Tag Archives: adventure travel

Icelandic Seabird Storm

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Braden here again for my second Iceland post.

Saturday, July 14^th, 2018. 9:00 a.m.

I have just finished breakfast and arrived on the bridge of the National Geographic Explorer. We are continuing our circumnavigation of Iceland, and this is our first day with some free time at sea. I have chosen to spend that time on the bridge, searching for marine mammals and possibly life birds. There are two seabirds in specific I am hoping for: Great Skua and Northern Gannet. Neither are particularly rare, but I have yet to see them.

Great Skuas, the “pirates of the seas”, will chase down other birds and steal their food. (Photo by Braden Collard)

James (Jamie) Coleman, one of the ship’s naturalists and leading bird experts, is also on the bridge, and he knows my quest. “You seen a Skua yet?” he asks me. “They’re everywhere this morning.”

“No, I’ve mostly been focusing on sleeping and eating.”

“Ah. I guess that’s also important. Anyways, keep your eyes open. We’ve also seen some White-beaked Dolphins.”

I settle into a chair, and, seeing no activity in or over the water, begin reading a large guide book titled Marine Mammals of the World.

“Is that the one by Bob Pitman?” Jamie asks.

I nod.

“He’s seen every marine mammal in the world but two, I think.”

“Has he seen a Vaquita?” I ask, knowing that the endangered porpoise’s last stand was going down in the Gulf of California.

“Yeah—he’s working with the Mexican government right now to save them.”

“Cool!”

“Oh, I’ve got a skua!” Jamie suddenly exclaims. “Flying right in front of the bow!”

I quickly raise my binoculars to see a large, dark bird with silver wing patches flying directly in front of the ship, its wingbeats heavy.

Approximately one second later, the Explorer’s captain, Aaron Woods, shouts, “Gannet! Even with the horizon—two o’clock and moving left!”

I again raise my binoculars level to the horizon. Far off, a bird that appears to be the opposite of a skua catches my eye. Its feathers are a clean white, with black tips on the wings, and its outline is sleek.

Like their southern cousins the boobies, gannets will perform spectacular vertical plunge-dives while hunting. (Photo by Braden Collard)

“How’s that?” Jamie asks, “Two lifers in the same two seconds!”

I grin. “Awesome!”

During the next couple of days, as we continue back towards Reykjavik, seabird numbers pick up. On my last full day on the ship, it all culminates in one big seabird showdown.

We have just left the island of Heimaey, the only inhabited island of the Westmann Archipelago, and the Explorer is headed for Surtsey, the new island to the south. I am on the bridge again, as is Jamie, talking about what else has been spotted. Suddenly, he looks up and spies a large, white cloud in the distance.

“Feeding frenzy!”

As our ship draws closer, I see large, straight dorsal fins rising from the water. Killer Whales!

Killer Whales, or Orcas, are actually dolphins–the largest in the world!

There are at least 30 Killer Whales, or orcas, on all sides of the boat now, feeding on whatever huge school of fish swarms below the waves. The whales aren’t the only ones feasting. A tornado of gannets has engulfed us, following the whales. At certain points, squadrons of them leave the storm to plunge-dive, torpedoing straight into the water.

Northern Fulmars, the common tubenoses here, are also in large numbers, and have attracted their rarer cousins, Manx and Sooty Shearwaters! These just remind me of how many miles seabirds have under their wings—the Manx’s have probably bred on the coast of Britain, while the Sooties could have travelled from as far as New Zealand!

Northern Fulmars are circumpolar–meaning they live all around the Arctic Ocean. (Photo by Braden Collard)

The Duck Capital of Europe

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Braden here.

Lake Myvatn, Iceland, is the Waterfowl Capital of Europe, and maybe the world. Its rich wetlands and nutrient waters provide habitat for more than 15 breeding species of ducks, more than anywhere else on the continent (well, the European Continent. Technically Iceland is on two continental plates, but whatever).

Our tour was not for the waterfowl, however. Myvatn is also famous for its geology—the place is a geologist’s playground. We had just come from Godafoss, the waterfall of the gods, where I’d scored a family of 13 Rock Ptarmigans along with the stunning landscape.

We pulled up at our first and only stop close to the lake. This area was known for its pseudocraters, or fake craters, created by lava running over areas of water. To be honest, though, the “famous” craters were not much to look at. They were just dips in the ground, surrounded by farmland. The bird numbers, however, were incredible.

When I first glimpsed the lake, I found myself staring at hundreds, possibly thousands, of white speckles scattered around the shorelines: Whooper Swans! In mid-summer, apparently, these swans congregated in large numbers in sheltered areas of freshwater, and Myvatn was perfect! Huge rafts of ducks also decorated the surface—closer looks told me that these were mostly Tufted Duck, Eurasian Wigeon, and Greater Scaup, the males transforming into their drab summer or “eclipse” plumages.

Pairs of Whooper Swans dominated the lake, more swans than I’d seen anywhere else at one time. (Photo by Braden Collard)

And another, less obvious species was on the lake in numbers—Red-necked Phalaropes! These tiny shorebirds were barely half the size of the nearest duck, and spun in rapid circles to stir up food from the bottom.

This farmland was not a desert of biodiversity like some—it also had a great number of birds around. In the hedge rows, Common Snipe hid with their newborn young, hoping to avoid their human, camera-carrying “predators.”. Alas, they did not succeed—I got great shots!

The short grass of the fields was a shorebird and songbird’s feast—Common Redshanks, Dunlins, Red-necked Phalaropes, Whimbrels, Redwings, White Wagtails, Meadow Pipits and Snow Buntings nibbled at the seeds.

Red-necked Phalaropes are one of the few species of birds in which females are brighter than males. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Along one side of the trail, I suddenly heard a haunting, ghostly call echo across the lake—a Common Loon! Known as the “Great Northern Diver” to the Brits, a pair and baby sat amidst a flock of swans, about 100 meters offshore. I spotted another prize, too—Horned (“Slovenian”) Grebes, much closer to shore. They were another reason European birders loved Lake Myvatn, as they were another specialty of the region. Other Iceland-exclusive birds occurring at Myvatn were Harlequin Ducks (which I did not see) and Barrow’s Goldeneye (which I did). However, the loons, grebes and ducks all occurred much more commonly in the United States, so I was more excited about what the Europeans would consider “common” birds—the snipe, redwings, wagtails, phalaropes, etc.

This baby snipe was less than a foot off of the trail! (Photo by Braden Collard)

Amazon Birding Bonanza at Sani Lodge

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Braden here.

The majority of our first week in South America was spent in Ecuador’s portion of the Amazon. It was May, 2017, and we were staying at a place known as Sani Lodge, a resort run by the Yasuni people. The lodge was located about a half mile from the Río Napo, a large tributary of the Amazon River, nestled on a small lagoon. The only way to reach the lodge was by a combination of motorboating, canoeing and hiking.

Hoatzins, an Amazon version of a crazy turkey, provided plenty of entertainment around Sani Lodge. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Bird-wise, I was super excited about the Amazon—it hosted more species than all of the ABA area! As we approached Sani Lodge, though, we saw and heard few birds. Our guide, Danny, pointed out flocks of oropendolas flashing through the canopy or the echoing call of a lone tinamou, but birding was tough as we hiked to our canoe dock, and my expectations slowly diminished. I figured there were lots of birds here, but almost all of them would be difficult to see through the brush. The lodge itself proved my idea wrong, however.

As we canoed up to the dock, our guide began pointing out a broad array of activity—White-winged Swallows flying low over the lagoon, Black-capped Donacobiuses meowing from the marsh, and “stinky turkeys”, or Hoatzins, weighing down branches and screaming about it. As we walked up to the open-air lounge, Danny pointed out two Tropical Screech-Owls roosting in a palm tree next to the trail. In the bar, a chicken-like bird picked crumbs off the floor. Danny introduced us to Apasha the Gray-winged Trumpeter. An Australian birder nearby, the only other tourist in the lounge, stressed that Apasha was “completely wild,” and therefore “completely countable” on ebird. Apasha had shown up a few years ago and just stuck around. In fact, my sister soon discovered that Apasha enjoyed picking insects off of peoples’ heads.

Got critters in your hair? A Gray-winged Trumpeter may be just the ticket! (Photo by Sneed B. Collard III)

Feeders were set up next to the bar, snagging my attention from the manager, who was giving us a presentation on the expectations of the lodge. Silver-beaked and Masked Crimson Tanagers decorated the fruit feeders, while White-eared Jacamars and Scarlet-crowned Barbets watched from nearby.

Masked Crimson Tanagers were some of the most spectacular “feeder birds” at the lodge. (Photo by Braden Collard)

The lodge grounds were small and mostly unmanicured, as the Yasuni wanted to be as eco-friendly as possible. This also meant that the electricity generator ran only twelve hours a day, around mealtimes.

One day, we went for a canoe ride around the lagoon. The story behind the lagoon was that it was a sanctuary for endangered Yellow-spotted Turtles and Black Caimans, both of which we saw. In fact, we released four baby turtles into the lagoon, named Tortugi, Speckles, Rick Turtle and Terminator. As we canoed around, we all suddenly heard drumming. As we looked into the trees nearby, we glimpsed a brilliant-yellow woodpecker—one Danny said was the rare Cream-colored!

One of the most thrilling birds we saw around Sani Lodge, this Cream-colored Woodpecker even made it into my dad’s book, Woodpeckers: Drilling Holes and Bagging Bugs. (Photo by Braden Collard)

My expectations were filled, but more was to come…