To See With the Albatross

To See With the Albatross by sue walsh very quietly. We were very fortunate and ended up seeing South Island saddlebacks, weka, tui, kaka, the very small riflemen, parakeets, oyster catchers, brown creepers, yellowheads, South Island robins and a Stewart Island kiwi who decided to come out during the day and forage for food.

I was sitting in the cabin of the catamaran eating my lunch looking out the door at two blackbacked gulls gently rocking on the smooth water of Paterson’s Inlet. One of them was really big and I was thinking “they breed them big down here” when I heard a crew member say “yes, it followed us in.” All of a sudden the cogs in my head started whirring and I instantly realised that the big gull was in fact an albatross – one of my favourite birds. Not having seen very many of these marvellous birds I was torn between finishing my lunch and grabbing my camera and heading out to take photos. Food was important so I forced myself to finish eating and when I got my camera my feet were already halfway out the door. What an amazing start to the afternoon section of the pelagic tour.

The morning had started with everyone gathering at a small wharf to take the shuttle over to Ulva Island. Our guide for the day, Matt Jones, explained what the day would involve and what we would be doing on Ulva Island – bird watching – and then for the afternoon we would be on a boat heading down to Wrecks Reef to do seabird watching.

Once we landed on Ulva he took us through the history of the island and spoke in more detail about how we would go about spotting the birds. Never having done a tour like this before, I found it quite intriguing. We were to walk very slowly, stopping frequently and waiting and watching to see if birds would show themselves, and talk After a couple of hours it was back to the wharf and onto the catamaran where my expectations for the afternoon were exceeded within five minutes of leaving the wharf. I didn’t think it could get any better.

As we made our way down Paterson’s Inlet and into the open sea more albatross flew in behind the original bird and we soon had a squadron flying in formation behind us. To ensure we did see seabirds, there was a large plastic bin in one corner of the catamaran that was filled with fresh blue cod. Before Matt could start to use some of it, the squadron turned into two, and as another boat came into view on our left, the albatross started peeling away and diving into the water. The other boat came from salmon farms and was dumping the dead salmon in the open water. Apparently they are allowed to do this once a week. The albatross saw an easy feed so went for it, however, once they realised the majority of the fish was old they left it alone. As Matt said, they might be opportunists but they won’t eat everything.

Albatross are incredibly graceful in the air, however, coming in to land on water is another matter. As they drop down towards the sea their legs, which have been tucked up under their bodies, drop down. Just before they touch the sea their feet come forward to provide a flat surface. With wings widespread they touch down and water ski across the surface, sometimes in a graceful arc using the end of the wing to balance, until gravity takes over, the landing gear goes back up and they settle in the water, usually with a big back wash that goes halfway up their front. At times the landing looked very precarious particularly when Matt would hold out a bit of blue cod. The albatross would fly in closely and eyeball the cod in his hand, usually with their landing gear down. As they landed they would still be watching the blue cod and you wondered sometimes how they didn’t crash or do a nose dive into the water.

Taking off from the water was also interesting and comical to watch. The albatross sort of lift up a bit from the water and start to flap their wings which raises them further out of the water, then they run along the top of the water, wings beating, head extended with a very concentrated almost worried look on their face before finally lifting off and soaring into the air.

We eventually reached the reef and it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, with the Antarctic due south. By this time the call had gone out on the bird grapevine and we were surrounded by magnificent albatross in all sizes as well as a variety of petrels including a great giant northern petrel, which was really huge. In direct contrast were a pair of small cape petrels that were incredibly cute.

In my eyes, albatross are very dignified; that image was shattered when blue cod was thrown into the water for them. These very elegant dignified looking birds suddenly turned into a rabble of playground thugs squawking and Buller’s mollymawks shrieking at each other. The noise was shrill, ear piercing and constant. But it was startling how quickly you adjusted to it and it became commonplace.

As we bobbed in the water in perfect conditions, Matt pointed out the different types of bird. We had Buller’s mollymawks, Salvin’s mollymawks, white-capped albatross and three mighty giant southern royal albatrosses. Matt explained with the giant southern royal albatross that they observe a strict hierarchy. This was forcibly demonstrated to us when there were a mighty squawk and one of the lighter coloured royal albatross went for a darker coloured one and engulfed its head in its bill and seemed to be trying to close its bill exerting pressure on the head of what was the younger bird. I didn’t know if I was going to witness something horrible when the older bird released the younger one. Matt, who had observed everything, noted that the younger bird had tried to snatch fish away from the older bird who had promptly demonstrated who was in charge.

I noticed two very small birds bobbing in the water. They were a pair of cape petrels. They paddled around outside the wider group of albatross and mollymawks and never attempted to get any of the fish that was thrown to the group. At one point they were quite close to a giant southern royal albatross and the contrast in size was quite significant, almost like comparing a sparrow to the body of a turkey, or maybe an ostrich.

As we were watching the birds, Matt called out pointing to a darker coloured bird that had an evil look about

A cape petrel and southern royal albatross Close up of a Buller’s mollymawk it. The ferocious skua had arrived and, as I was comparing the albatross to planes, the skua looked like an enemy fighter plane. The colouring was dark, the head scooped low down giving it a hunchbacked look. Matt got some cod in his hand and held it up in the air. The skua swooped low over the boat looking at the cod. Matt threw the cod up in the air, the skua circled and caught it. Matt threw another piece up and the skua repeated its performance. This happened a few more times before it flew off.

I had realised after a while that seagulls were no longer part of the birds that were around us. I’d never thought about how far out from land they might fly and clearly we were too far out for them. Eventually, when we turned north and headed towards Oban the seagulls reappeared. The difference in flight between the gulls and albatross was interesting. Gulls madly flap their wings whereas albatross glide with the odd down or up push of their wings.

As we got closer to Oban the number of albatross dropped away and eventually seagulls were our only companions. The catamaran pulled into the wharf and that was the end of an amazing day and spectacular afternoon.

Back in the comfort of my home going through the hundreds of photos I took, the trip seems like a dream. It was so special seeing these amazing birds with their effortless glide and swoop over the waves. Folk normally associate Stewart Island with tramping and kiwi spotting. This time my experience was different, unintentionally focussed on bird life. The pelagic tour was expensive, but it was worth every cent and I’m so pleased my memories are of cheeky kaka, a foraging kiwi and the magnificent albatross.