Whenever I see a northern fulmar, I'm reminded of winters in Monterey. Walking down uneven wooden planks, coffee in hand, I take the boat through the jaws just as the sun's orange light begins filtering through dark cumulus clouds to the east, the harbor air damp with the smell of wet gull poop. With a small load of maybe 20 passengers, we head out into a crisp breezy sea, the morning light creating golden spray off the crests of big winter swells. The forecast calls for rain, but with weather holds for at least the morning. Passing Cannery Row and the lighthouse at Point Pinos, we spot our first group of gray whales, lumbering along just outside the kelp canopy, stragglers on the long migration north. And in the distance beyond the whale blows, pitching back and forth in a steady wind, are northern fulmars; their vibrant white plumage contrasting sharply with a dramatic winter sky. For me, fulmars mean winter, but in the summer, St. Paul Island is one of many breeding destinations for these open ocean birds.
Canon EOS 60D, Canon EF 70-200mm f/4L USM + 1.4x, ISO-250 f/6.3 @ 1/320 sec.
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