Bonin Cloud
After a long night of reluctantly drinking tequila shots
that were generously supplied to us by the crew of our transport vessel the Kahana,
and playing several rounds of foosball at the “All Hands” bar just down the
street, I awoke to a predictably cloudy head. Luckily a managed to hold down
some eggs and bacon for breakfast, and after a mug of coffee and a dip in the
lagoon, I was ready to start the day. Honestly most of my morning was spent
napping.
Later in the afternoon I rode my bike around a few new
stretches of Midway I hadn’t seen yet. I spotted about a dozen manta rays doing
loops and back flips in the main harbor, feeding on tiny plankton and larvae. They
had roughly six foot wingspans, not the big mantas most are familiar with, but a
smaller variety I’ve seen both in Baja and Costa Rica. I photographed the
Pacific-golden Plovers and Bristle-thighed Curlews, and went on a quick hike
through the pine forest to enjoy the White Terns and Brown Noodys some more. Just
before dinner we checked out turtle beach and found 10-15 Green Sea Turtles basking
in the sun on the sand, and watched the Kahana leave the harbor on its way to
Kure Atoll 60 miles northwest of Midway.
The highlight of the day was actually the day’s end. Royce
and Corey (both going to Laysan) and Morgan and I (both going to Tern) rode to the
end of the old runway to a northwest point called Rusty Can. Just before the
sun began its rapid descent below the horizon, small black shapes started to appear
from beyond the reef, occasionally arching high above the turquoise water. This
is what we had been waiting for, the nightly arrival of thousands of small
seabirds called petrels. Petrels, like their relatives the albatrosses,
shearwaters, and storm-petrels, spend all of their time and indeed a majority
of their lives out in the open ocean. Making a living on fish and squid and sleeping
on the water, they fly great distances across a featureless ocean; only
returning to these remote atolls for the necessary task of finding a mate and
laying an egg. These are Bonin Petrels that breed on Midway, and they number in
the thousands, if not hundreds of thousands. As night falls the sky becomes clotted
with petrels, their calls which remind me of the sound your stomach makes when
you’re hungry, fill the island with the vibrant commotion of life. Once the
petrels locate their burrows and identify their mates, the calls diminish, so
the best time to view this nightly phenomenon is just after sunset. We used to
travel 50 miles offshore on 12 hour pelagic bird trips in Monterey hoping to
spot a brief glimpse of these birds, and here they’re so thick that we had to
dodge at least a half dozen resting on the roads. Amazing. I’m told there is a smaller
population of Bonin Petrels on Tern, but I’m glad I had the chance to witness
these birds here on Midway.
After a long night of reluctantly drinking tequila shots
that were generously supplied to us by the crew of our transport vessel the Kahana,
and playing several rounds of foosball at the “All Hands” bar just down the
street, I awoke to a predictably cloudy head. Luckily a managed to hold down
some eggs and bacon for breakfast, and after a mug of coffee and a dip in the
lagoon, I was ready to start the day. Honestly most of my morning was spent
napping. 
Later in the afternoon I rode my bike around a few new
stretches of Midway I hadn’t seen yet. I spotted about a dozen manta rays doing
loops and back flips in the main harbor, feeding on tiny plankton and larvae. They
had roughly six foot wingspans, not the big mantas most are familiar with, but a
smaller variety I’ve seen both in Baja and Costa Rica. I photographed the
Pacific-golden Plovers and Bristle-thighed Curlews, and went on a quick hike
through the pine forest to enjoy the White Terns and Brown Noodys some more. Just
before dinner we checked out turtle beach and found 10-15 Green Sea Turtles basking
in the sun on the sand, and watched the Kahana leave the harbor on its way to
Kure Atoll 60 miles northwest of Midway. 
The highlight of the day was actually the day’s end. Royce
and Corey (both going to Laysan) and Morgan and I (both going to Tern) rode to the
end of the old runway to a northwest point called Rusty Can. Just before the
sun began its rapid descent below the horizon, small black shapes started to appear
from beyond the reef, occasionally arching high above the turquoise water. This
is what we had been waiting for, the nightly arrival of thousands of small
seabirds called petrels. Petrels, like their relatives the albatrosses,
shearwaters, and storm-petrels, spend all of their time and indeed a majority
of their lives out in the open ocean. Making a living on fish and squid and sleeping
on the water, they fly great distances across a featureless ocean; only
returning to these remote atolls for the necessary task of finding a mate and
laying an egg. These are Bonin Petrels that breed on Midway, and they number in
the thousands, if not hundreds of thousands. As night falls the sky becomes clotted
with petrels, their calls which remind me of the sound your stomach makes when
you’re hungry, fill the island with the vibrant commotion of life. Once the
petrels locate their burrows and identify their mates, the calls diminish, so
the best time to view this nightly phenomenon is just after sunset. We used to
travel 50 miles offshore on 12 hour pelagic bird trips in Monterey hoping to
spot a brief glimpse of these birds, and here they’re so thick that we had to
dodge at least a half dozen resting on the roads. Amazing. I’m told there is a smaller
population of Bonin Petrels on Tern, but I’m glad I had the chance to witness
these birds here on Midway. 
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