June 29, 2009

6-29-09

Most evenings on deck we have been able to encounter a part of the Bering Sea wildlife that I had not experienced before. Last night’s krill tow was no different. While we were waiting for the nets to be pulled back up, a bird possibly caught in a strong gust of wind swooped by our heads and almost ran into the cabin of the ship. We were a bit concerned, but our winged friend corrected its path and rejoined the flock cruising next to the side of the ship. Tracy informed us that the lights of the ship can sometimes disorient the birds as they fly at night. That made sense to me since I have opened the bathroom door into my face more than once while my eyes adjust to turning on a light in the dark.

I looked down at the deck and noticed another bird that had landed onboard and was crouching beneath some stairs. Tracy picked it up and said some comforting words while stroking the birds head to calm it down. It was unclear if the bird was hurt or was just resting from the windy weather. The bird was a petrel, dark grey with some white stripes on its wings. It almost looked like a seabird version of a pigeon, with a little more grace and class. Tracy placed the bird into a box to rest for a bit to see if it could build up enough strength to return to the air.

My mother has always been a big bird enthusiast. I remember she would pull the car over to the side of the road if she saw a majestic individual hunting quietly in a pond or marsh. “Shhh, it’s a great blue heron” she would say, despite the fact that we were in the car unable to make a loud enough noise to disturb the bird a hundred feet away. “Look at how still it is while it waits for food.” Since I was five and couldn’t stand sitting still for more than two seconds, I thought it must be awful to be a great blue heron and have to wait hours to catch something to eat. I had always thought it would be much more thrilling to be a plunge diving bird, like many we have seen here at sea. At least hunting would be a source of excitement rather than boredom. If there was a nice sunset at the time of spotting the bird we were almost certain to wait upwards of ten to fifteen minutes to experience the true magnificence of the heron.

A couple hours after I had gone to sleep I heard a loud knock at the door from one of the ship’s crew waking us up for a fire drill. The crew was holding the drill at 10:30 AM, a good time for the majority of the people on board, but an unfortunate time for those who had just gone to sleep after working through the night. Thankfully this morning’s drill went pretty fast. During the last drill I had volunteered to put on a survival suit (kind of like a big wet suit that goes on over your clothes), which slowed things down for everyone. I was certainly not as graceful as a hunting heron.

When I woke it turned out that the bird was okay and had returned to the sea from whence it came. We weren’t sure if it was really hurt or just having a rest. Certain types of seabirds can spend months to years on the ocean without ever seeing land, so I would guess this particular petrel was equipped to handle some windy weather. Still, I couldn’t help but feel grateful to Tracy for giving back to the birds who have given children everywhere so much viewing pleasure, even if they didn’t appreciate it until twenty years later.

-Eli