Antarctica Tour: Six Hundred Kilometers of Albatross

By Jim Danzenbaker and Ann Nightingale 

The carpet of Black-browed Albatrosses seen here was photographed on 4 January 2012. This colony covers roughly three miles of shoreline at Steeple Jason. If lined up wingtip to wingtip, the 300,000 Black-broweds that summer here would stretch for 600 kilometers. (Photo by Ann Nightingale)

4 January 2012

Jim’s view: Steeple Jason—one of the crown jewels of the Falkland Islands—didn’t disappoint today. It's hard to top waking up and seeing an island salted and peppered by thousands of Black-browed Albatrosses. Superlatives can’t capture the landscapes or the sheer amount of life on this island. After a bouncy Zodiac ride and a rocky landing, I had arrived. A fellow staffer and I headed toward the colony, marking a trail with flags as we went. 

Once the trail had been set, I plunged into the twelve-foot high tussock grass and stole a moment to view the extensive colony. Wow, what an incredible sight! Many albatrosses with a single chick on their pedestal nests, others in ritualistic display and still others serenely sleeping, egg or young completely concealed. Rockhopper Penguins with young populated the corridors between the pedestals. Albatrosses plied the sky—high, low, and everywhere in between. A 113,000 pairs of breeding Black-footed Albatrosses with at least another 75,000 non-breeders call this island home—600 kilometers of albatross, if you lined them up wingtip to wingtip. 

Back at our proposed base camp for gear, two pairs of Johnny Rooks were investigating me, so I chose a new location. They are not only very curious, they are also very territorial and they will vigorously defend their nesting areas. I had been warned! Others in our party arrived and shared in this visual bounty. I gave two talks on the Black-browed Albatrosses, both well attended. I managed the landing without getting hit by any Johnny Rooks, something that I've endured in other years. At least five others weren't so lucky. A Johnny Rook grabbed a hat right off one person's head and then dropped it into the tussock grass, never to be seen again. I took the opportunity to lie on the ground and let the albatrosses fly several feet in front of my face as they lit in a loafing spot, apparently reserved for non-breeding birds–an indescribable experience! 

Jim takes a moment to relax and enjoy the Black-browed Albatrosses sailing right over him (Photo by Ann Nightingale)

On the walk back to the landing site a pair of skuas with chicks stole some valuable remaining time. All good things must come to an end. The last Zodiac headed back to the Ortelius at 4 p.m. A full nine hours on shore and every minute worthwhile. We enjoyed a full entourage of birds during our sail along the northern coast of the Falklands on our way to South Georgia. Penguins, Fur Seals, Albatrosses and snow-capped peaks ahead.  

Ann’s view: This morning’s landings came with warnings of sharp slippery rocks and rough loading and unloading of the Zodiacs, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult as suggested. The weather was forecast to be rainy, but aside from a few showers, we had another sunny day. Our destination was Steeple Jason Island, home to the largest Black-browed Albatross colony I’m likely to ever see. Three miles of beach hold somewhere around 300,000 birds, not even counting the chicks! The winds were strong enough to keep the sky filled with these “small” albatrosses. They only have a six-foot wingspan. 

Several disparate thoughts crossed my mind today. I wondered if scenes like this greeted the Europeans when they arrived in North America. It’s easy to understand how such abundance could make people complacent about conserving a species. I felt akin to bees and butterflies as I broke my way through the tussock grass to get close to the colony. When I emerged, I was covered from head to foot with orange pollen. Perhaps I have helped the fertilization process for thousands of new tussock plants. And I noticed that the stark beauty of the island may be due, in part, because there were no trees or bushes in sight. 

Tussock Birds make walking a challenge. They always seems to be inches away. (Photo by Jim Danzenbaker)

The Falklands are shaped by the wind in many ways, and the lack of tall vegetation is one of them. Plants grow close to the ground or in thick “groves” like the tussocks. Just like the birds, they cluster together, providing protection from the elements.  The birds. What can you say about tens of thousands of nesting albatrosses that barely raise a black brow when dozens of people in colorful outdoor gear and snapping cameras are standing just a stone’s throw away? They come and go, feed their young, bicker, court and carry on as if we weren’t even there. 

Three species of penguins pose for hours on end, the young chicks panting in the heat of a Falkland summer day. The Johnny Rooks (Striated Caracaras) entertained us by creeping up to us as we sat on the ground, even nipping at those who were brave (and foolish) enough to let them have a taste of human flesh. Several in our group felt the harsh reality of a raptor’s talons on the back of their heads when they approached too close to a nesting area. One even lost her hat to an attacking Johnny Rook. I found two Brown Skua nests. The first parents were gracious enough to let me take pictures of their chicks without a fuss. The second parents flew out of a burrow in the hillside shrieking their displeasure that I had was on their island. Albatrosses as far as you can see, penguins waddling in and out of the ocean, predators prepared to take full advantage of our presence—wow! To use the words of a friend, it was a spectacle!