Thursday 15 May 2014

The Pelagic Australis

Considering where we are, we don’t get many visitors at BI, especially in winter. What we do sometimes get are boats of different sizes sailing past. This is by no means an everyday occurrence, and spotting a ship on the horizon is every bit as exciting as spotting a whale. A while ago, myself and Jess were collecting diet samples in a Black Browed albatross colony on the side of Molly Hill when we spotted a small yacht sailing around the north cliffs of BI. The swell was enormous and the little yacht was pitching and rolling along every axis. Considering how close to us they were, I decided to play the friendly neighbour, and radioed them to say hello (we all carry walkie talkies when out and about). Without knowing the name of the boat I radioed “Yacht, yacht. This is Bird Island, Bird Island”. Thankfully they understood English and a friendly Englishman replied “Bird Island, Bird Island, this is yacht (he may have been smirking when he said this) Pelagic Australis, Pelagic Australis”. We then had a friendly chat and joked about how seasick some of their crew were, and how mercilessly the rest of the crew were teasing them. I asked what brought them to our neighbourhood, and after joking (we hope) that they were invading Bird Island, they told us they were down as part of the rat eradication project on South Georgia. We tried to point out to them where we were standing, and they tried to point out a Southern Right whale between us and the yacht, but to no avail. We then wished them good luck on the rest of their trip (looking at the seas ahead of them they needed it) and they said they’d call again on their way back in a couple weeks time.
               
Lo and behold, two weeks later, I’d strolled out to the end of the jetty to practise my photography (still learning) when I saw a yacht hanging around just outside the bay. I radioed again and it was our friends on the Pelagic Australis once again. This time they’d sailed close enough to wave hello. Again, we had a nice chat about rats, seals, and wanderers, and even made some small talk about the weather, before waving goodbye as they set sail for home. 

The crew of the Pelagic Australis stopping by to wave hello (photo by Cian Luck)

The Pelagic Australis setting sail for home, escorted by wanderers (photo by Cian Luck)


Meet the Neighbours: Antarctic Fur Seals

Out of all the animals on Bird Island, the furries are the ones I know best. It’s my job to work with them, but during summer they interject themselves into everyone’s lives. During the breeding season, the beach in front of base fills entirely with fighting males and pupping females, and as the season progresses the beach and base get taken over by packs of marauding puppies.

The males

Let’s start with the big fellas. Around early November time, the males start arriving ashore and establishing territories. Before the ladies arrive, the beaches become dotted with large, regularly spaced, male fur seals. The males are powerhouses of muscle, and they fight tooth and nail to defend their patch of beach. The damage they do to each other defending their territories is unbelievable. Exposed skulls aren’t unusual. The drive to reproduce is so strong that by the end of the season many males have died from injuries or pure exhaustion. The prime real estate seems to be near the water, above the tide line. The males below the waterline or near the grass tend to be smaller and have fewer girlfriends. We call these smaller males psycho-sized, as they seem to suffer from small man syndrome and are the most likely to give you a chase.

I can’t say that any of the big males are particularly friendly, but I met an odd one earlier in the year. One sunny (it happens sometimes) afternoon I was having lunch on the picnic bench out front. While I was eating, a fair sized male approached from behind. By the time I noticed he was already close and he wasn’t being in any way aggressive so I just sat (very) still. He then gave me a sniff and shuffled up beside me, before resting his enormous head on the bench next to me, and giving me puppy dog eyes. He seemed happy to rest like this for some time before lying on the ground with his head by my feet, and going to sleep. At which point I slowly and surely backed away with lunch in hand. He was in no way harmless, but he didn’t seem to have any harmful intentions. I think I was just in his favourite napping spot.

Top to bottom: Early territorial males await the arrival of the females, while the penguins keep them company (photo by Cian Luck). A male guards his girlfriends (photo by Cian Luck). The beach in front of base during breeding season; not even at its busiest (photo by Jess Walkup)

The females

The females are half the size of the males but have nearly as much aggro. Around mid-November, the females start showing up on the beaches and get immediately hassled by every male they pass. If a female enters a male’s territory he tends to do everything he can to block her leaving, and they’re nothing if not persistent. Once she finds a spot she likes, or a male she can’t evade, she settles down, and within the next day or two pops out a squeaking, furry puppy.

A week later the female leaves the puppy for the first time and heads off to sea to feed. For the next few months the mum will keep this up, feeding herself at sea, then coming ashore to feed her pup. The length of time she spends at sea varies between seals and years, but 3-5 days is typical, and the first trip is the longest. Once she gets back to shore she starts screaming for her pup. These screams are shrill, loud, and often go on through the night (outside our bedroom windows). The sound they make is hard to describe, but it you’ve seen that YouTube video where someone’s dubbed a Taylor Swift song with the sound of screaming goats, those screams are close enough. Once the puppies hear their mum returning, they go nuts. We often stopped to watch reunions as the puppies shook violently with excitement, and squeaked and shouted when they reunited with mum. Early on, the mums and pups stay near the birth site, but as the season goes on the mums lead the pups further and further into the tussock grass, until you start meeting them up the hills; 100m above sea level.
A proud mother with her overly attached pup (photo by Cian Luck)
The puppies

And then there are the puppies. They’re just the best. As I write this in May, the puppies (born only in December) have left. It was a sad affair to see them leave but it was a joy to watch them grow up enough to strike out on their own. When they’re first born they tend not to wander far from mum and milk, and they seem a bit lost the first time their mum goes to sea, but by the second of third trip you can find them roaming the beach, clambering up rocks, and exploring.

They’re super curious at this stage. I lay down out back to rest once and before I knew it I had a puppy clambering over me. Soon they learn to playfight and once they start they only stop to eat, sleep, and scratch. Often you can see small gangs of puppies running up and down the beach, looking for trouble. They learn to swim and within a day go from flapping about frantically, like a toddler in a paddling pool, to gliding through the water with some grace. Then it’s time to moult their puppy fur and this transformation is a funny one. A pre-moult puppy, black and fluffy, is cute. A post-moult puppy, grey and sleek, is cute. A moulting puppy is hilarious. They start to lose their long puppy hair around the eyebrows and before long most of the puppies are balding like Charles Darwin. The puppies continue to moult until they’re left only with hairy David Hasselhoff chests, and then eventually have a smooth, sleek coat of short grey fur. I could go on and on about how brilliant and adorable puppies are but pictures tell a better story.

Just a handful of my favourite puppy pictures. Cheers to Jerry for the pic of a moulting/balding pup (rest of the photos by Cian Luck)
Fur seals have great personalities that become more apparent the more time you spend with them. Some of them might be a bit on the angry side but they have lots of endearing qualities too.

Things fur seals love:
  • Sleeping
  • Playfighting
  • Scratching - they really love scratching
  • Comfy beds
  • Snow and ice - even better is scratching on ice
Fur seals doing what they love (photos by Cian Luck)

Things fur seals don’t love
  • Getting wet – Funnily enough, on rainy days you can see a steady stream of them heading for the sea, and if the ground’s wet they’ll be jostling to find a loftier space to sleep.
  • Me 
Fur seals showing their equal dislike for soggy ground and yours truly (photos by Cian Luck)

But I’m working on this last one

A friendly youngster giving my gloved hand a shniff (photo by Cian Luck)