Life and Death on Bird Island

One of the many pleasures of working here on Bird Island is the view from my office window.  Facing South West over Freshwater Inlet I can see across the beach towards Round How. Unfortunately this piece of high ground obscures the full drama of the southern sunsets, but as the sky is set alight each night I can still enjoy the wheeling silhouettes of the many Black-Browed and Wandering albatrosses that nest along its slopes.  At present the beach remains packed with fur seals who keep up a constant and noisy cacophony as they squabble and bicker amongst themselves. Mothers call for their pups as they return from feeding at sea and screech at any other seal that gets too close. Males ‘choof’ and roar at each other as they defend their territories and harems while puppies constantly bleat for their absent parents. This vocal dissonance provides the background to our every waking (and sleeping) hour. It becomes easy to tune it out, noticing it only when we have been enjoying the relative peace of the hilltops.  When we return over the ridge our senses are immediately assaulted by the sheer density of the seal population.  The air is thick with musk which clings to our clothes and hair, so pungent that we can almost taste it. To me, the roar of the beach sounds like a football crowd with individual voices only occasionally rising out of the din.

The seals are joined on the beach by birds arriving by both sea and air. The Giant Petrels fight amongst themselves for the choicest cuts from the freshly (and not so freshly) deceased pups. These tiny corpses litter the beach as they fall victim to infection, starvation and occasionally violence. Should an unsuspecting pup find itself between two opposing bulls it will be afforded no quarter. The pups are often crushed beneath the bulls’ flippers and if they are lucky death will be swift.  After the Petrels have picked open the cadaver they are joined by the Skuas who hover in the background before using their powerful beaks to dissect the remains further. In addition to these unfortunate pups, the bodies of adult males litter the stream beds around the base. These victims of the constant conflict provide a welcome source of food for the birds who are raising families of their own on the slopes above. These birds include Pintail ducks, whose attractive plumage and timid behaviour belie their carnivorous and bloodthirsty nature. Unable to open a carcass with their rounded bill, they wait until it has been ripped apart by other birds before gorging on the fleshy remains.

Penguins arrive by sea to find themselves stranded amongst the seething mass of fur seals that dominate the shore. Visitors from the nearby Gentoo colony often arrive in groups. It is hard to tell whether their presence on Freshwater Beach is a result of curiosity or of some unfortunate navigational error. Perhaps they are simply parents seeking respite from the demands of their ravenous chicks. They carefully pick their way between the seals, occasionally stopping to watch as if they were tourists taking in the spectacle of some new and exotic culture.  King Penguins arrive alone or occasionally in pairs wearing the slightly baffled expression of someone who has arrived at a quiet holiday resort to find that it has been overrun with rowdy lager-louts. For penguins to stay on a beach so crowded with fur seals is to take a grave risk to life and limb as birds are often killed or seriously wounded. These attacks may be deliberate or occasionally the accidental result of fighting amongst the seals.  Quite recently I was standing in the kitchen doorway enjoying the view of a particularly spectacular sunset when I saw a solitary King Penguin making its way slowly and deliberately towards the base. It soon became clear that it was mortally wounded, probably the result of a Fur Seal attack. Despite its injuries the bird continued its way up the beach and stood at the bottom of the kitchen steps looking at me impassively. I am not sure why I was the focus of its attention, but as we made eye contact I was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness. This bird was clearly close to death, yet still it had made its perilous way through the seals towards me. Perhaps it was simply looking for a quiet place to die, but I was disturbed by the thought that it might be looking to me to provide shelter from the noisy hoards that surrounded it. The extent of the injuries was horrific and I wondered if perhaps there was something I could do to ease its misery. A little soul-searching quickly showed that I did not have the stomach to dispatch this beautiful creature despite its obvious suffering. As I watched it slowly turned from me and shuffled under the walkway. It stayed there all evening, quiet and immobile and in the morning it was gone.

This constant cycle of life and death that surrounds the base serves to constantly remind us how temporary our presence is. 9 people surrounded by many thousands of birds and seals puts life very much into perspective for the human residents of Bird Island. We may like to think that we have made this place our home but it is very clear that no matter how comfortable we become we will only ever be here as guests.

King Penguins

Skua and Chick

Seal pups in the kitchen!

Christmas on Bird Island

Christmas on Bird Island has been a wonderful and unique experience. As we are spared the commercial and social pressures of Christmas in the UK things were a little slow to build up and real festive spirit didn’t arrive until Christmas Eve (despite the abomination of a Christmas tree erected in the lounge and a quite frankly offensive amount of tinsel about the place.) Things were kicked off by the Bird Island Christmas Photograph which was taken on the beach outside the main buildings.  Over the past few days we have been receiving photographs and Christmas greetings from international research stations and expeditions all over Antarctica and Sub Antarctica. These communications reminded us of the very special community that we are part of here. We received about 25 emails in all, including  Christmas Wishes from the Americans, Australians, French, Koreans, Indians, Poles and New Zealanders to name but a few. The Bird Island Team took advantage of the good weather on Christmas Eve, raided wardrobes and fancy dress supplies and headed out amongst the seals. I think that you will agree that we make very fine, if unconventional, pirates.

Despite the busy work schedule a number of the base staff have been busy in the kitchen over the past few days. As a result we now have enough cake, brownies and gingerbread to last us well into the New Year. After out Christmas photo session we headed over the Seal Study beach (SSB) armed with mulled wine, mince pies and a selection of festive hats. The sun shone and the skies were clear – perfect weather for sitting on the gantry above the seals and enjoying the view. This scaffold gantry allows the seal biologists to move about above the colony unmolested by the confrontational bulls and their harems of female seals. Every year this beach becomes crowded as males hold their territories and fight for breeding rights with the females who come ashore to give birth to their pups. Many of the pups are now old enough to be left ‘home alone’ while their mothers go back to sea to feed for days at a time. Their antics are endlessly entertaining and guaranteed to leave even the most hard-hearted observer in fits of laughter. Twice a day the seal team head over to the SSB to record the number and location of newly born pups, the identity of their mothers (if known) and the presence of territory-holding males. The pups are weighed and measured before being marked with a splash of peroxide on their dark coats. This ‘blonding’ process has led to a tradition amongst Bird Island Staff in which they dye their hair blonde in honour of the first seal pups of the season. This explains the rather unprofessional looking highlights currently being sported by all of us here on the island.

Christmas day itself started with the usual work routine here on base. However a festive atmosphere prevailed with the unwrapping of cards and presents that had been thoughtfully provided by loved ones at home and transported with great care in our kit bags. As it was my responsibility to provide the Christmas meal preparation started early. Phone calls from home throughout the day served to sustain the cheerful mood and the teams worked hard to finish their work in time to help out in the kitchen. Taking advantage of the glorious weather Jaume and I managed to escape long enough to enjoy the spectacular views from the top of Gazella peak where Antarctic Terns wheeled above the cliffs . These small birds are no bigger than a swallow. They have grey plumage and a black cap, but seen from a distance on a sunny day they appear pure white as they dance and swoop above the waves. 

A traditional Christmas dinner with all the trimmings was enjoyed by all. This was followed by Christmas cake made by Ruth, complete with marzipan seals, and Gingerbread houses by Steph and Craig – decorated with both penguins and polar bears (a biological conundrum that did nothing to detract from our enjoyment of their work.) After dinner we settled down to a game of ‘Balderdash.’ I would like to tell you that this was a quiet and civilised affair in which we adhered to every rule of the game before retiring early to bed.  However the hushed tones about the base this morning, the bloodshot eyes and the general Christmas debris littering the dining room might suggest something different....... However work continues. Generators must be checked, seals tracked and counted, birds monitored and data recorded. Sleepy heads have been roused from bed, coffee brewed and boots are tramping across the hillsides- not for us the traditional Boxing Day stupor in front of the television.  And I can honestly say that not one of us would have it any other way.

More from Bird Island

Today I thought I might introduce some of the infrastructure here at the Bird Island Research Station: The current base buildings were constructed in 2005. They include: Prince House (in memory of Pete Prince, BAS biologist and Base Commander at Bird Island 1993-98) which is the main living accommodation and scientific facility, Beck House (named after Rolla Howard Beck, American bird biologist) which contains storage, workshop and additional science space and the generator shed, which contains (surprisingly) the generators and also fire suppression pumps. In addition to the main buildings there are several field huts located around the Island. The Fairy Point Hut, colloquially known as ‘Love Shack’ is the best equipped of these. It provides sleeping accommodation and catering facilities for staff who are required to carry out field work overnight, for example mist-netting of birds. Like the other huts is also offers a welcome refuge from the worst of the weather for scientists who are often required to spend many hours working outdoors in less than ideal conditions. Additionally, should the main base have to be evacuated it provides safe, if cramped, quarters to which the team can relocate until outside assistance can be provided.  

These buildings are the latest incarnation of the Bird Island research station, which was initially established in 1956/57 when Nigel Bonner, BAS biologist and later BAS deputy-director, visited the island with the intention of studying the Antarctic Fur Seal population. The station was initially occupied only during the summer season until 1962 when first overwintering party was established.

In 1982 the Bird Island research station was evacuated following the Argentinean invasion of South Georgia. However BAS personnel returned in September of the same year and it has been continuously occupied ever since.

The current facilities provide permanent accommodation for up to 10 personnel with an additional 2 temporary bunks available. There are generally 4 overwintering staff (3 scientists and a technician), who are joined during the austral summer by an additional 3-4 scientists and also by a Base Commander for the duration of the busy research season.

Access to the station is by ship only. Personnel and supplies are transported by BAS vessels (RSS James Clark Ross and RSS Ernest Shackleton) with additional support from HMS Protector (Royal Navy Ice Patrol Vessel) and also from Fisheries Patrol Vessels. Typically there are around 3 or 4 visiting ships between October and April, but none through the winter season, leaving the base entirely isolated during this time.

The 4 overwinterers for the coming season are Hannah (Seals), Steph (Albatross), Jerry (Penguins and Petrels) and Craig (Base Tech.) I will be leaving the island in Mid-April and base administrative duties will be carried out by one of the winter staff who will be appointed ‘Winter Base Commander.’ Apart from Craig, who has already completed a deployment to Halley Station on the Antarctic mainland, all of these staff are new to BAS. They are all, however, experienced biologists. Jerry and Hannah in particular have experience of working in remote locations for extended periods of time, so a Winter on Bird Island is not an uncomfortable prospect for them.

We will also be joined later in the summer season by a team of 3 technicians, who will be staying with us for approximately 2 months to complete the construction of a bulk fuel facility, which will remove the need to rely on barrels of fuel to power our generators (a very labour intensive method.) With 12 people on station things will definitely be cosy for a while. We are hoping that the extra manpower will help us to get a lot of work done so it is sure to be a busy time.

The current workload continues to be fairly high and the breeding season continues for the many animal populations here. The seal team in particular are working very long hours, while the bird biologists are covering many miles around the island every day. In addition to allowing us to work outside for extended periods, the long daylight hours also allow us to pursue recreational activities. Yesterday was a spectacularly warm day with clear blue skies and, as photography is a popular pastime for all of the base staff, many of us took the opportunity to head up onto Wanderer Ridge after dinner in the hope of capturing one of the island’s spectacular sunsets. Unfortunately the sunset was not forthcoming, but it provided a wonderful opportunity to enjoy the company of the many Wandering Albatrosses that are nesting on the ridge. These birds are remarkably tolerant of humans and it is possible to approach them quite closely without disturbing them. If we are patient we may be treated to one of the spectacular courtship displays in which the birds show off their impressive wingspan and stretch their beaks high into the air with a distinctive’ bubbling’ call to their potential mate. While the remaining few chicks hatched last year wait to fledge the first of this year’s Wanderer eggs have already been laid. A daily survey of the ridge study area allows our scientists to keep track of the laying pattern and soon the all-island survey of the Wandering Albatross population will be carried out. This will require the help of all base staff as we search every inch of the island for birds. Fortunately their size and distinctive white plumage makes them easy to spot from a distance, quite unlike the Skuas whose brown plumage makes them extremely difficult to find amongst the tussock. Today is the last day of the 10-day Skua hunt, and my knees are certainly much the worse for wear as a result!

Jen and Steph - 'Team Albatross'

Sunday 16 December

Bird Island was named by Captain James Cook in 1775 ‘on account of the vast number of birds that were seen upon it.’ I can only presume that he did not discover it between the months of November and January or it most certainly would be known as ‘Seal Island’ today.

To the West lies Willis Island, approximately 3km away. It is named after the first of Cook’s crew to sight the islands. Willis, like South Georgia, is considerably higher than Bird Island and on a fine day its snow-capped peaks can be clearly seen from the north cliffs. It provides a stunning backdrop for views of ‘Big Mac,’ the largest of Bird Islands Macaroni Penguin colonies.

The wildlife on Bird Island has been attracting the attention of human visitors since the 1700s. However conservation has not always been a priority. By 1822 the Fur Seal population of South Georgia has been decimated by the sealing industry. The skins of these animals were in great demand for the manufacture of winter coats. They have a thick pelt with an outer layer of guard hairs that protrude beyond the more densely packed inner coat. The males develop a thick mane around their neck and shoulders through which tiny (and I think comical) ears protrude.

The seal population on Bird Island has now recovered thanks to the cessation of sealing and also to the (tragic) success of the whaling industry, which reduced the Southern Ocean’s whale population to less than 16% of original levels. This saw an explosion in krill stocks, which are the main food source for the seals and subsequently supported their recovery.  

Today the expanding seal population is very much in evidence. The beach outside the research station is packed with territory-holding bull seals and groups of females who come ashore to give birth and raise their pups. The bulls fight for territory and breeding rights constantly and when it comes to their regular, violent encounters the fur, quite literally, flies. These males will fight to the death in order to preserve their position in the beach hierarchy. Defeated males who survive these encounters may retreat back into the water to linger offshore and devise their counter-strategies while others head up the numerous valley streams onto higher and hopefully less well defended ground. Those who are not so lucky spend their last days in quiet demise around the base and provide a plentiful (and gruesome) food source for the many birds that rely on carrion to raise their own families.  

These unfortunate seals also provide a constant source of work for Craig, our base technician. One of his primary roles is the preservation of the base water supply. This includes the inspection and maintenance of the collection system from streams and roof-water, the cleaning of candle filters on an almost daily basis and the operation of the UV treatment system that provides safe drinking water. Craig is also in charge of removing seal carcasses in varying stages of decomposition from our water source. At over 200kg, a male fur seal can prove quite a challenge when it comes to dragging it over steep rocky ground to a more acceptable resting place. Fortunately the birds can soon dispose of such a carcass and the ivory-coloured bones that litter the stream beds around the base are a morbid testament to their efficiency. However, it is important that Craig gets to any newly deceased seal before the birds make it impossible to move the corpse in its entirety out of our water supply. Stepping outside the back door to find that the birds have left you an impromptu anatomy demonstration is not an unusual occurrence.   As you can imagine this has lead to the development of a rather dark and irreverent sense of humour amongst the base personnel.

Today being Sunday there is a less frenetic atmosphere than usual here on base, however work continues. The seal team are occupied in the lab and on the seal study beach (SSB) while some of the bird biologists catch up on their data entry in the office. Jerry (penguins and petrels) has just headed out onto he hill, taking advantage of the blue skies to do some more work on the long term monitoring projects and his colleague, Ruth, is already out searching for birds fitted with GLS tracking systems for retrieval and data analysis. I am off to Cobblers Mound to search for and record the location of nesting Skuas. This piece of tussocked high ground is relatively close to base and I plan to be back in a few hours as it is my turn to cook the Sunday roast and bake our daily bread ration. All of the base personnel take turns to cook evening meals, and culinary standards are impressively high. The base is well supplied with frozen, canned and dried food and at the moment we are still eeking out our supply of fresh produce that was delivered by the RSS James Clark Ross with the arrival of the new staff at first call 4 weeks ago.

So I’ll sign off now and pack up my camera in the hope that I might be able to take advantage of the good weather and the spectacular views. I hope that I will be able to post some photographs soon.