West Point Island, the Falkland Islands
When Endeavour first visited the Falkland Islands this season it was November, spring in the Southern Hemisphere. The Falkland Islands are the most important breeding locale for black-browed albatrosses, and these large seabirds were already occupying the colonies that they share with rockhopper penguins and imperial cormorants or shags, each species a variation on a theme of black and white. The adult albatrosses were sitting patiently on their mud pedestal nests, regularly spaced pecking-distance apart and looking ever-so-much like overturned pots. On each nest was a single large egg. On our next visit, in December, a small, helpless albatross chick could be seen peeking out whenever the attending parent (it might be male or female) adjusted its position. All summer long the parents made foraging trips, soaring over the waves in search of food for their young. It takes all of the efforts of two adults to satisfy the demands of one growing chick, first foraging in turn, later leaving the chick alone on the nest while both parents seek food.
Now the southern summer is approaching its end, and the result of the parents’ labors are evident on the albatross colony on West Point Island. Those small chicks now appear as large as their parents, their size exaggerated by a thick coat of smoke-gray down through which the first adult-type contour feathers are just appearing. The once-helpless chicks now clack their bills in threat if approached too closely. They face into the wind and exercise their wings, developing the flight muscles that they will soon need. In about four weeks these ungainly adolescents will depart the breeding colony and begin the serious and risky task of surviving until they can return as young adults to join the breeding population. Hopefully they will find sufficient food and survive the gauntlet of hooks of the long-line fishing industry to soar gracefully on the winds of the Southern Ocean, delighting future generations of travelers just like us.
When Endeavour first visited the Falkland Islands this season it was November, spring in the Southern Hemisphere. The Falkland Islands are the most important breeding locale for black-browed albatrosses, and these large seabirds were already occupying the colonies that they share with rockhopper penguins and imperial cormorants or shags, each species a variation on a theme of black and white. The adult albatrosses were sitting patiently on their mud pedestal nests, regularly spaced pecking-distance apart and looking ever-so-much like overturned pots. On each nest was a single large egg. On our next visit, in December, a small, helpless albatross chick could be seen peeking out whenever the attending parent (it might be male or female) adjusted its position. All summer long the parents made foraging trips, soaring over the waves in search of food for their young. It takes all of the efforts of two adults to satisfy the demands of one growing chick, first foraging in turn, later leaving the chick alone on the nest while both parents seek food.
Now the southern summer is approaching its end, and the result of the parents’ labors are evident on the albatross colony on West Point Island. Those small chicks now appear as large as their parents, their size exaggerated by a thick coat of smoke-gray down through which the first adult-type contour feathers are just appearing. The once-helpless chicks now clack their bills in threat if approached too closely. They face into the wind and exercise their wings, developing the flight muscles that they will soon need. In about four weeks these ungainly adolescents will depart the breeding colony and begin the serious and risky task of surviving until they can return as young adults to join the breeding population. Hopefully they will find sufficient food and survive the gauntlet of hooks of the long-line fishing industry to soar gracefully on the winds of the Southern Ocean, delighting future generations of travelers just like us.
