Want to know what the inside of a bird egg looks like? A new female song sparrow has arrived and is shaking things up on the island. Plus, read on to discover what happens when you combine an unlucky field assistant with an unforgiving remote island.
I’ve been waking up each morning at 5 am with the sun and the birds. I’m the furthest thing from a morning person, so it says a lot about the sunrises here if I jump out of bed first thing in the morning to open my cabin door. I can’t think of anything more inspiring than reaching for your camera as soon as you wake up.
The series of unfortunate events
We had a visitor this week. It was Shelley’s first- and probably last- trip to the island. Before this trip, the closest she had been to the birds was our Excel database. She understandably wanted to take a break from her computer work and see the birds she had been working on from behind a screen. Her troubles started with a door that wasn’t closed properly. After dropping off her belongings in a cabin, she accidentally left the door open a crack. It only took a few hours for mice to colonize her cabin, and their squeaks and scampering kept her up all night. That was the first night. The second night she surrounded herself with mouse traps and helplessly listened to the soundtrack of wailing squeaks. On the third morning, a rogue banana slug made its way into the kitchen. My coworker, Ebba, failed to see the slug and comedically slipped on it as if the banana slug was an actual banana peel. She was unharmed, but I can’t say the same for the slug. Unfortunately, the residue of guts and slime was in the exact place where Shelley later dropped her toothbrush.
From the third night on, she used a cotton ball she found to brush her teeth. On Shelley’s last day, we were getting ready to head into the mainland for a bit. We stood and stared at each other as she asked, “What do I do with all the mice in traps in my cabin?” We had never had to deal with this before; mice aren’t usually in our sleeping cabins. None of us wanted to remove the mice from the traps, but we had to dispose of them…
She later emerged from her cabin, a cotton ball toothbrush in one hand and a garbage bag full of mice in the other. They were lovely passengers beside me on the boat ride back- didn’t make a peep. Poor Shelley was exhausted by the end of the week. I asked her if she wanted to return the following week, and she quickly replied that she was busy. To top it all off, she and I got some nasty bites requiring antibiotics. I don’t think we will be seeing her again.
Fieldwork
Have you ever fallen into such a consistent routine that you are completely thrown off when something disrupts it? Each week I check to ensure all 12 single male song sparrows on the island are still single. So, I was really thrown when I saw a new song sparrow hanging out with one of the males this week. Male song sparrows don’t “hang out,” so I knew this was a female. After hours of watching, we realized she had no colour bands on her leg, meaning she came from a nearby island. We track the song sparrows here so well that each is fitted with a unique combination of colour bands. We call birds from other islands, those without bands, immigrants. Song sparrows here usually start their first nest in early spring, so for her to arrive on the island and remain unmated in late May is rare. The population has officially increased from 1 female to 2, HEYO! However, the future for the song sparrows on the island is still grim- immigrant genes are problematic for birds growing up here. That’s a whole other story… Essentially life can be tough for song sparrows here. Babies that have immigrant genes in their DNA usually don’t survive as well on this island and end up leaving to live on a nearby island. The immigrant female has been hanging out a lot in the same male’s territory; however, with 12 interested males, he has to put in the work to make sure she chooses to stay with him instead of one of his eager neighbours.
Quiz: Can you spot the song sparrow in this picture?
So, what about the other female on the island? Her eggs hatched last week, and we were able to band her 7-day-old babies this week. We took measurements, added colour bands to their legs, and took blood samples in order to obtain genetic information for each bird. I had never taken blood samples before but was shown how to by my research advisor. I didn’t realize how much my hands were shaking; their veins were so tiny! They only bleed for a few seconds, and then I applied a bit of pressure with a cotton ball- yes, like the one Shelley brushed her teeth with- to ensure the bleeding stopped.
This was no ordinary nest, though. Song sparrows usually have four kids, but only three kids and one unhatched egg were in this nest. Those three birds are the future of the population on the island! I don’t know why the fourth kid didn’t hatch from its egg, but we cracked it open to learn more. It was fertile. There was a very developed-looking baby bird in there. The picture may be disturbing to some, so I’ve attached it at the end of this post. Not all kids make it; it’s the sad reality of nature.
Early one morning, I was tired and watching birds when Ebba’s scream startled me. “WHALE”!!!!!!!! Everything was still for a few seconds, and then, sure enough, a massive blow from the water erupted. The back of one lone whale emerged. I’ve only ever seen whales from the ferry. In my head, it was a lot closer than it likely was, but I still found it amazing to be close to such a large and incredible creature. I think it was a minke, but it was hard to tell. I grabbed my camera and zoomed in quickly but only managed to get a quick picture of the blow and the whale’s back.
I noticed a carcass outside my bedroom- nothing out of the ordinary. We determined it was probably a Lingcod that an eagle scooped up, tore apart and left behind. It looked like a good-sized fish, and seeing its large jaw up close was awesome.
To my dismay, the creatures I despise most on the island, more than the mice and the fleas, are back. I feel no shame in saying I hate tent caterpillars. They are back, and they are everywhere. They don’t cause any harm; they just disgust me. What do you think of these guys?
“Ethical behavior is doing the right thing when no one else is watching- even when doing the wrong this is legal”
-aldo leopold
Last Updated on July 9, 2023 by Megan Duchesne
Wow the video showing how to band and take blood samples from the babies is so interesting. I was surprised by how quick the process is. Is this traumatic for the babies? Are their hearts beating like crazy?
Fear is definitely something that is learned! When we are holding the babies (~5 days old) they usually fall asleep in our hands, they are blissfully unaware. But when we’re banding adults you can feel their hearts racing while their eyes dart around and they make attempts to get away. When we are banding babies the adults watch nearby and make a *chip* noise that serves as an alarm call so if the babies are a bit older (~10 days old) then you can tell they know they should be scared. Is it traumatic? For the babies, I wouldn’t say so… But for the other birds? I imagine its a very scary experience. If you stay calm and work as quickly as possible then the birds usually relax