Whale Watching

Bird Island is quite literally teeming with life. The hillsides and meadows are filled with birds that perform courtship displays, build nests, and raise their young on the slopes above the base. Even underground there are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of birds raising their families deep in hillside burrows far from sight.  The steep cliffs of the northern edge of the Island are home to Shags and Turns who seem to enjoy a precipitous existence above the heaving swell far below and the beaches and streams are crammed with Fur Seals who have come ashore for the breeding season. On summer evenings penguins crowd the shores in every direction while the air above us is thick with the beating wings of Skuas, Kelp Gulls and Petrels. Given the density of wildlife ashore I can perhaps be forgiven for failing from time to time to focus on the vast ocean that surrounds us.  However it is only the richness of the ocean that makes life possible for the residents of Bird Island. It provides both food and shelter and its influence is felt in every aspect of island life.

It was to the ocean that my attention was drawn early one evening as I traversed the northern edge of the island. Scaling the rocky slopes of Gazella Peak I was transfixed by the huge icebergs that towered on the horizon like the skyline of some distant crystal city. We had been lucky enough to enjoy a close encounter with a much smaller ‘berg some weeks before as it became stranded in Freshwater Bay, but these were of a different scale entirely. Through binoculars I could see towering cliffs and icy valleys, an entire floating landscape that passed slowly by in the distance. As I looked to the horizon I was aware of a disturbance in the surface of the water closer to shore. At first I thought that it was merely waves breaking against one of the many rocky reefs around the island but as I watched I saw that it was moving and was followed by a second, smaller shape.  A dark form rose from beneath the water and realisation dawned with the characteristic spray of a whale’s breath. Slowly, almost languidly a mighty tail rose into the air and then slipped away as the creature dived. I was mesmerised. 

At 54 degrees South, Bird Island lies within the Southern Ocean. Bordered to the North by the Antarctic Polar Front it occupies the most northerly part of what is generically known as ‘The Antarctic.’  It is the ocean that sustains life on the island. It is a rich source of food for birds and mammals alike. Since the first significant controls on commercial whaling were introduced in the 1970s the whale population, once decimated, is slowly recovering. Southern Right Whales are not uncommon in the waters around Bird Island and it appeared that the pair I had sighted were mother and calf who had found food in the waters to the north of the island. They could be identified as Right Whales by the lack of dorsal fins (distinguishing them from humpbacks) and also by the broad triangular tail flukes that lacked the serrated appearance of other whales. As I watched I could see them repeatedly breaking the surface of the water to breathe before diving deeper, presumably in search of food. As the whales held their position in the current I found myself spellbound and it was at least 20 minutes until I had the presence of mind to radio to base and let the rest of the team know about our visitors. Interrupting dinner preparations, they grabbed boots and binoculars and headed up to the cliffs. It was gratifying to know that biologists whose careers revolve around the study of marine mammals can still get excited about the whales in our back garden.  

Over the past week I have made several trips back to Gazella Peak in the hope of catching further glimpses of the whales. On most occasions I have been rewarded, though they have kept their distance and I haven’t been treated to an encounter as intimate as the first. I am hoping that my voyage to the Antarctic Peninsula next month will bring more opportunities for spotting a wide range of whales and other cetaceans. In the meantime I will remember to keep a weather eye on the ocean as I go about the business of life here on Bird Island.