passed over. Anyway, for them the breeding season is done and they’re on their way south.
Rick