Xmas / New Year lull

Toward the end of December there's a strange tradition on Bird Island of celebrating the birth of a 2,000 year old hippy. I can't say I understand it but it's good fun.

Late afternoon on Christmas Eve we took mince pies and mulled wine over to the seal team on their Special Study Beach (SSB) and sat there enjoying the festive spirit while watching the seals below us.

On Christmas Day itself I was out with Ruth, more searching for petrels and prions so more crawling about amongst the tussock grass with arms down burrows. Returning in time for a good wash and donning smart clothes, but a bit too late to help out in the kitchen, I was very ready for the huge meal we'd all chipped in with (but Tamsin and Craig should take the credit for the majority of the work done on the day). As well as turkey, ham, nut roast, potatoes, yorkshires, stuffing, other veg and loads of wine we had a massive stack of cakes and puddings, several of which are still around a full five days later!

The meal was excellent and followed by an increasingly raucous game of Balderdash, with only a break for washing up and then to watch the colourful sunset at about half eleven. We then stuck loud music on and danced like idiots until about five in the morning.

I opened a few presents throughout the day - a few chocolate treats, a harmonica with which to annoy the others and a scrapbook full of embarrassing pictures of me that I unrealisingly opened in front of everyone else. Thanks Mum.

The next day I was out again on a Geep and Skua round, battling the effects of a late night as well as a ferocious, cold wind. Since then I've been out over various places in the island marking new Wandering Albatross nests. This is a big job that everyone is getting involved in, a great excuse to head to new places and I got to ring my first Wanderer yesterday - quite a difference from the Wrens and Willow Warblers I got used to on Skokholm.

When it's wet and cold outside, and warm and dry in, the puppies will gravitate toward the kitchen. If the door is left open they'll even start to invade.

 Take one for the Christmas card. Although this one has more seals in it we vainly decided it didn't show us clear enough.

 Sitting down for Christmas meal, all scrubbed and smart.

 Christmas cake number one (of about five). The big seal is 3D, raising itself up, and I should explain that 'oof choof' is their all-purpose call.

Another Christmas cake, this one Craig, Steph and Jen's construction of a pair of ginerbread houses.

Christmas Eve on SSB - almost the full team as Steph was back in the kitchen making dinner. (Tamsin's photo).

Jerry.

Merry Christmas Y'all

Just a quick one to wish everyone a merry Christmas and happy new year.

I woke this morning to a blizzard. As you can see, that died away, but the very cold wind remains. I was out earlier reaching down burrows, looking for petrels and prions on which to deploy GLS trackers. With these we'll find out more about where these birds feed at which times of the year - vital information if you're trying to help save them.

People are working hard, not just on mapping the newly egg-laying albatrosses and counting all the newly-born seal puppies, but in the kitchen too. I can tell tomorrow's meal is going to be legendary.

Hope everyone out there has a good a time as I suspect I will.

Gentoo chicks.

With a few days or nice, sunny weather on Bird Island we've been trying to cram in as much outdoor work as possible. In particular plotting all the Brown Skua nests. This has involved trekking backward and forward over every patch of the island, marking nest sites with a GPS. The skuas look very much like Scottish Bonxies, but in general they don't dive bomb you so much. Instead they will sit tight on the nest shrieking.

Like the searching for shag colonies, this has been a good excuse to explore more bits of the island. Yesterday I volunteered to walk the high level route up near where the grass becomes moss banks then scree. There were a few snow patches but it was too soft to sledge down properly. Today has been sunny enough I've been out for the first time in shorts with no salapets over the top.

The season seems well underway, with Wanderers joining the other albatrosses on eggs, Gentoo chicks getting big enough to run around in pursuit of their parents and Fur Seal puppies being left on the beach to form little gangs as their mothers go off to sea to feed.

As someone who generally dislikes the run-up to Christmas it's been great having so much work on and such great weather to concentrate on, but I did help decorate our tree (or decorate one small patch of it with all the baubles I could find).

Jen with our Christmas tree.

 Gentoo Penguin feeding chick.

 Fat, self-satisfied Gentoo chick.

Smart King Penguin that had wandered up the wrong beach.

Jerry.

more photos at blipfoto.com/JerryATG

Apologies to anyone annoyed at how many times I posted the last blog. It's a fault with using blogger on very little internet.

Shags and 'bergs.

A really good day today as we went to explore the east side of the island – the far less studied side and with being so busy elsewhere I'd not had a chance to get over. We had our legitimate reasons though – I'm starting to map the Blue-eyed Shag colonies and Tamsin needed to check on the rat bait boxes (we have to be constantly vigilant about the possible presence of rats as they could totally devastate the bird life if they ever found a way over). So Ruth agreed to take us on an expedition to Farewell Point.

Whereas most of the walking on Bird Island is through very high Tussock Grass, on the way out we went quite high so were able to use the more mountainous tracks.

Toward the east point it started to snow, heavily. By this point we were looking for Shag colonies, and looking through binoculars was like peering up close at a snow globe. But the weather here is predictable in it's inconsistency and shortly afterwards the clouds moved over and we were able to climb onto the ridge and eat our lunch in glorious sunshine.

From up there we saw the most exciting thing of the day; icebergs! Two of them basically on the horizon but still looking huge, square, bright white things. Also out there was the JCR, the ship we'd come down on. It was completing it's return journey and science cruise after dropping others off at Signy.

The sun held as we returned closer to the coast where the walking was harder, like most of the rest of the island. Thankfully there were plenty of spots to rest and take photos of penguins and seals. The distance from us to South Georgia mainland looked minimal – 100m or so of clear blue water. Of course the water is freezing cold and with a powerful tide. Then if you wanted to get to civilization as it is on South Georgia it's another 50 miles over some huge, barely touched mountains.

So I think I'll stay here.

Jerry.

 Blue-eyed Shag; one of those of that which we was trying to see.

 After the brief blizzard the clouds lifting to give us ghostly views of South Georgia.

 A short time and a short climb and we're counting Shags from the ridge.

 That massive white thing on the horizon is an iceberg. Even with a zoom lens it would be tiny but with a 16mm it's just a collection of pixels.

Grey-headed Albatross in front of Middle Mac (more Macaroni Penguins than at Little Mac, but not as many as at Big Mac).

 Tamsin and Ruth heading out along a well-established path across the scree. So much easier than through the tussocks.

Gentoo Penguins with some chicks almost big enough to be left alone. South Georgia looking imposing again in the background.

Looking back on Mountain Cwm and South Georgia.

More photos here.

Giant Petrels

I finished my last blog with us just arriving. So much has happened since then it would take me a few days to write it all up, but in summary:

We spent two long, hard days unloading all our supplies from the JCR. This ranged from food (all fresh veg to be checked for damage and invasive insects) to fuel (180 drums) to more general science kit, clothing, household objects (24 wine glasses). The biggest and most challenging bit was a load of big wooden timbers and three huge bulk fuel tanks that had to be landed directly onto the beach. It was a testing time but so many people put in hard shifts that it passed without too much incident. Since then we've been straight into work; trailing the winterers around, hoping some of their vast knowledge will rub off on us.

Most of my work thus far has been with the Giant Petrels, known here as Geeps. It's getting toward the end of their egg-laying period but we still need to do daily rounds to check for any new nests, any failures and trying to get the ring number of every breeding adult in the study area. Like most of the work here, this is a long-term monitoring project that has been going on for decades, looking at changing population dynamics.

 Northern Giant Petrel with chick.

The Geeps are really charismatic birds. Generally very calm when you're near them, they're the vultures of the area and can be quite brutal when you witness them ripping apart a dead seal or penguin.

 Giant Petrel in the snow, looking through rare clear skies to Willis Island

Going out doing the Geep round has allowed me to see a good chunk of the island in a whole variety of weather conditions, often within a few hours. It also leads me past several pairs of Wandering Albatross that are starting their amazing courtship dance and juveniles that are not far off fledging so are jumping and desperately flapping their huge wings.

 A rare view across to South Georgia, with one of the Fur Seals that has climbed really far up the slope in search of a bit of breeding space.

Other jobs have included preparing a set of geolocators for further science work, testing the penguin weighbridge and helping with a Black-browed Albatross census, but all that will have to wait for a different blog.

Wandering Albatross spreading it's wings in hope of getting a bit of air.

Jerry.

The Journey South

Sunday 11^th November, 4pm. Half the BI team (Tamsin, Hannah and I) gather in BAS HQ in Cambridge and get on the minibus. On the way we think it's really funny to send Steph a massive long list of things we've forgotten and ask her to pick them up (bread, cheese, balsamic vinegar, watermelon, socks, shower cap, fax machine, stepladder, bowling ball and shoes (x2), christmas tree... you get the idea).

By 8pm we're at Brize Norton where we meet up with Steph (who hasn't got our requests) and Craig, who we've only just met there and then. By 11 we're on the plane and heading South, enjoying their cheap and nasty drink and meals along with the handed out iPads.

Monday morning. Two hour stopover in Ascencion while the plane refuels. We spend this time standing around inside 'the cage', a fenced off bit of tarmac preventing us going anywhere while the low cloud prevents us from seeing much of anything. Still, we try and enjoy our last bit of warm weather.

Monday afternoon. Arrive in Falkland Islands and discover if anything it's even warmer here! Our journey Stanley is by another minibus, this time one that loses part of the side of it half way along the big dirt track. In Stanley we get straight onto our ship, the RSS James Clark Ross (JCR). The cabins are comfortable, there's three 3-course meals a day and the bar prices are incredibly low. After a meal onboard we head into town and find a pub full of British flags playing 80s tunes on the video jukebox.

A broken bus in the Falklands

Tuesday. We were due to depart in the morning but plans change and we get an extra day ashore while they test the lifeboats. After various safety and evacuation drills we again headed into Stanley. As with yesterday it takes us ages as we're stopping all the time to look at the gulls, vultures, ducks and a few dolphins. It was still really hot so we grabbed lunch from the supermarket and sat with an ice cream under the whale-bone arch. After a little gift shop browsing we were about to head off to find a penguin beach when a landrover pulled up and it's occupants informed us we had to be heading back to the JCR.

Looking towards Stanley

The whale-bone arch in Stanley, with us posing near it, thinking about ice cream.

The ship had to pull away from the jetty to allow another, with a medical emergency, to come in. So we went and sat in the bay for a while. From up on the top deck, the 'monkey deck' we could see everything around us – Fulmars and Giant Petrels especially. Just before tea we spotted the tiny, black and white, Commerson's Dolphins feeding very close in. Me running round and Hannah screaming was the first of our daily tellings-off for being over excited. The day signed off with a partial solar eclipse.

RSS James Clark Ross

Wednesday. After what seemed like an eternity of lifeboat drills we finally headed off. As we pulled out from Stanley we could see a group of penguins, probably Magellanic, on a distant beach. We were also joined by our first albatrosses – Black-browed – but all too soon ran into a big bank of wet fog. Later that evening we got our first Wandering Albatross, standing out as being absolutely massive, even amongst all the other huge birds.

Black-browed Albatross

Thursday and Friday. Daily life on the boat consisted of getting up for breakfast, going out on the monkey deck to look at the birds, tea break, birds, lunch, birds, tea break, play a game or something, birds, dinner, birds. It was a nice crossing with only a small feeling of sea-sickness mixed with the lethargy from taking anti-sickness pills. On the Friday evening, after having Light-mantled Sooty Albatrosses flying close most of the day, we saw our first seals. Out on the moneky deck we looked down at increasing numbers until we came across a feeding frenzy that must have contained 300-400 individuals, all popping up, diving and porpoising through the water. Shortly after we passed them there was a distinctive whale-blow in the distance, followed by several more closer in and finally a (probably Minke) whale surfacing just in front of us.

Pair of Light-mantled Sooty Albatross in a brief synchronised display flight.

Saturday. We'd been up on deck in the morning looking out for land, but gave up because of snow, fog and cold. Then, about 11, someone came into the bar and announced 'we're there'. Bird Island looked ominous and intimidating – low cloud with steep, snow-covered slopes leading up into it. The five of us, plus our luggage, were taken ashore in the little Humber ribs to meet the current occupants, those who'd just over-wintered; Ruth, Jon, Jen and Rob, as well as Jaume who'd come down a month earlier. We were shown around base and tried to settle in as the excitement welled up at seeing the beach covered in male Fur Seals (a few females and even a few puppies close by the jetty), Gentoo Penguins (and one ill-looking King) standing around looking confused and various albatrosses circling overhead. The captain decided it was too rough to do any real unloading so were had the afternoon to get to grips with our new home, an afternoon during which the sun came out and we were able to enjoy and gin and tonic on the jetty.

Welcome to Bird Island: (l-r) Hannah, Jaume, Jen, Steph, Ruth, Craig, Rob, Jon.

(kneeling) me, (setting up her camera so absent) Tamsin.

Jerry.

It's a very small amount of internet we've got here so I won't be putting up too many pictures on the blog. Instead I'll try and regularly post some here.

Alternative updates.

Not sure how often I'll be able to update my blog while on Bird Island as we've low bandwidth. So I've also set up a Blipfoto account here that may be updated more often.

We'll see I guess.

Jerry.

Ready to go

It's almost time for departure. My bags are packed and I've said all my goodbyes. I'm spending my last few days visiting friends, couch surfing, and occasionally popping into the office.

In the last few weeks I've been sorting out those last-minute jobs like banking and phone cards. I haven't had to do too much panic buying, though there's been a few additional requests to take more stuff with me - either goodies for those already down there or bits of scientific equipment that we'll be needing.

A rare nice day in the Lake District with plenty of autumn colours.

I managed to have some time back in the Lake District. Unfortunately the weather was Bird Island-like; wet and grey, so I wasn't able to do much in the way of exciting walks. Instead I managed a few muddy runs and had plenty of time to pack my bags. I also took my new camera out to try and get some practice before going south.

Dipper and Blackbird by the River Kent.

As someone who isn't really bothered about Christmas I wasn't too fussed about missing it, but I had a very enjoyable evening as my Mum cooked an impromptu one for the family. I found myself packing a few wrapped gifts and leaving a few too - the earliest I've ever prepared for Christmas by about two months.

 November Christmas.

I had an enjoyable weekend in the land of car-parks and roundabouts that is Telford. From there we were able to get out in the sun to the Stiperstones (where we found the first snow of the year), Ironbridge and Wrekin.

 Stiperstones and old mining buildings.

I feel alarmingly laid-back about the massive adventure I'm about to go on. I don't know whether it's because I've been preparing for it for so long or because I still can't really believe it's happening

One of my last meals out with my parents - sandwiches in the back of the van in the wet, grey Leighton Moss car park.

Jerry

Last trip to Skomer

This week sees my last few days in the office in Cambridge before spending some time back in the Lake District. The weekend just gone was a fun one though...

I headed down to Pembrokeshire on Friday night, to The Griffin in Dale, where people had gathered for what should have been the final episode of Dream Island, the documentary about Skokholm made over the last two years (due to last weeks football it was actually episode 5, the last one is next week). It was great to see assorted programme-makers, boatmen and volunteers, as well as Chris and Sarah, enjoying our work and applauding loudly during the end credits.

South Haven, Skomer

Despite all expectations the weekend was sunny and calm and we were able to get over to Skomer. Porpoise passed us on the way, seeming to celebrate my return. It's a lovely time of year to be there as the low sun brings out the greens and browns of dying vegetation, while plenty of migratory birds are making their way through. There wasn't anything too rare this weekend but it really felt like autumn as Sunday morning brought several hundred thrushes as well as finches and others passing overhead. Flocks of Jackdaws and Starlings are hanging around, enough to hear the 'wooooosh' as they fly past.

Grey Seals on North Haven beach.

Probably the real draw of this time of year though are the Grey Seal pups. It's the middle of the season down on Skomer and around 130 had been born already. A big storm last week had moved them around a little, with big waves picking up some and depositing them on different beaches. This can potentially be very bad news as pups get injured, cold or separated from their mothers, but the majority we saw were sleeping away all fat and happy.

Fat, healthy, moulted pup on the slipway.

Because of the storms and the high number of pups still being born Dave is very busy running round recording and identifying them. We got to go with him down to the bottom of The Wick, an exciting part of Skomer only accessed at this time of year. A bit of a scramble takes you down to the shingle where many years worth of driftwood has piled up and young seals are surprisingly camouflaged. The seal pups are marked with an agricultural dye on their white coat. This moults before they head off on their own and is used to differentiate them and record how successful a season it has been. There was one or two particularly aggressive mothers down The Wick so it was useful to have one person distracting them while the other nipped in and marked the pup. I'll report how different work on Bird Island is, where each angry seal is surrounded by thousands of other angry seals.

 Trip down to the bottom of The Wick to mark and record seal pups.

We departed on Sunday afternoon and stopped briefly by my Grandma's house, a wonderful place looking out over Tenby and the beach, where I spent many happy childhood holidays. It's the last time I'll see it as it's being sold, so saying goodbye was harder than saying goodbye to many people. There was time for an stroll down to the beach in the evening sun before stopping at another pub for tea.

Looking along the beach to Tenby.

A damp day in Cardiff followed by a long train journey back to foggy Cambridge couldn't detract from the joy of two sunny days on the Pembrokeshire islands, including my last chance to swim in the sea.

Jerry.

Training continued.

A month to go now before I depart. We got the disappointing news the other day that our flights have been put back from the 7th to the 11th November. The ship is due to leave the Falklands on 13th and we were looking forward to a few days exploring there, but I doubt we'll get to do that now. We'll be taking the quickest and most direct route possible; flying from Brize Norton to the Falklands via Ascension Island, then on the RRS James Clark Ross to Bird Island. That'll take us five days (if the sea's calm enough to get straight in to BI, if not we may get to see a bit of King Edward Point and Grytviken on South Georgia as she unloads there).
After the excitement of conference and field course it was a bit frustrating to be back in the office when we really just wanted to get going, especially as others have already departed, at least on their pre-deployment holidays. But we've had quite a variety of other courses to keep us busy, mainly introductions to lab, biosample and data record management and identifying squid beaks and otoliths (fish ear bones) so we can work out what our animals are eating.

We had interesting tours yesterday of the aquarium and ice-core store. In the latter we got to play with some 20,000 year old ice while in the former we saw a range of weird creatures - bright sea lemons, large sea spiders and an old fish.

The weather's generally been pretty good in Cambridge, though there's a noticeable chill and darkness when I leave and return to the house. I've been jogging to work fairly regularly to try and ensure I'll be fit enough to keep up with the guys already down there when we have to stride out over the notoriously difficult tussock grass.

One of the stupidly ostentatious Cambridge colleges I go past on my journey to work.

It's been a few years since I was on the mainland at this time of year so I'm rediscovering the spectacular autumn colours as the trees turn yellow and red. On Skomer and Skokholm the few trees that there are tend to lose their leaves all in one go with the first severe autumn storm, over here I can collect conkers and kick big piles of leaves.

Enjoying time in the woods before I leave for another treeless island.