The captures took place during the overnight hours to reduce overall stress to the colony. The cormorant colony has a series of above-ground tunnels running through it; they allow access to the observation tower. Some of these tunnels have windows in them that are covered in landscaping cloth. They look like robot faces. You can see one of the "faces" in the tunnel in the picture below. The birds nest in the tires at the bottom of the windows. We opened the windows and quickly reached out to grab birds off their nests. The birds were then transported to the other end of the island where the surgeries took place.
This is a tunnel that goes from the beach (top) to the tower (bottom). The horizontal "spur" to the left of the main tunnel has the robot-faced windows.I helped out in the surgery Weatherport (a 10'x20' vinyl covered sturdy hut on a raised plywood platform). I helped weigh and measure the birds. I also held the birds as they awoke from anesthesia. Finally, I went to sleep in my tent at 4:30am then woke at 8:00am to meet the hunter for diet. After diet was finished, I came home and went to bed. I slept until noon the next day. Whew!
Holding a cormorant as it awoke from surgeryThe following weekend, I went to Dungeness Spit National Wildlife Refuge, near Sequim, WA on the Olympic Peninsula, to survey another Caspian tern colony. This colony is only about 500 birds. I saw two Arctic terns on the colony! I took some pictures of the lighthouse there.
Lighthouse and beach, Dungeness Spit Wildlife Refuge, Sequim, WASunday, June 8, was my day off. It was a beautiful, sunny day. I went out for breakfast then went over the bridge to Washington. There's a small marsh on the side of the road that I drive to the harbor in Chinook. I had wanted to photograph it for awhile, and this was the perfect day. I spent some time at the Sunday Market. I enjoyed a crepe with Nutella and bananas while the band played covers of Johny Cash. It was here that I ran into a woman, Joe Schoning, who knows my mother, step-father, father, and step-mother. It really is a small world...
The marsh on the side of the highway, wild irises in bloomThe very next day, the weather had turned bad (big surprise). It was windy, cloudy and rainy. As I left the house, I told Lauren (our crew leader) that I'd see her tomorrow. I was only half-joking. We were due back at the house at 18:00 the same day, but the wind was supposed to pick up to nearly 30mph. The estuary is no place to be in a 19-foot WorkSkiff in high winds.
By 11:00am the wind was gusting to nearly 40mph. Trees were sideways, grass was flat, and the roof on my blind was beginning to lift. I could hear the nails screeching as they were pulled up through the wood. I left the blind and headed for camp. Back at camp I checked on the Skiff; she was moored on the mooring ball just off the island. The Skiff was riding the waves like a cowboy being tossed around by the meanest bull a cowboy could ever draw. Her bow line was taught with the wind pulling and the waves were tossing her up and down violently. She took on water as her bow slammed down into the waves' troughs. She's a self-bilging boat, thank goodness! I headed back to camp and sat in the Weatherport until the storm subsided. Then, I checked on the boat, she was still there.
We all went about our normal duties on the island until it came time to leave. The weather was still terrible. The tide was high, which meant high, rolling waves on the beach, and there was a head wind to paddle into. I knew there was no way we were getting off the island that night. The two other guys were bent on trying, so I humored them. We paddled as hard and fast as we could, then the wind picked up as another storm came in. We were paddling in place, I yelled to abort the effort and turn back. They yelled to keep going. I finally turned and in a stern, hard voice yelled that we were turning back. It was too dangerous to keep trying and our zodiac was approaching a pile dike which would flip us over and trap us underwater in a split second. Safely on shore, and thoroughly soaked, we hauled the zodiac up the beach and went back to camp. I told the guys to prepare to spend the night on the island.
Now that that was all over, I was more relaxed and in dry clothes. Deanna called me. I was on the beach looking at the Skiff on her mooring ball while we were talking about boating accidents. I went up to the diet tent and talked for about 4 more minutes. As I was ending the call, I looked up at the mooring ball - the Skiff was gone. The Skiff. was. GONE!
About 50 yards east just past the pile dike, the skiff was bucking her way across the drink. I abruptly ended the call with Deanna and fumbled with my work phone to unlock it and call Lauren. Just then the phone rings. The colony monitor asked me to check on the boat because she thought she could see it from the blind (normally you can't see the boat moored on the ball). I called Lauren who called the Coast Guard. Lauren and another of my housemates sped over the bridge to Chinook to try to get to the Skiff. We grabbed a spotting scope and our binoculars and headed to high ground to get better angles on the direction of the Skiff. The Coast Guard called me and I directed their hard-hulled inflatable boat (complete with 50 caliber machine guns) in the direction of the Skiff. By the time they showed, the Skiff had already crossed the Chinook navigation channel and was heading into dangerous, shallow waters dotted with pilings - a place where no boat should ever go, manned or not. The Coast Guard couldn't get to our boat, but insisted on rescuing all of us off the island. I explained to the officer on the phone, "Sir, we live here. We have provisions, tents, sleeping bags, thermarests, propane, firewood and fire - enough for at least a week." "So....you're not in distress, ma'am?" "Well, physically, I'm great. Emotionally, I'm distressed. Our boat just floated away, unmanned...you see." "You don't need rescued then?" "No, no, sir, we're just fine." He gave me a lecture about how we have no business trying to retrieve the Skiff on this night and we should wait until the weather subsides. I concurred, thanked the man, and ended the call.
Just then Lauren calls as I'm watching the Skiff, still bucking across the angry waves. She's in the Prius and I can see the highway through the scope - it runs along the shore where the Skiff is heading. I watch the Prius drive by the area where the Skiff is projected to land several times. "Oooh, no, no, you just passed it, turn around and go back." Finally, they pull over and I count the number of telephone poles they need to drive past to find the boat. They were able to catch the Skiff before she slammed into rocks on the shore of Chinook roadside park. They anchored her to the shore as tight as they could to prevent the waves from tossing her into the rocks. It turned out the wind had been so strong, that the friction from the Skiff bucking around on the waves severed the bow line - a 3/4" sturdy nylon braid, twisted rope.
The next day we were picked up from the island. The wind had subsided but it was still cloudy and raining. We wedged lumber under the hull of the boat and cleared as many rocks as we could. We all heaved on counts of three and slid her over the lumber closer to the water, then we went home. We waited for high tide to come and went back. Another couple of heaves and she was floating. Luckily, she landed 100yards from a primitive boat ramp at the roadside park. We winched her up on the trailer and I took her back to the CORPS for an inspection and a good bath. Amazingly, she didn't have a scratch on her! No dents or dings, the motors were unscathed and the props were perfect. I couldn't believe it. Exciting, eh?
The Skiff on the beach. This was after we heaved her down toward the water. The tide had come way up as well. At low tide, the water would barely be visible in this photograph.
As usual, I have more to tell, but it's late and I have to be up extra early. Maybe I'll make another update tomorrow. Enjoy!
