Southern Royal Happy Hour at Campbell Island, 3:30pm

Our ship is dwarfed by the magnitude of Perseverance Harbour.

I'm so envious of the researchers I met who are studying the several albatross species nesting on Campbell Island. This couple was putting on a great show for all of us, overlooking Northeast Harbour.

Geared up! That's my Canon 60D with an EF 70-300mm f/4-5.6L lens (heavy but worth it), and tucked into each side under my jacket pockets are my Leica binoculars and my Canon EOS Rebel T3 with an 18-55mm lens. And a dry bag on my back with more warm clothes and rain gear.

We had the better part of a day ashore on Campbell Island after our run with the heavy swell at 11 knots for 34 hours. We approached our anchorage for the day through Perseverance Harbour, the name suggesting the key characteristic early explorers of the Southern Ocean shared. We began the day with a Zodiac cruise to Tucker and Garden Coves, searching successfully for the endemic Campbell Island Flightless Teal and the Campbell Island Shag. Since neither of these species goes far from the island (with the teal always within a quick scurry/swim of land), they differ modestly from the teal and shags on other subantarctic islands so the trip checklist quickly filled with each island’s version of not only teal and shag, but also pipit, tomtit, penguin, parakeet, etc. Even for the species that can fly from island to island with ease, such as the albatrosses, petrels, storm-petrels, and prions, each species tends to breed on a specific island or set of islands.

Our ship anchored near the base of Beeman Hill at the head of Perseverance Harbour on Campbell Island. We walked on the duckboard (boardwalk) up the ridge to the north of Beeman Hill and west of Mt Lyall, continuing west from there to the “view” from the west coast cliffs. Although others who went straight for the view actually had one, I only saw fog and nearly got blown away by the wind at the top of the western cliffs. Time to retreat quickly back to the megaherbs and albatrosses. 
Map: Subantarctic New Zealand, A Rare Heritage by Neville Peat, copyright 2003 Department of Conservation Te Papa Atawhai.

Megaherbs in bloom near the top of the western cliffs in heavy fog.

Lovely lichen in the mini-forest near the scientific station. On our way up the narrow path, this is about the spot where  a male New Zealand Fur Seal decided we were intruding and he'd have none of it. Our guide Adam valiantly fenced with him for awhile with a rotten stick he found by the trail, keeping the fur seal at bay just long enough for the string of 30+ people to get by safely. Normally they're all bluff and no bite but I wasn't convinced that was the case with this guy so I was relieved when we didn't see him on the way down (others greeted us closer to shore but we had space to give them a wide berth). 

Campbell Island is the breeding site of the endemic Campbell Island Albatross, differing from the similar Black-browed Albatross by having a yellow iris instead of a black iris. Having a camera with a zoom lens was essential for me to identify some species in flight as is evident in several of these pictures.

Note the yellow iris of the Campbell Island Albatross.

I grabbed this picture from my Falklands Island post last year - these are Black-browed Albatrosses (which were also present on our trip but I didn't get a picture of one!). Note the dark iris but otherwise similar appearance to the Campbell Island Albatross. 

This Broad-billed Prion (flying) has a larger bill than the slim-billed Antarctic Prion below. The floating bird is a juvenile Southern Bullers Albatross, photographed between the Bounty Islands and Chatham Islands.

This is an Antarctic Prion, observed as we neared Macquarie Island. 

The highlight of our Campbell Island trip was a walk up to a Southern Royal Albatross colony. The expedition leader timed our walk for happy hour – it turns out albatrosses have about the same happy hour schedule as I do back in Portland (which goes something like this: "How early can you – friend – get done with work? 3:30? Por Que No? or Henry’s. 4:00? Oba. 4:30? Blue Hour or Clarklewis. 5:00? Nuestra Cocina or Nostrana)." Guess who’s missing happy hour with her friends.

The albatross’ version of happy hour involves more dancing and less tapas and tequila than my version, but we both share a fondness for gabbing with occasional funny gestures to accentuate our stories.

This male Southern Royal Albatross was moving pretty quickly to go visit with his friend.  The duckboard trail kept the rest of us from getting soggy feet or twisting ankles on our hike.

His display impressed her. And me. And all of the paparazzi lined up on the trail watching.

Kiss please!

I reluctantly started walking back to the ship, wanting happy hour with the Royals to extend in to the wee hours, but alas, dusk was spent cruising through peaceful and magical Perseverance Harbour. I watched the islands fade away in the distance as darkness fell, reflecting on the entertaining times I had with my shipmates on the trail as we experienced this incredibly special place. 

Link to YouTube Video of the Two Royals Pictured Above Flirting

Link to YouTube Video of Four Albatrosses Displaying and Bill Clicking

Macquarie Island, Australia 54°S

King Penguin grooming at Sandy Bay

Royal Penguin looking out to sea

Royal Penguin with chick in a large colony at Sandy Bay

The long coastline began to take shape as we approached in the waning light and waxing fog. I pressed my binoculars hard to my eye sockets trying to determine if all those little white specks I thought I saw were actually hundreds of thousands of King Penguins or just cobbles forming a long, wide beach. When I was able to focus on three large rust-colored tanks, I knew I was staring at a shoreline packed with penguins.

A portion of the King Penguin colony at Lusitania Bay, viewed through the fog. Note three rusting digesters at right.

In the early 1900s, people killed penguins by the thousands per day, collecting them to extract oil in the digester tanks eerily still among them. Seals were also decimated until it both became economically unsustainable (they were nearly all gone) and Antarctic explorers, led by Douglas Mawson, decried the slaughter. Even though the penguins went through a severe bottleneck, a recent study of Macquarie’s King Penguins revealed that their genetic diversity is similar to the genetic diversity found in 1000-year-old King Penguin fossils on the island.

This Brown Skua came right up to me when I sat down to try to draw the interest of some nearby penguins. Within seconds, the skua was tugging at my raingear, actively picking at my boots, and really trying to break my artificial "skin" to get some food. After a couple of pals joined in, they gave up on me and started pulling the zippers on a shipmate's daypack. Tenacious. Click here for a video.

Time for a stretch. This penguin appears to have a healed wound near its left ear.

The island’s seabirds have also survived our less-direct methods of killing them with introduced predators (rats, mice, weka, cats) and habitat-altering rabbits. All of these introduced animals have now been removed from the island using a combination of hunting, viruses (targeting rabbits) and poisoned bait, dropped from helicopters. According to this month’s newsletter, only 13 rabbits remain on the island – everything else has been successfully eradicated.

We saw a few of the dogs used to track the remaining rabbits: all energy and smiles despite the cold wind and rain. Another team of rodent-detecting dogs is scheduled to check the island in the coming months for any surviving mice or rats. The dogs are specially trained so they can run free (under voice and whistle command), sniffing every possible hiding place. This is a big job on an island 34km long and 5km wide. The dog training video shows how valuable these dogs are – they don’t chase the birds, so the fearless wildlife can just look at the dogs like they look at us, inquisitively, with a touch of caution.

Molting King Penguins. After their chicks fledge, adults put on fat to get them through several weeks ashore [no eating] while they molt. New feathers push out the old feathers, which have a shaggy coat appearance. Note all of the feathers on the ground, especially at left.

King Penguin

King Penguin checking its egg

King Penguin chicks at Sandy Bay

 Because Macquarie is all by itself, surrounded by vast expanses of ocean, it’s not surprising that the conditions are relatively consistent across the year with the main variation being day length and temperature. The mean monthly days of precipitation range from 24 in February to 28 in May. And I thought Portland was gray and rainy. For comparison, Portland ranges from 4 (July) to 19 (December) mean monthly days of precipitation. I am very surprised that the average annual precipitation for Macquarie (38 in) is the same as Portland (37 in) and Seattle (38 in).

Gotta get that itch! Elephant Seal at Sandy Bay.

After a wet, windy, wonderful morning spent with thousands of King Penguins, Royal Penguins, and Elephant Seals at Sandy Bay, we cruised up to Buckles Bay to see the Australian Antarctic Program Station, situated on a narrow isthmus at the northern end of the island. Expeditioners (scientists, pest eradication specialists, station staff) live here all year, although the summer population of 30+ dwindles to half as many people in the winter. The station is only stocked once per year, in March or April, by a ship with a helicopter to unload tons of supplies. The tourist ships return in summer, affording an opportunity to start or end a long shift. Two people with the Pest Eradication Team recently left. They have been working on Macquarie since April 2011. That’s dedication.

 

Because it was raining, I only had my Sony Action Cam for wide-angle video (waterproof housing for the camera and for these elephant seals!). During pupping season in October, apparently elephant seals are everywhere along the roads and paths, not just shacking up to molt, as these were. 

We were only at the station for a short while, but a fellow American and I tucked right into the printed newspapers over tea and freshly baked scones with jam and whipped cream. We were there on December 28, right before the fiscal cliff – remember that?! I guess it’s more like a slip ‘n slide than a cliff. With no internet or email or phone service on the ship (OK, there was, but for too steep a price to pay), it was nice just to catch up during the only opportunity on our three-week-trip.  

After the cozy respite from the wind and rain, we geared up in the mud room (full raingear and gum boots over quite a few layers) and walked along the west coast (tens of meters from the east coast), getting decent looks at our 4^th species of penguin on the island, Southern Rockhopper Penguin. [The 3^rd species seen was Gentoo Penguin, nesting right among the station buildings]. One of the Expeditioners told me about the Macquarie version of the Surf Iron Man (after I mentioned watching on TV the Surf Iron Man competition held in the extreme heat of Newcastle, AUS). On the winter solstice (June 21), the Macca crew swim in the waters off the west coast, run over to the east coast for a swim (populated by many seals), then back to the hot tub. Brrr.

The wild west coast. Sea stacks like these, shaped by the waves, are also high up on the plateau of the island, evidence of the uplift of the island from the sea. Macquarie is not only a World Heritage site because of its wildlife, but because of its status as the only place where mid-oceanic crustal rocks, formed on the sea floor, are visible above sea. Unfortunately we didn't have time to walk to the pillow lava rocks formed by rapidly-cooling lava as magma came up between diverging tectonic plates.
Nor time to see banded troctolites.

I found this chart to be very helpful. Not only does it list all of the species commonly found at Macquarie, but seeing when and how they spend their time there is also informative. Copyright Department of Primary Industries, Parks, Water and Environment, Tasmania, 2012, Macquarie Island booklet.

 

Enderby Island in the Auckland Islands

Yellow-eyed Penguin

Lovely Forest

Auckland Island Flightless Teal

Northern Giant Petrel

So colorful. A little bit beyond this spot I blew the opportunity to take a close-up photo of a nesting Southern Royal Albatross right next to the boardwalk. Minimizing disturbance as requested and luckily I had more opportunities to photograph nesting Royals at Campbell Island, but such a beautiful scene here with the vegetation. Imagine.

Light-mantled Sooty Albatross coming in for a landing near its nest on the North Shore cliffs of Enderby.

Wow, what a place! Enderby Island is one of the true gems of this trip. One of our guides said this is his favorite stop on the tour. We were greeted by New Zealand Fur Seals and the quite rare Hooker’s (or New Zealand) Sea Lion as we landed. Both species are in the family Otariidae, named for their external ear pinnae. They are further identified by their ability to rotate all four legs under them to enable them to walk/gallop, unlike true seals such as elephant seals, which blubber along by undulating their bodies. We switched out of gum boots and into hiking boots for our “4-mile” hike around the western part of the island. (8+ miles on the Fitbit pedometer I always wear).

The vegetation on Enderby rivals the birdlife, making everywhere you look, all the time, interesting and beautiful (except when struggling a bit through occasional stretches of tussock mounds, an unstable surface that forced me to look down at my feet). I hadn’t heard the term megaherbs before this trip. Giant parsley? Kind of, actually!  The flowers, leaves, and area covered were all mega.

When the expedition leader, Rodney Russ, drew one of his detailed maps on the whiteboard for our pre-landing briefing, he indicated where we would see each key species: Yellow-eyed Penguin, Southern Royal Albatross, Light-mantled Sooty Albatross, Auckland Island Shag, Auckland Island Flightless Teal, Subantarctic Snipe, etc. I was impressed but not surprised by his confidence that we’d get good looks at each of those nesting species. But when he put New Zealand Falcon on the map in two locations, with a fairly high degree of confidence we’d see them, I was skeptical. You can imagine how happily surprised I was when, while walking by the 2^nd location on his map, I watched a falcon fly towards me, hover above, then fly off into the mist. Another life bird. NBD. 

Megaherbs! We were lucky to be there when most plants were in flower.

Auckland Island Pipit - I love these little guys! They were always nearby and fearless.

Auckland Island Banded Dotterel

Again following directions to move off and not scare the bird anymore once I saw it so here's my awesome picture of....you guessed it, the Subantarctic Snipe. (Lower right, that's its striped back and tail ducking behind the tall brown stems). The good news (in addition to seeing it) is that they are getting more common now that predators have been removed from the island, as is true of all the places we visited. It only took a short walk through the knee-high vegetation to flush it (and I really didn't want to disturb it any more than we already had).

It's harvest time for the Auckland Island Shag.

This looks like a nice load - time to jump off the cliff with it....

...and pile on the vegetation to keep eggs/chicks warm and dry.

I'm glad it wasn't raining (much) because the blond fur of the female Hooker's Sea Lions was glistening.

A male and his harem. I saw a pup shortly after birth and a few getting close to being trampled by males as they roared towards other males infringing on their territory. One pup carcass indicated someone didn't make it but they seemed pretty adept at getting to a safe spot in the nick of time.

Solo around-the-world Swiss skipper Bernard Stamm was disqualified from the race because he used our ship as a mooring at Enderby Island when his anchor dragged while he was repairing his hydro generators. The final decision report is disappointing because he was nearly halfway finished and DSQ on two technicalities that didn't affect his position or ability to complete the race. He kept going while the appeal was lodged and eventually had to take on fuel just beyond Cape Horn when he officially retired but still kept sailing towards the finish line (also the starting point) at Les Sables d'Olonne, France. As I write this, the leaders have just passed the equator in the Atlantic, 3000nm to go, and 68 days into the race. I can only imagine the determination, endurance, intelligence, and skill these skippers possess to be able compete in this race.

 

The Snares

Snares Crested Penguin

Snares Crested Penguin

Snares Crested Penguin

Our first stop delivered several “only here” species and got everyone eager to see more (and to land – no landings allowed at The Snares though). The Snares Crested Penguin was the highlight, with lovely scenery visible by Zodiac cruising, including an unexpected pass through a tunnel and into a cave. The Snares Island Tomtit and Snares Island Fernbird were also easily spotted multiple times from the Zodiac, most impressive given how difficult it was for me to finally track down Fernbirds on the South Island – they don’t like to fly much – just little pathetic efforts if that.

Beautiful scenery in The Snares

New Zealand Fur Seal

At Sea

Southern Royal Albatross

Our first stop after departing from Bluff at the southern tip of the South Island was The Snares. First we had to get through Foveaux Strait, a swell-filled patch of sea separating Stewart Island from the mainland. On my November trip to Stewart Island, I nearly got sick on the one hour ferry ride, which is on a fast and stable catamaran, because the waves were so big, driven by high winds, tides, and enhanced by shallow waters.

I was already worried about how I would fare on this three-week trip (December 22-January 8). The Spirit of Enderby / Professor Khromov was built as a research vessel and converted to a passenger ship, much like the Ortelius I traveled on last year (same shipyard, similar layout, but twice as many passengers on the larger Ortelius). They are both icebreakers and as such, the bottom is rounded so it pops out of the ice should it be frozen in, instead of becoming trapped with a (stabilizing) keel. The Professor Khromov is on its way to the Ross Sea right now so this is a useful/critical feature for that trip. For our trip however, we didn’t see any ice.

Light-mantled Sooty Albatross

Professor Khromov, aka The Spirit of Enderby, anchored in protected Tagua Bay, Auckland Island while we checked out the former coastwatch station (or waited on the rocky beach futilely for a Yellow-crowned Parakeet to show up in my case)

The prevailing winds in the Southern Ocean are from west to east so we had a significant swell off our beam for most of the trip. We each tried to capture the effect in videos and pictures but I didn’t get the key video that would’ve done it justice – that of me sliding back and forth (about 8”) on my mattress in my bunk (set width-wise which is nice if you’re heading into the swell, not so nice in this situation). With the larger swells that we experienced on the southbound trip, I would alternate between using my legs/feet as shock-absorbers and my head, braced with hands overhead on big ones, banging into the big life preserver I used as a cushion between me and the desk. More than once my roommate Madeleine and I would just tumble into laughing fits at the ridiculousness of the situation and the futility of trying to do anything about it.

Going up to the bridge when we tilted 35-45° didn’t really make me feel much better because watching across to the other side’s windows, I saw the sky alternate with the sea right next to us. The horizon was in there but only for a moment on each swing. Again, trying to counterbalance constantly, while looking through binoculars or a camera, was comical/hopeless. Meals were also a source of laughter if you were in the mood, swinging back and forth, quickly grabbing silverware or glasses as they broke free of the plate or the non-skid rubber table surface. Our two servers and two cooks were amazing. I have no idea how they manage their jobs, walking with both hands full of multiple plates and maintaining a professional demeanor while the rest of us are just holding on and trying to finish eating quickly so we can get back to the relative security of our bunks.

I expected the seas to be rougher on this trip than last year’s trip because we didn’t have the protection of South Georgia or the calm waters around the Antarctic Peninsula, just open water with a very long fetch and high winds to whip up sizeable swells. The winds were so high on our first attempt at reaching Macquarie Island that we had to turn back after 20km to spend a quiet night in the Auckland Islands while waiting for the storm to pass. That’s the only leg I got sick on and after doubling up on medication, and somewhat calmer seas the next day, I managed to keep it together for the next attempt to reach Macquarie.

From a seabirder’s perspective, wild, windy days are the best because seabirds are adapted for these conditions. They don’t fly on calm days – the wind provides their airspeed essentially. We saw many great seabirds on our windiest days. I just didn’t get many great photos of them. 

Antipodean Wandering Albatross

White-headed Petrel

 

The Road to Invercargill

Baby tuatara at the museum in Invercargill.

The trip to Invercargill, the departure point for this trip, mirrors my trip to Ushuaia last year, the departure point for my other Subantarctic/Anatarctic trip (see previous blog entries). As in the previous effort, fairly substantial delays were involved due to my originating plane’s engine troubles. Last time I watched three mechanics crawl into the jet cowling as we sat in the plane at the gate. Yup, missed that connection.

This time, we sat on the tarmac for a bit while the captain repeatedly tried to start the 2^nd engine. Back we go to see if it’s the switch or the engine. I think if she’d said it was the switch and “all aboard, here we go”, I’d be reluctant to re-board so I was relieved when she announced we should get on another flight. Yup, 14 of us missed our connection to Invercargill. As we raced to the service desk in Christchurch hoping we might be able to board a flight soon, I explained to the agent that our engine failed. The look a passenger gave me while checking-in at a nearby kiosk was priceless. I quickly explained it didn’t happen during the flight!

Two options: wait seven hours for the next flight to Invercargill, or leave (right now!) on a flight to Queenstown and take an Air NZ-provided bus to Invercargill, arriving about 5 hours earlier than the all-flight option. Yes please to the bus for several reasons: Queenstown is beautiful, the 2-hour bus ride would be pretty and more comfortable than a plane, I’d arrive in time for the getting-to-know-everyone dinner at the hotel, and the Queenstown airport has a Patagonia Chocolates shop serving the best chocolate gelato I’ve ever had (it played a starring role in my South Island trip with a store in Wanaka and free wifi). 

On our departure day, we had some time to visit the museum, where they breed tuataras (baby tuataras are precious!), and pick up a few items for the trip. I’d already stocked up on Sea Legs / Bonine and Scopolamine patches in Auckland but now I added soda crackers and ginger snaps to the stockpile of items that would hopefully keep me feeling good and looking at birds and scenery vs. ill in my cabin. 

The mandatory lifeboat drill in the lee of Stewart Island. Not seasick yet!

Port side cabin passengers in one of the two lifeboats. The 22 crew and 6 staff were not stuffed in for the drill but you get a sense of how cozy it would be with 14 more people in here.

Subantarctic Islands of New Zealand and Australia

Depth map of New Zealand. National Institute of Water and Atmospheric research, printed in Subantarctic New Zealand: A Rare Heritage, by Neville Peat, 2009, Dept. of Conservation Te Papa Atawhai.

This map in the Invercargill Museum shows nesting locations for the numerous albatross species we saw on our trip. Comparison of this map with the geological map above reveals the formation of each island group. 

During my trip to the South Island in November, I started thinking about how amazing it would be to visit the subantarctic islands of New Zealand, and Macquarie Island in Australia. I bought a book about the islands at the Dept. of Conservation office on Stewart Island, then did some web research when I returned to Auckland and discovered the only way to get there, short of conducting research or being a government employee, is to take a cruise with Heritage Expeditions.

I don’t know how long the trip for only 50 passengers had been full when I added my name to the waiting list in mid-November, but exactly a month later, and one week before departure, I got the word that a spot had opened up! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to me, and there goes that particular Vanguard account... The combination of having the time available and already being here in NZ helped me decide to just go for it. I’m glad I did.