During the salad days of the Cooper Island Black Guillemot colony, in the late 1980s, there were 200 wooden nest sites, which I had created in the late 1970s with wood left on the island by the Navy two decades earlier. All 200 nests were occupied by breeding pairs and the colony enjoyed high breeding success — in large part due to the close proximity of sea ice and Arctic Cod, the guillemot’s preferred prey. During that time of “no vacancy” status and high prey availability, the colony regularly had over 150 guillemot young fledge in a single year.
Black guillemots walk among their former homes -- discarded debris left by the debris left by the Navy in the 1950s.
Two decades later, in 2009, only one Black Guillemot fledged from Cooper Island out of the more than 180 that had hatched. The near complete nesting failure that year was the low point in what was a tough decade for Cooper Island guillemots. While the decrease in summer sea ice extent had reduced the availability of Arctic Cod and chicks were having a tough time getting by on sculpin, the larger problem was the nestling mortality indirectly related to loss of sea ice. Polar bears began to seek refuge and food on the island as they lost their summer sea ice habitat and the subarctic Horned Puffins investigated the melting and warming waters off northern Alaska. The bears ate large numbers of guillemot chicks while puffins, while prospecting nest cavities, killed a similar amount. The wooden nest sites that had protected generations of guillemots in earlier decades now were easily flipped by bears and invaded by puffins, with devastating effects on the colony’s productivity.
Once a rare bird in the Arctic, the Horned Puffin is now coming to Cooper Island in search of nest sites.
There appeared to be no easy solution to the loss of nestlings. Providing 200 nest sites capable of deterring a hungry polar bear seemed like an impossible task. While I had long ago come to accept a rapidly changing Arctic, I had hoped that a seabird colony that had provided evidence of earlier changes could persist to monitor the even more drastic anticipated changes. While packing some field gear in a heavy duty plastic case in early 2010 it occurred to me that with some modifications these plastic cases might provide a secure nest site for guillemots. Friends of Cooper Island bought ten cases that year and modified them by adding an entrance hole and partition to provide parents access and nestlings a protected nest cavity . The results that year were impressive (see accompanying graph) with almost all of the fledging young being raised in the new nest cases and wooden sites suffering the same problems with bears and puffins as in previous years.
Our 2010 small-scale trial led to a major urban renewal project in 2011 with all of the “historic” wooden nest sites being disassembled and replaced with 150 Nanuk Cases generously donated at cost by the manufacturer, Plasticase, a Canadian firm that happened to use the Inuit word for polar bear to name their brand of heavy duty plastic cases. The response of the guillemots to their new homes was overwhelmingly positive with over one hundred nestlings fledging in 2011. Parent birds clearly felt more secure incubating eggs in the new sites, rarely flushing during nest checks, and loss of nestlings to either bears or puffins was minimal.
The success in 2011 led to Friends of Cooper Island obtaining fifty more Nanuk cases in March of this year to bring the island back to the 200 nest cavities it had in the past. The cases arrived in Seattle in March where they were retrofitted by Jim Gamache and Max Czapanskiy and taken to Alaska Air Cargo for shipment to Barrow. I was surprised when the forklift operator at Alaska Airlines, remembering last year’s shipment, asked me how successful the cases had been at protecting the birds from polar bears.
Jim Gamache with modified Nanuk cases at Alaska Air Cargo.
A few days later Jim Gamache and I traveled to Barrow where with major assistance from the North Slope Borough’s Department of Wildlife Management we made the 25-mile trip out to Cooper Island in early April, over the ice in Elson Lagoon. While wind chills earlier in the week had been as cold as –25 degrees Fahrenheit, we lucked out by picking a day with little wind and temperatures up to almost 10 degrees Fahrenheit.
In Barrow Jim gets the Nanuk nest cases ready for transport to the island by sled.
In May the sea is still frozen enough to drive a snow machine out to the Cooper Island.
The island was snow-covered when we arrived and will be until until early June . Thankfully, bears had not broken into the cabin as they have in the past. Snow drifts on the island were 2-4 feet high hiding the colony completely with the cabin the only point of reference on the island. We left the 50 new Nanuk cases next to the cabin and in early June, Max Czapanskiy and I will put them in the colony as the birds are arriving.
It's May and snowdrifts still cover the cabin, but the new Nanuk nest boxes have made it.
It is not clear that the colony will increase to its historical levels, as issues with prey availability still have the potential of reducing productivity irrespective of those related to nest site integrity. Readers of this blog can check in during the summer to see how the additional nest cases are doing — and if you would like to have a personal connection with the project consider sponsoring a Nanuk nest case and receiving reports on the individual birds that occupy the site and their success in raising their young.
For the last two summers filmmaker, David Wright, has visited Barrow Alaska to work on a couple of climate change stories with George. Work is underway to produce a one hour film telling the story of George Divoky’s research on Cooper Island. This is the latest rough cut of the edit so here’s your chance to see a work in progress.
The film’s producers, biologist George Divoky, Friends of Cooper Island and others have assisted by providing over $30,000 in production costs, enabling the team to shoot most of the film. They need your help to complete the project. Visit Indie Gogo to find out how you can be a part of the production of An Uncertain Future.
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON — Declining daylight is a concern to many at this time of year as we turn our clocks back one hour and experience a stepwise decrease in late afternoon daylight while preparing for seven more weeks of increasing darkness. Day length in Seattle is now down to less than ten hours but is about twice what is being experienced by the guillemots that bred on (and, thanks to the new Nanuk nest cases, fledged from) Cooper Island this summer. The length of the guillemots’ days are on my mind this fall, and will be until next field season, because of an unexpected addition to the 2011 fieldwork that could be a major complement to what we know about Cooper Island guillemots.
Dr. Iain Stenhouse of the Biodiversity Research Institute, who has worked on arctic seabirds and now conducts research in Maine, contacted me in early August asking if I might be able to deploy six geolocators on the Cooper Island Black Guillemots. (BTW, for those only familiar with guillemots breeding in the nest boxes and cases on Cooper Island, this picture below of Iain’s study site in Maine, where guillemots breed in coastal rock rubble, demonstrates why the nest access on Cooper Island is so unique.)
Iain, Jennifer Goyette, and Lisa Eggert, of the Biodiversity Research (BRI) Institute looking for Maine guillemot nests on the coast of Maine. Credit: Jennifer Goyette
Geolocators are light-sensitive data loggers that measure and store data on the time of sunrise and sunset by day. The geolocators arrived on Cooper Island just as the nestling period was ending and we put them on six breeding adults using the same technique as Iain by attaching them to a plastic band of the sort used to color band individuals. Next spring after the birds are recaptured and the data downloaded, the daily latitude and longitude can be calculated using a process known as light-based geolocation. While not as accurate as systems that obtain a GPS position (accuracy for geolocators is in the region of +/-150 km) nor as handy as having a satellite transmitter, the geolocators can provide important information about migration routes, stopover areas and wintering locations — and for a rather reasonable cost per bird.
Close up of a geolocated on the leg of a black guillemot
The data from the geolocators on our study birds should provide some interesting information on individuals that until now we only could monitor during their three months at the Cooper Island colony. We assume we know the general area where Cooper Island black guillemots winter — the pack ice of the Western Arctic.
Map showing the extent of the Western Arctic winter pack ice where black guillemots spend the winter months, but where exactly we don't know. Red represents 80-100 percent ice cover and yellow represents marginal ice zone. Yellow pin shows the location of Cooper Island. Click on the map for a larger image.
Having survived the Last Glacial Maximum (approximately 25 thousand years ago) in an unglaciated part of the Arctic Basin, they became year-round residents of the Arctic, living in recurring cracks and other open areas in the pack ice during the winter months. In winter guillemots have been seen and collected as far north as Point Barrow, where wind and currents maintain some persistent open water, while some go into the Bering Sea as far south as the Pribilof Islands. But we have no idea exactly where any of the individual guillemots from Cooper Island might winter.
One of the problems of using geolocators on species that winter near the latitude of Cooper Island is that the sun is below the horizon for about 65 days, so wintering areas might have to be inferred from late fall and early spring locations. While anything the geolocators can tell us will be interesting, the most intriguing data might come from the periods immediately prior to and after the breeding season. Black guillemots are found next to the sea ice in the Chukchi Sea in fall and the data currently being obtained by the data loggers will, when compared with satellite imagery of ice cover, allow us to see just how much ice formation affects late fall movements. Similarly, what guillemots do from March to May before their June arrival at the colony is a complete mystery. In April, guillemots are in the lead off Barrow in numbers, but when they arrive there and how they get there (i.e. in rapid or gradual movements) is unknown.
Cooper Island guillemots off Barrow having arrived from unknown wintering areas. Credit: Kate Stafford
We had an exciting time deploying the geolocators in early September as we captured six breeding guillemots still provisioning their young. Waiting for the parent birds to return with fish was made all the more exciting by the presence of a sleeping polar bear. Next spring will be even more exciting as we capture the tagged birds when they return to their nest sites. Assuming normal overwinter mortality at least five of the birds should return next June. After downloading the data, we will send it to Iain Stenhouse for analysis and determination of locations.
It is likely that geolocators will be used again on Cooper Island. Assuming the 2011-2012 results show the utility of the technology, there are a number of specific topics that can be investigated. Since the formation and decomposition of the pack ice shows a good amount of annual variation, it would be worthwhile examining fall and spring movements in relation to variation in ice conditions. Additionally, outfitting some individuals for more than one year could provide insights into fidelity to wintering areas. And as often happens once the technology starts to inform us about previously little known aspects of natural history, there is always the chance of a major surprise that could prove previous assumptions incorrect. Some birds could undertake major migratory movements after breeding — or some could winter much further north in the pack ice than had been thought.
We are grateful to Iain Stenhouse for thinking of our study when he found he had a few extra geolocators as his field season was ending and it is likely that the 2011-2012 data from our black guillemots will be just the start of their use on Cooper Island.
lain places a geolocator on a black guillemot. Credit: Jennifer Goyette
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON — For the last decade the end of my field seasons on Cooper Island could be summarized by what is considered Shakespeare’s most famous stage direction, “Exit, pursued by a bear”. It all started in 2002, when the North Slope Borough Search and Rescue helicopter had to pluck us off the island early one morning after we spent a long night taking a short-course in polar bear deterrence. More recent retreats from the island have been less dramatic but no less emotional. In 2008-2010 we maintained our daily measuring of guillemot nestlings while polar bears reduced their numbers nightly, breaking camp shortly after the last of the chicks was consumed. The 2011 season did not lack for bears and I am a long way from becoming blasé about their presence (or the reasons for it) but unlike past years the recently completed field season ended on a positive note due to our deployment of bear-proof nest cases.
A polar bear investigates this season's new bear-proof nest boxes.
My cabin has been protecting me since 2002 with the camp “compound” now all the more secure with the recent addition of electric fences. This was the first year that the guillemot nestlings were similarly “bear-proofed,” as the new nest cases allowed them to survive until fledging and gave me the opportunity to monitor chick growth and prey items through early September. The cases had the additional and unexpected benefit of preventing puffins from entering guillemot nest cavities and displacing eggs and killing chicks. In recent years disturbance by bears and puffins resulted in the death of the majority of nestlings.
The 2011 field season also was unique due to its findings and new research initiatives. These included:
An early August switch from Arctic cod to sculpin by parents provisioning their young so that some nestlings were raised almost completely on sculpin
The ability of the majority of parents to provide enough sculpin of suitable size that many guillemot nestlings enjoyed high growth rates and fledging weights despite the absence of Arctic cod
A successful trial deployment of temperature and depth loggers, attached to the bands on guillemot legs, which allow monitoring of feeding activities
A trial deployment of geolocators that record time of sunrise and sunset should allow us to track the post-breeding and early spring movements of black guillemots when we remove the data loggers from birds next summer.
There is much to share about each of these and I will be writing blogposts on them in the coming weeks.
While the field season and its findings were exciting and rewarding, listening to both local and national news on the radio in my cabin (and catching up on news after I returned from the field), made me aware that northern Alaska will very soon be seeing large scale oil and gas development, increasing vessel traffic and, eventually, development of a commercial fishery – in addition to the ongoing changes caused by reductions in sea ice.
The new nest cases that allow guillemot parents to raise their young to fledging and the potential for monitoring guillemot activity and movement with data loggers means that future research on Cooper Island can focus on guillemots as indicators of ecosystem health and change at a critical time for the region. Maintaining the Cooper Island study is now all the more important as the guillemots monitor a period of rapid change in the marine waters of arctic Alaska.
Guest blogger: David Wright, Luna Sea Films David Wright is a documentary filmmaker with over 20 years experience shooting wildlife and science stories for clients including the BBC, Discovery and National Geographic.
COOPER ISLAND, ALASKA — My flight arrived in Barrow, Alaska, on what the locals said was the best day in the last ten years. Blue sky and 60 degree temperatures greeted me, heralding a great trip out to Cooper Island. I was returning after visiting George in July of 2010, while shooting a story for the new BBC series “Frozen Planet“. After gathering supplies in town I was offered a ride out to the island on a boat conducting a bowhead whale survey. Its mission is to monitor the annual migration of these animals to a feeding ground around six miles north of the Cooper Island, a reminder of the abundant population of krill & plankton that occur just off shore and which are the basis of the food chain throughout the Arctic.
I return to the 10x12 cabin where I stayed in 2010 during the filming of the BBC documentary "Frozen Planet". For the next three weeks this cabin will again be my home. Credit: George Divoky
Before we could even see the Cooper, the silhouette of George’s cabin appeared on the horizon, then George’s outline as he was checking nest sites, followed by the low profile of the island itself. It was great to step off the boat and back onto Cooper once again. The mission for the next three weeks would be to shoot our climate change documentary based on George’s four decades of work on Cooper Island. After enjoying a great dinner prepared in the 10×12 cabin that would be home for the trip, I headed out to shoot a glorious sunset. I am glad I got the shots, as it would be the last time we would see a sunset for the entire trip. The good weather that welcomed me to the Arctic was gone. For the next three weeks fog banks swept across the island with only brief views of the sun.
My first night I witnessed a glorious sunset. For the next three weeks fog became the norm. Credit: David Wright
The island and the research had changed from the 2010 season. All the old nest sites were flipped over and George has replaced them with adapted Nanuk cases that are proving to be both polar bear and puffin proof. George has also been busy fitting TDR’s (temperature depth recorders) to some of his birds. Equipped with these miniature devices the research data was no longer restricted to observations on the island. The birds would bring back second by second information from their feeding forays into the surrounding oceans. As the days progressed they began delivering fascinating data about how deep they were diving to find food and ocean temperature. This is then combined with images taken by remote camera monitoring their nest sites, showing us what species of fish they are bring back for the chicks. Over the coming years, this new development to the Cooper Island research will provide a growing insight into the changing conditions in the Beaufort Sea and how it relates to climate.
The wooden boards of the old nest sites can be seen behind the polar bear and puffin proof Nanuk nest sites. George's cabin is in the background. Credit: David Wright
Workdays on the island are always long for George. After checking data from his TDR birds each morning, nest checks begin. I continue to be amazed at his dedication. Whatever the weather, George never misses a day. Amongst this busy schedule he patiently made time for me to follow him with my camera to document the work, never phased by the many questions I bombarded him with along the way. We captured the many moods of the island from fog to sun as George relentlessly weighed and measured chicks.
George holds one of this year's chicks which is ready to fledge. Credit: David Wright
Now the second week of August, the reality of introducing the Nanuk cases set in. For the last few years starving polar bears, or territorial invasions by horned puffins, meant that many of the chicks would already have been killed. This year was shaping up to be different. In 2010, less than a dozen fledglings made it to the ocean, this year there was a potential for more than 200. A great success for the birds, but it also means George’s workload remains constant. Instead of complaining, his excitement about the new data he is collecting fuels his enthusiasm for the work, each day filled with revelations about changes in the type of fish being brought back to the colony, growth rates and how the weather is influencing this. The only anxiety was by the fact that the edge of pack ice was now out to the continental shelf, at least 150 miles from the island. With no shallow water beneath the ice, seals and walrus head for shore, followed by the now annual migration of polar bears seeking sanctuary on islands like Cooper.
Two black guillemot eggs. Credit: David Wright
The relentless heavy workload of checking nests would now be punctuated by continual scanning of the horizon for a bear reaching the island after their epic swim to shore. On August 13, amongst a thick fog enveloping the island, evidence of the first bear to visit the colony during my trip reminded us of how stealthy they can be. A bear had turned over a nest box, failed to take the chicks and walked away. Despite us being close, we had seen nothing. It was a cautious walk back to the cabin that night, but once inside the safety of the electric fence, a good night’s sleep is no problem after the exertions of a day spent walking on the sand and gravel, buffeted by the perpetually damp easterly wind. Our guess was that the bear was also bedded down for the night after swimming more than 150 miles to shore from the retreating pack ice.
A paw print is evidence that a polar bear was on the island. Credit: David Wright
The next day dawned with no fog and good visibility. Across the flat terrain of the island, no bears were visible so I headed to the west end to look for tracks. Sure enough, a bear had swum to the island, but appeared to have walked to the colony and then doubled back. It then must have headed out to sea to swim for the mainland. Then I noticed something large on the beach. Wondering if it was another bear sleeping on the beach, it seemed odd as the waves were breaking over the curled up animal. For a while the mirage effect caused by temperature differentials of the air, land and sea made the shape dance around in a way that made it impossible to identify. Then it moved and the tell-tale tusk of a walrus emerged as the animal rolled onto its back. As it turned out, this was the first recorded sighting of a walrus on the island during George’s four decades of visits. As with the changing fortunes of the guillemot colony, this is also a sign of the times. To the west at Point Lay, several thousand walrus have started to haul out on the beaches once the sea ice retreats. Left with no other places to rest, they head to the mainland to stay within reach of their feeding grounds.
A rare sunny day on Cooper Island. Credit: David Wright
With 2011 mirroring the ice retreat of 2007, it is shaping up to be a record breaking year with the least volume of sea ice covering the Arctic basin. This has dramatic consequences for the animals that rely on the ice to help them find food or shelter, and not just bears and walrus, but everything in the food chain.
August 15 brought clearer skies, and as I sat filming the birds in the colony and George working near by, we heard the approach of a helicopter. The local radio station, KBRW, our life line to the outside world, had mentioned that USGS were doing an aerial polar bear count along the coast. They dropped by for a quick visit and let us know that they had spotted a bear on the next island to the west. Sure enough, four hours later the same bear arrived at camp as we were eating dinner. A small dye mark on its back confirmed it was the bear seen by the USGS team. Appearing to be a young male, and in good condition, he continued to a tundra patch east of the cabin and disappeared into the fog.
Filming on Cooper Island Credit: David Wright
Now wanting to keep an eye out for bears in the area, I had an urge to check the colony before turning in. By chance, a bear was walking down the beach line and amongst the nest sites. We agreed it appeared to be a different bear, larger and with the proportions of a more mature male. He also made his way to the tundra patch but still in sight from the cabin. Finding a small gully for shelter, he lay down to sleep and would not move again for the next 28 hours.
A visiting polar bear made himself comfortable in this gully and took a nap. He slept for 28 hours to rest up after his long swim to the island. Credit: David Wright
Once our latest visitor departed, the work filming George monitoring the colony continued. With a bear free day, we could focus on the plight of the chicks in the continuing volatile weather conditions. The wind was swinging from the east, all the way to the west, and the parents seemed to be a challenge finding fish. Chick weights were dropping, especially those of the smaller beta chicks that were second in line to be fed. George was noting feathers plucked from these smaller chicks, a sign of sibling aggression during this time of reduced feedings.
The next day brought calmer weather, but this too brought a new challenge for us. George runs the camp on a combination of wind and solar power that charges a bank of batteries. With fog and cloud, and now no wind, we would have to ration our much needed charging of radios, camera batteries and computer equipment.
Late evening, our bear from two days ago reappeared, easily identifiable from its unique dye spot on its neck after being marked by the USGS survey team. Making his way through the colony and checking nest sites, he managed to flush an adult bird from a nest box and caught it under his paw, before killing and eating his victim. The bear continued through the colony and to the camp. With the protection provided by the electric fence and the cabin, we were in little danger. The inquisitive bear came close enough to touch the fence. Shocked, but not seeming to be unduly upset by the experience, he once again walked away into the night, his curiosity satisfied.
An evening visit from a polar bear, just before checking to see if the electric fence was on. Credit: George Divoky
As morning arrived we ventured out into the colony to see what damage the bear had done. On the way to the box where we saw him catch the adult, we noticed that he had tried to break into four others, but failed to get to the chicks. A testament to the success of introducing the cases to ensure the birds’ safety. At the fifth case, the parent bird had been unlucky enough to have been paying a visit when the bear arrived. The chicks survived unscathed, but the bear had caught the adult, then carefully eaten the organ meat and left the muscle tissue. They always seem to seek out the fatty parts of their prey.
This was no doubt a sad moment for George as he checked the bands on the dead bird and recognized that it was an adult that had hatched on the island and had returned to breed. Even with this fatality, the boxes are still proving to be an amazing success as this bear could have eaten scores of chicks in just one visit. Instead, he quickly decided that his efforts would be best focused elsewhere.
Two black guillemots sit atop a polar bear proof Nanuk nest box. Credit: David Wright
As George began his nest checks for the day, I focused my attentions on the large flocks of red phalaropes gathering on the island. Massing by the thousands, they presented a spectacular scene as the moving flocks caught the light; George also framed in the background as he weighed chicks. Ever vigilant, and feeling a little exposed as I lay flat on the ground to film the birds, I happened to look beyond George to the beach just as a female bear crested the bank. Shaking her fur, she had just emerged from the ocean. Warning George of the potential danger, we retreated to the safety of the cabin.
This bear was cleaner than the others we had seen and its shape suggested it was a mature female. In years gone by, a female of this age would likely have had cubs accompanying her. With the clean fur it is likely she had spent little or no time on land and had likely swum the more than 150 miles from the pack ice. In the last few years, George has seen none of these females arriving with cubs. Many of the youngsters are simply too small to manage the long swim to land, an issue that must be drastically impacting polar breeding success.
After failing to find any nests in natural sites, this bear departed east and our work in the colony then continued until around 8 p.m. Although several hundred yards apart, both George and I suddenly realized there was another bear off to our east that was sleeping on a raised area. Its bulk and color meant it was not the female, but another animal that had walked to the spot while both of us had been concentrating on the birds. He posed no threat because of his distance from us and appeared to be in a deep sleep, but we quickly finished the tasks at hand and retired to the safety camp for the night.
Another polar bear visitor Credit: George Divoky
As night fell the bear awoke after 26 hours of sleep. It seems they require this amount of time to recover from swimming to shore. Making his way near camp, he appeared tired and lay down again to sleep for another hour, just enough time for us to make, and eat, our evening meal. As we finished, the bear slowly made his way by camp, swaying his head in a way that is normally used as a territorial display. Bypassing the guillemot colony he made his way to the end of a spit south of us and waded across a lagoon to a distant sand bar, then off into the night, beginning his long search for food.
Dawn greeted us with the the now predictable 40 degree temperatures, another foggy day that seems to be this year’s prevailing condition. Waves were also cutting into the beach showing just how dynamic a barrier island like Cooper can be, especially as they are no longer protected by a sea ice that would have traditionally acted like a breakwater to protect the shoreline. The sand and gravel is eroded and re-deposited so that shape of the island continually evolves.
An Arctic storm. Due to wave erosion, the shape of the island continues to change. Credit: David Wright
As the local NPR station brought us news of the growing global financial melt down, global stock prices seemed to be as erratic as the weights of guillemot chicks. I wondered whether chick weight might be as good a way to gauge the well being of the economy as the S&P 500 or Dow, both seemed equally volatile. This quickly seemed a million miles away while on George and I worked on the edge of the Arctic focusing on the daily plight of the animals that call Cooper Island home.
The black guillemots of Cooper Island. Credit: David Wright
With just a few days to go, I set out to capture the remaining shots we need to make our film and began to repack gear for the trip home. The boat taking me off would deliver George’s partner Catherine for her annual visit. Thanks to the boating skills, and kindness of biologist Craig George, a long time Barrow resident, the transfer went smoothly. My long trip home now began, but as I write I only made it to Anchorage. Flights to the east coast are completely cancelled due to hurricane Irene.
It is somewhat ironic to have been at “ground zero” for climate change in the Arctic and have weather delay my return to my home in Maine, but this may be the new normal. Data suggest that more unpredictable and extreme weather events are occurring each year and can be linked to global warming. It is no longer an abstract process happening at the poles, it is knocking on the door of everyone in North America, as well as the rest of the world.
COOPER ISLAND, ALASKA — While it seems like I have been at the Cooper Island black guillemot colony forever, there was actually a time when I did not spend the summer in Arctic Alaska wearing long underwear and worrying about polar bears for three months. George E. Watson, who was then a curator of birds at the Smithsonian Institution, played a pivotal role in getting me to the Alaskan Arctic in 1970, and to my finding the Cooper Island black guillemot colony in 1972. Last week George turned 80 years old and (while at this point of the summer it feels like I was born on Cooper Island) it is important for me to acknowledge (and thank him) for providing the opportunity to visit here almost four decades ago.
1970 was one of the last summers I spent in the Lower 48. That year I had an internship at the Smithsonian Institution in the Division of Birds. Having gained an interest in seabirds the previous year, when I spent the summer making shipboard observations in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, a Smithsonian summer program for graduate students gave me the opportunity to work with one of the few Americans then working with seabirds, George E. Watson. I had no idea the first day I walked from my Capitol Hill room to The Mall (in 90 degree temperatures) that the conversations that day would forever change my summers and much of the rest of my next four decades.
Dr. George E. Watson
I found “Dr. Watson” to be both genial and witty as he welcomed me to the Bird Division, found me a spare desk, and then took me to his office, where he told me that earlier in the week he had been contacted by the Coast Guard, which was looking for a bird and mammal observer to participate in cruises off northern Alaska. Oil had been discovered at Prudhoe Bay in the late 1960s, and the Coast Guard wanted to sponsor a scientific cruise in the Beaufort Sea before development of the oil field. Knowledge of the physical and biological oceanography of the region was minimal, and since construction of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline was being held up in the courts, there was consideration of transporting the oil by sea. Pre-impact studies were needed for a range of things, including the region’s seabirds.
As George was outlining the research opportunity of the cruises to me it was clear from the look on his face that he knew exactly how his presentation would affect me. As he asked me if I would like to participate in that year’s September cruise, with the potential of going on summer cruises in the two following years, he was grinning broadly, knowing that the chance I would decline the offer or tell him I would have to consider were nil.
That September George and I flew to Point Barrow and boarded the USCG icebreaker GLACIER. We spent the next month on the ship’s flying bridge as it moved through the waters of the eastern Chukchi Sea. Sea ice cover in the Beaufort Sea was so extensive that we were unable to proceed to the intended study area off Prudhoe Bay – demonstrating how ice conditions have changed in the past four decades.
Having George’s company on board ship, and certainly during the long periods observing from the flying bridge, spoiled me for what to expect for conversation and camaraderie in the Arctic. George had a wealth of stories about seabirds, ornithologists and his various travels to the Antarctic (where he had done most of his seabird research) and the Grecian islands (where he traveled due to his interest in classical languages, and became interested in the area’s avifauna). While George and I were cruising through flocks of Ross’ and Ivory gulls, pods of walrus, and even the occasional black guillemot (that even then I found fascinating as they fed in the spaces between ice floes), he would (as the number of sightings increased) frequently say, “And thick and fast they come at last. And more and more and more.” I learned, only recently, that the lines come from the poem “The Walrus and the Carpenter” in Lewis Carroll’s “Alice: Through the Looking Glass”. I have no idea if George was quoting it because of the close proximity of large numbers of walrus. But he said this phrase often enough that now, 40 years later on Cooper Island, on a day when lots of guillemot chicks are hatching or sculpin are being brought in by all the guillemot parents, I will find myself saying “And thick and fast …”.
In the pivotal summer of 1972, when I found the Cooper Island black guillemot colony in early July, George did not join the cruise until later that month. He was with me on Cooper Island in August, when I found that a wooden structure I had turned over earlier in the summer now housed an adult guillemot incubating two eggs. I remember shouting out to let George know of my discovery, and as he approached he took out his camera and told me to point to the nest site. The black and white image he obtained really documents the start of this long-term study and — when I show it in a presentation — is always a reminder to me of the role that “Dr. Watson” played in my getting to Alaska and to Cooper Island.
The start of the long-term study
I wish him well on the occasion of his 80th birthday, and send Dr. George Watson my thanks for the opportunity he provided in the early 1970s, and for his companionship during my first three years in the Arctic.
COOPER ISLAND, ALASKA — I had no idea when I decided to provide 150 Nanuk plastic cases to protect the Cooper Island black guillemots how much the new nest sites would change the 2011 field season for both the birds and me. It was clear that I would need to arrive at the colony earlier than usual so that Penelope Chilton and I could dismantle the traditional wooden sites that were remnants from a 1950’s Navy camp and replace them with the new nest cases.
Black guillemots at the nest sites originally built by George out of World War II Navy debris.
What I had not anticipated was the amount of individual variation the guillemots would demonstrate in their adoption and use of the nest cases. Some pairs moved into the sites within hours of their deployment while others visited the site once or twice and then moved off to prospect elsewhere in the colony — apparently looking for something that looked more like their traditional site. There was also an issue of asymmetry of response within a pair. In some cases one member of a pair quickly occupied the site but its mate was initially wary of entering and took several days to join its partner. The wide range of responses was reflected in the dates of egg laying with some late adopters laying eggs four weeks after the initial egg in the colony. That led to the unprecedented occurrence of having chicks hatching in some nests while eggs were being laid in others.
The first egg of the season and the first to be laid in the new nest box.
While the nest cases were obtained primarily to address the issue of late-season predation by polar bears, they have also greatly facilitated the capture of adults and my access to eggs and chicks. In the past the array of random wooden structures used to make the original nest sites on the island meant that nest access would frequently require a complicated series of maneuvers in moving multiple pieces of wood and then pivoting the structure the correct way to ensure the safety of eggs or chicks. Incubating or brooding parents would flush off the nest during this process so we kept nest checks to a minimum and would frequently wait until the nest was not attended. With the new nest cases, however, it is possible to lift the lid of the case just high enough to see the nest interior, with little or no disturbance of birds. Additionally, the parent birds feel so secure in the Nanuk cases that their bands can easily be read and, if they have not yet been banded, can be captured and given a combination of color bands. At this point only two of the approximately 240 birds on the island are unbanded, the highest percentage in the history of the study.
The new "nest" are easier to access without disturbing its occupants.
The security of the sites is also the reason why hatching success is apparently going to be very high. That has kept me quite busy for the past two weeks — and because of the protracted egg laying will keep me busy monitoring hatching for two more weeks. Having a large number of chicks on the island in August is important since that is when the pack ice now retreats well north of Cooper. Monitoring the prey that parents bring their young and nestling weight changes as the ice retreats provide important information on how the marine waters of the Arctic are changing during a period of unprecedented ice retreat.
Post and photos by guest blogger, Greg O’Corry-Crowe
COOPER ISLAND, ALASKA — Mid July and I finally get the opportunity to visit Cooper Island and its birds and to work with George Divoky. Over the years George and I had discussed ways to collaborate. If we could only put his unique four-decade long study of black guillemots and their environment together with investigations of their DNA, we could fill in some key gaps in this unique study of a seabird against a backdrop of dramatic environmental change. These discussions ramped up into real plans last fall and now I was speeding across Elson lagoon towards Cooper in a skiff on a clear sunny morning.
Sabine's gull on Cooper Island
Wildlife Biologist Jason Herreman and his seal tagging crew from the North Slope Borough Department of Wildlife Management had generously offered to ferry me out to the island on one of their day trips from Barrow. As if by way of introduction of things to come we found ourselves increasingly in the company of seabirds. Loons effortlessly kept pace with our boat, eiders wheeled across our path, terns hovered overhead … and now and then the distinctive small black alcid, with the white wing patches, angled past at speed. Eventually, a small cabin was sighted on the horizon, the only relief other than pack ice on an otherwise flat land and seascape. As we closed in, a lone figure approached. Bobby Sarren steered us through the shallows to the beach where I met George and we helped Jason and assistant Ross unload my gear, a care package for George, and stakes and wire to erect a “bear hair sampling” fence as part of a genetic investigation. The only instructions: “Erect a fence around locations bears were likely to take an active interest in … such as your cabin!”
Black guillemots displaying their distinctive white patches and red feet.
Instantly doubling the human population of Cooper Island, I worked with George to cart the gear across the flat, sandy island back to base. With the recent addition of an 8′ x 12′ cabin ringed now by two electrified bear fences, the once tented camp was in danger of becoming a comfortable compound! I was instantly struck by how accessible the birds were, especially the guillemots. Their behavior and ecology was fascinating, and their striking plumage and coloring added to their charm. I was also struck by how tangible the bigger ecosystem-level questions were … that is once you got past the logistical hurdles!
The possibilities began to accumulate quickly in my mind. Over the next four days I worked with George, checking his new “nest boxes”, catching and banding birds, collecting data, monitoring egg production and hatching rates … and beginning a comprehensive genetic sampling regime. More importantly, perhaps, we spent much of our time in conversation — something one tends to do a lot in George’s presence — exploring ways to develop new avenues of research, working out the logistics behind these ideas, brainstorming about funding opportunities, etc.
It was clear by the end of this exploratory trip that this long-term study was both unique and important for several reasons. Apart from the obvious value that a study of this magnitude has in terms of resolving fundamental questions about bird ecology, behavior and adaptation and about ecosystem structure, and as well as the rarity of such studies in an extreme environment like the Arctic, the location, time-fame and subject of this study propel it to another level entirely. Through the continued study of this bird population and its environment we have a unique opportunity to understand how changes in the physical environment and human activities impact entire ecosystems. Ironically, perhaps, this opportunity may be one of the best ways to understand something even more fundamental — how ecosystems actually work.
George bands a black guillemot for identification and then let's it fly free.
Another major reason is of course the scientist who was conducting the study. George’s breathe of interest and understanding for both the details and the big picture comes from years of observation and thought — something a self-imposed seasonal exile on an Arctic island encourages. However, it’s also his energy and enthusiasm for his work. And this comes simply from George, himself, and it is my belief that these kinds of investigations are only possible when a certain type of individual, a George if your will, dreams them up and takes them on.
COOPER ISLAND, ALASKA — During this part of the black guillemot nesting cycle, while up to 120 pairs incubate eggs in nest cases, birds are active and visible in the colony only from approximately midnight to noon. The birds not attending eggs spend the other half of the day feeding offshore, returning to the island in the very early morning to assume incubation duties, in the case of breeders, or to prospect for potential mates and nest sites, in the case of nonbreeders. To maximize the period of time I observe the guillemots in the colony, I need to wake up shortly before their arrival at midnight. While each year it is always a challenge to adopt this somewhat inverted daily sleep/wake cycle, there are a number of benefits — one primarily aesthetic. For the 4-6 hours when the sun is at its lowest elevation, Cooper Island, which presents a well-lit, but monochromatic palette of flat tans and grays at high noon, is bathed in the warm glow of an extended “sunset,” with shadows adjacent to anything that offers even the slightest vertical relief.
Last Thursday as I began my fieldwork I discovered another advantage of the high contrast nocturnal light. A series of fresh polar bear tracks was clearly visible as shadows in the sand leading from the north beach to my campsite. Following the tracks back to the camp I saw that the bear had leisurely approached the new outer perimeter electric fence and then apparently touched it, likely with its nose. The bear’s tracks leading from the camp indicated it then quickly turned and ran for about 50 yards, based on the length of its stride and angle of paw prints.
Bears were rare on Cooper Island for the first 28 years of this study and last week’s incident demonstrated just how much things have changed since they started to regularly visit the island in 2002. In that year we lived in only the weatherport (the tan Quonset-like structure that is still part of camp) and 2-3 personal tents for sleeping. The lack of security offered by those dwellings and, most importantly, the bears that forced us to abandon the camp in 2002, were the reasons we obtained an 8×12 foot cabin in 2003. While the cabin greatly increased the level of security and comfort, the now regular polar bear visits meant we still had curious bears examining the cabin’s exterior just a few feet from where we slept. To keep the bears a bit further away from our cabin, last year we installed an electric-net fence, of the kind that is used to contain livestock in warmer climes. It functioned well and greatly increased our feeling of security but provided a minimum perimeter. A longer fence was installed this year; big enough to enclose our entire “infrastructure” as well as the few guillemot nest sites associated with the camp. Based on the evidence provided by the polar bear tracks last week the new fence passed its first test.
The cabin surrounded by an electric fence.
The need for ever-increasing levels of polar bear deterrence in the past decade is a direct result of the substantial decreases in the polar bear’s primary summer habitat, the arctic pack ice. While polar bears have been my neighbors on Cooper Island since I first came here in 1975, until recently they were where they wanted to be: on the ice eating fat seals, with no reason to visit a barren sand and gravel spit with limited foraging opportunities. Now as the summer pack ice rapidly declines some bears abandon the ice in late July and August, swimming to islands and the mainland, which provides them a stable substrate (though not a stable food source) until freeze-up in late fall. Remarkably, some of the people who try to minimize or refute the reality of the melting Arctic will mention the recent increased occurrence and sightings of polar bears on land as evidence that the species is doing well, rather than seeing it as a sign that the species is losing its preferred habitat.
Last week’s bear visit was among the earliest I have had. Unlike the bears that swim to the island in August, this bear appeared to just be curious, showing no interest in the guillemot nest sites and the eggs and adults they contained. A few days after the bear visit I was reminded why bears have little reason to visit Cooper Island when pack ice is extensive. A scan of the ice north of island revealed over 400 ringed seals hauled out on the ice. Each of the seals likely had more fat than the entire black guillemot colony .
Over 400 ringed seals hauled out on the ice. Each of the seals likely had more fat than the entire black guillemot colony .
We are entering a critical period of pack ice retreat and the extent of that retreat will determine whether the bears will be able to remain on the ice in August or if some will swim to Cooper Island as has occurred for much of the past decade.
COOPER ISLAND, ALASKA — The subtitle of Darcy Frey’s 2002 NY Times Magazine article on the early impacts of climate change seen on Cooper Island, referred to me as a “lonely scientist at the end of the earth”. This wording was likely the work of an editor, who wanted to portray the “forlorn” qualities inherent in the word “lonely” and the phrase “end of the earth”. A more accurate (but less romantic) wording would be a “solitary scientist at the top of the world”. While it is true that I have spent weeks and months alone on the island without company, it is important to note that the Cooper Island research has benefitted greatly from a number of collaborators and coworkers who have played a major role in maintaining the fieldwork since 1975.
Penelope Chilton (read Penelope’s post: The adventure begins.), who left the island in Gary Quarles’ helicopter in late June, is the last in a line of over two dozen people who have helped check nests, band adults, and weigh chicks while both enjoying and enduring the realities of the Arctic supported by an “infrastructure” that, until recently, consisted of a small tent, a Coleman stove and lantern. Penelope’s three week stay on the island (in the relative luxury of a shared 8×12 foot cabin) demonstrated again how my experience on the island is enhanced by the camaraderie of an enthusiastic colleague. After forty years in the Arctic I still am awed by much of what I see and experience on the island, but my enjoyment of fieldwork is certainly enhanced by working with someone who is discovering their first black guillemot egg or close encounter with a Sabine’s gull defending its nest.
Penelope in front of the 8x12 foot cabin.
With few exceptions the people who have worked with me have been infatuated with birds and realized how unique it is to arrive on an island surrounded by pack ice where one could study in detail the life history of individual seabirds that spend the majority of their lifetime north of the Arctic Circle. Their appreciation of both the birds and the setting is important when dealing with the physical and emotional challenges of working at an isolated camp. While the 24 hours of sunlight serve to increase serotonin levels, facilitating harmonious social interactions, the nearly constant wind, freezing temperatures and minimal creature comforts can certainly increase stress hormones. These counteracting forces can result in an emotional rollercoaster ride. Maintaining perspective requires an emotional maturity that, with few exceptions, my coworkers have had.
George on Cooper Island. The island's nearly constant wind, freezing temperatures and minimal creature comforts can certainly increase stress hormones.
During the course of my daily fieldwork there are constant reminders of the individuals who have contributed to the study. The nest sites that Maggie Ford and Tom Scharffenberger built in 1978 were only decommissioned last month when they gave way to the new polar bear proof nest cases. The large nest site that Buzz Haddow almost dropped on my head while I was weighing a chick in the 1990s was also recently retired. Bob Boekelheide’s efforts to protect nest sites from a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) “clean up crew” in 1976 are still evident from the markers he attached to the sites. Every day I walk past the location where Evan deBourguignon and I realized that, unlike the preceding five bears we had seen that day, we were not going to back down a curious young polar bear and would have to abandon our camp (in darkness at 3 a.m.).
A black guillemot in front of one of the decommissioned nests.
Many of the Cooper Island field assistants have gone on to have careers in biological research, resource management and conservation while some have pursued other areas of interest and/or employment. A few have expressed an interest in coming back to visit Cooper Island and anyone who was out here before the turn of the century would be astonished at the changes. The beach has eroded a quarter mile at the site of our original campsite in the 1970s and 1980s. Dedicated monitors of Arctic tern chicks (including Karen Oakley, Katie Hirsch and Teya McElroy), when 75 pairs bred on the island all endured regular strikes in the head from parents defending their young, but now would likely be saddened to see the tern colony reduced to just a few pairs. And everyone would be shocked to find that the vegetated “tundra patch”, that used to be home to a small number of breeding shorebirds and a diverse plant community, now supports 200 breeding black brant and their abundant young, who have covered the area with their droppings.
A black brant nest with eggs.
Luckily for me, one of the field assistants who has expressed an interest in returning to the island is Penelope. In the next two months she will be working on data entry while in Seattle before heading to the Antarctic for her second season of research on penguins and skuas.
It would be excessive to name all of the people who have spent time with me on the island and it is probably simplest to say that they know who they are and I thank them for their help. If any of them are reading this and we have not communicated recently, I would love to hear from you and know that you are welcome to stop by the island any time.
For nearly 40 years Dr. George Divoky has traveled to remote Cooper Island in the Arctic. Braving the elements and the occasional polar bear, his mission is to study the Black Guillemots — research which is contributing to the understanding of climate change on wildlife in Arctic.
Penelope, originally from the landlocked state of Utah, somehow found her way to the Pacific coast and the unlikely world of seabird research. Her interest in seabirds began during her yearlong stint as a janitor at McMurdo Station, Antarctica.
Penelope graduated from the University of Washington with a BS in Environmental Science and Resource Management and she has worked for the Coastal Observation and Seabird Survey Team (COASST) project. During her time at COASST she also worked for the Friends of Cooper Island, seeing the numerical changes of the Arctic as she entered over 30 years of George Divoky’s data into Excel Spreadsheets.
In October of 2010 she made her way back to Antarctica, this time she left her mop and bucket behind, and worked as a Field Technician on a long-term penguin monitoring study. Currently she is working for Friends of Cooper Island and will, for the first time, be on Cooper Island putting in Polar Bear proof nest boxes and banding adult breeding birds.
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