Espanola Island
A new season has begun in the islands. We have been receiving indications of its imminent arrival for the past few weeks in the form of dark clouds over greening hillsides. Today we visited the island of Espanola, we felt a good little rainfall while out on the island, and soft dirt turned quickly to soft mud, but later dried almost as quickly before we returned to the ship. The seas around us were calm. So calm that we gave up on the famous “blowhole” on the coast, and were surprised when it actually blew water into the air after many long minutes of inaction. There weren’t many big waves to start it up, because the southeast trade winds have finally given way to the lighter northeast winds and the Panama current. The cool, nutrient-rich Humboldt Current no longer reaches so far north, and so the Galápagos waved albatross has also abandoned the archipelago for at least the next three months. One last individual was spotted flying overhead, but none on land, and even that lone albatross disappeared quickly (we suspect in a southeasterly direction). Most will spend the next months off the coast of Peru, where up welling continues and the fishing is enough for survival, but not breeding.
Goodbye albatross, hello young Nazca boobies!
There are chicks galore along the outer coastal trail of Punta Suarez, the name given to the westernmost tip of Espanola Island. Some are already over a month old, but many are much, much younger. In fact, the chick of the photo still had the eggshell attached to the rear end of its body when first seen under the back half of the incubating adult. It was sharing space under its parent with another egg, and in order to get to its parent’s feet after hatching, where all the good warmth and protection lay, it apparently wiggled its way (minutes after exiting the egg) between the parents legs, around its sibling egg, through warm white feathers, until the next time we caught a glimpse of it, when it was lying comfortably on the warm, wide, webbed feet of Mom or Dad.
A new season has begun in the islands. We have been receiving indications of its imminent arrival for the past few weeks in the form of dark clouds over greening hillsides. Today we visited the island of Espanola, we felt a good little rainfall while out on the island, and soft dirt turned quickly to soft mud, but later dried almost as quickly before we returned to the ship. The seas around us were calm. So calm that we gave up on the famous “blowhole” on the coast, and were surprised when it actually blew water into the air after many long minutes of inaction. There weren’t many big waves to start it up, because the southeast trade winds have finally given way to the lighter northeast winds and the Panama current. The cool, nutrient-rich Humboldt Current no longer reaches so far north, and so the Galápagos waved albatross has also abandoned the archipelago for at least the next three months. One last individual was spotted flying overhead, but none on land, and even that lone albatross disappeared quickly (we suspect in a southeasterly direction). Most will spend the next months off the coast of Peru, where up welling continues and the fishing is enough for survival, but not breeding.
Goodbye albatross, hello young Nazca boobies!
There are chicks galore along the outer coastal trail of Punta Suarez, the name given to the westernmost tip of Espanola Island. Some are already over a month old, but many are much, much younger. In fact, the chick of the photo still had the eggshell attached to the rear end of its body when first seen under the back half of the incubating adult. It was sharing space under its parent with another egg, and in order to get to its parent’s feet after hatching, where all the good warmth and protection lay, it apparently wiggled its way (minutes after exiting the egg) between the parents legs, around its sibling egg, through warm white feathers, until the next time we caught a glimpse of it, when it was lying comfortably on the warm, wide, webbed feet of Mom or Dad.
