A Minor Shake

Third bird trip in 3 days, I just can’t get enough. This time I signed onto a longer 4 hour trip instead of the short 2.5 hour tours, in an effort to put myself further offshore for some variety; and it paid off. The trip was scheduled for 1PM, and I of course checked in 15 minutes early (I hate being late). I was sitting outside of the Encounter Café enjoying the cold damp afternoon, waiting for my fellow birders to arrive, when I felt a suitable shifting below my feet. I looked over at the door to my right, moving slightly in and out, to confirm that what I was feeling was a small earthquake. I glanced inside to see if anyone else was taking notice of this natural event, but only one woman seemed to grasp what was happening. She was looking around at the floor probably looking for confirmation of the quake herself (sometimes it’s just your heartbeat you know).

The mini quake only lasted a few seconds, and my mind quickly wondered back to seabirds as we boarded the van and made our way to the launch ramp at South Harbor. I knew the couple sitting in front of me had to be European since they smelled heavily of armpit rote. I wasn’t sure about the old man behind me, but he was making strange whistle-like sounds to the chorus of a song. I figured it was some form of breathing therapy, and didn’t bother to ask what he was singing.

Once on the water we charged straight out over the canyon, ignoring the Wandering Albatross and Giant Petrels flying in our wake; we would be seeing plenty of them later. On the ride out I learned that the BO couple was from Sweden and the old man, who was going on his sixth birding trip out of Kaikoura, was from the UK. In fact the wheezing old man spotted the first of four Common Diving Petrels of the day; it looked similar to the murrelets of the Northern Hemisphere, flying with a quick wing beat low on the water. As the seafloor beneath our aluminum dingy dropped to well over 6,000 feet, Alastair the skipper killed the engine and tossed a bag of fish livers over the stern. This soon drew in so many albatross that I very well could have overdosed on seabirds, it was overwhelming. At one point we had all seven species with their subspecies sitting or flying around us at once; cooperatively displaying their various field marks for us to identify. By the end of the trip we could all discern between Gibson’s Wandering, Northern Royal, Southern Royal, Northern Buller’s, Southern Buller’s, Salvin’s, and New Zealand White-capped Albatross. What an incredible opportunity to learn these birds, such an amazing group of animals.

A few hours passed and Alastair got a call on the radio. He came out from behind his chair and asked if any were planning on going to Christchurch soon. I wasn’t sure why he was asking this, until he announced that the town was yet again hit by a massive earthquake that caused widespread damage. Well that explains the shaking in the café…Shit. Christchurch has already been crippled by a previous 6+ quake a few weeks ago, and this one was apparently bigger. The deep canyon that gives Kaikoura its bounty of seabirds is actually a subduction zone; the island nation is no stranger to violent quakes. Christchurch is the airport where I had my slumber party, and where I was planning on flying out of in 3 days. I noticed while on the bus to Kaikoura from the wounded town that many of the older historic brick buildings were being held up by external braces; I wonder how many of them are still standing.

Well we still had a few hours at sea, so we put those thoughts aside and continued birding. I was glancing at the various albatross flying around, trying to find the other common species I haven’t seen yet the Black-browed, when I noticed a small bird with a fluttering to gliding flight pattern just over the tops of the 1.5 meter swell….

“There…6 O-Clock, it’s a small petrel!”

By small petrel I mean a bird in the genus Pterodroma, a bird that spends most of its time well offshore (off California you sometimes have to travel over 200 miles before you stand a chance of seeing one). At this point we forgot all about the massive Wandering Albatross at arm’s length, and devoted the rest of the trip to finding one of the smallest of the tubenoses that wouldn’t approach any more than a football field’s length. We had a few more glimpses, and snapped a series of grainy photos, but never got a close look at the bird. It was most likely a Cook’s Petrel, but I’ll have to show the photo to a keen birder to figure it out. At any rate it was a Pterodroma, and that’s worth something.

Well I think I’ve had my fill of seabirds for a few days, so I’m taking tomorrow off. I’m sitting in my bunk writing this journal entry, listening to the rain outside. The internet is out at the moment, probably a combination of people flooding the servers for the latest news of the quake and damage to the telecommunications infrastructure. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with my flight out of here, but really it’s not a bad place to be stranded. Everyone at this hostel seems very friendly so at least I’ll be in good company. Currently I’m told the Christchurch Airport has a disclaimer on its website that reads “Do not travel to airport, closed.” In all likelihood I may just have to take a ferry up to Wellington, but I won’t know until the internet returns. Mom, hopefully you’re not freaking out at this point; remember…everything’s going to be OK. In fact maybe I’ll give you a call before you book a flight down here yourself.