A little bit of good news

The Svalbard safari I went on in July 2013 produced some wonderful images, but most surprising of all, was the sheer volume of bird photography I was able to do.  I went to the island archipelago hoping to see polar bears and walrus, with an outside chance of squeezing in some bird photography.  Little did I know just how much time I would get to spend tracking the flyers with my camera.

Svalbard’ secret when it comes to birds, is quantity, not diversity.  There are not too many species of birds found that far north (remember it is in the Arctic circle), but the birds that do head up there to breed in the summer, do so in massive numbers (Brunnich’s guillemot breeding colony), and this gives you quite a few bites at the apple.  Normally when you are on safari, you might get only one chance to photograph a bird in flight, but in Svalbard, you can (not always) get several fly-bys from hundreds of birds.

I used these numbers and opportunities to my advantage and put together a gallery of some of the better images, which was recently featured on the BBC Wildlife Magazine’s website: www.dicoverwildlife.com.  It is always nice to see your images getting some good exposure, and nice to be the one who shows people just what amazing birds can be found in the Arctic Circle!

To join me on safari, click here!

Svalbard: An amazing place

Svalbard, as you might have gathered from my previous blogs, is simply an amazing place.  It is so extreme, that any species that manages to survive up there is quite special, and then some.  I went there hoping to see a few of the more charismatic species, but found myself amazed by everything we saw.

The thing that surprised me the most was the amount of landscape images I came back with.  Being a true wildlife photographer, I don’t often put time into landscape photography, but in Svalbard, you don’t have a choice!  The stark beauty of every new horizon is too inviting.  It was great to see a bunch of big-lens wielding photogs giving the wide-angle lenses a run.  While the little lenses were out, some new ideas came to mind.  For ninety percent of the safari, we had a travelling companion – the northern fulmar.  Admittedly, not the most striking bird, but pretty in its own right, these birds would fly behind the boat, swinging left to right for hours on end, giving us great photographic opportunities.  Combining the little lenses with the northern fulmars created some magic images.
At one point we found ourselves in between two little auk breeding colonies.  These fantastic little birds nest in the thousands underneath large boulders.  Sitting patiently on the rocks just off to the side of the nests gets you right into the action, and every few minutes a flock of five hundred or so birds comes whizzing past your camera.  Shortly after the little auk colony, we were face to face with a family of harbour seals. Curious by nature, these seals are quite interested in the people taking their picture, so they come in closer for a better look – this was a wonderful discovery for the photographers!  Sitting only meters away from these playful seals was an unexpected win for us!

The glaciers that we saw were equally as impressive as the wildlife.  The sheer size is difficult to fully understand, and the photographs certainly don’t do the size any justice.  Try to imagine a forty-story building and you will get a rough idea as to the size of some of the smaller glaciers leading edges.  The massive mountains in the background don’t help the brain compute the size either, by dwarfing these monsters.  We did manage to see some carving, which is when large chunks of ice fall off the front of the glacier – scary stuff!  It literally sounds like a building being imploded, and the force of the ice falling looks similar to it as well.  The waves created by carving glacier ice have toppled boats anchored over a couple of hundred meters away.  Hopping into the smaller zodiacs, we went between theses enormous blocks of carved ice and were transported into an ancient world, as some of the ice were a few thousand years old – again, difficult to fully comprehend.

Svalbard is a special place.  I feel really privileged to have experienced it both in summer and late winter, and can’t wait to get back again!

To join me safari, click here!

Svalbard: The ever-present tern

At every turn in our Svalbard adventure, another tern would pop up.  The arctic tern is quite a small bird, but is the record holder in quite a prestigious category – it is the animal that has a longer migration than any other.

These amazing little birds breed during the arctic summer. As soon as they have successfully fledged the chicks, they begin the long journey south – to the Antarctic!  They literally migrate from one pole to the other.  This is no mean feat, but given the size of the bird, they have certainly earned their spot in all our respect books.  Perhaps because of their arduous journey, they are tough little blighters.  This became quite evident when on our first day in Svalbard we happened upon an arctic tern nest and were forcibly removed from the area.  The birds begin the attack with loud squawking, quickly followed by dive-bombing at your eyes.  I know they are small birds, but let me assure you, this is a very convincing technique.  No matter how sure you are of yourself, there is an instinct to protect your eyes you can’t seem to turn off, and they win that fight ten out of ten.  I witnessed them using this trick of theirs on a number of occasions, and they were always able to chase off the predators (impressively, from glaucus gulls to polar bears).

During a walrus sighting, the large mammals moved a little distance into the water and we were patiently waiting their return.  Right on cue, an arctic tern showed up and started feeding not far from where we were sitting.  The tern gave us great images as it would dive into the water, catching little shrimp, and then flying off with its quarry right past us.   It goes to show, it is not always the biggest and scariest animals that make the best pictures – keep your eyes open and look out for the ever-present terns.

To join me on safari, click here!

Svalbard: The Kittiwake’s cliff

Tucked away in a large crevasse along the jagged coast of the main island Spitzbergen, is an extremely impressive colony of breeding black-legged kittiwakes.  These petit and very pretty birds appear gull-like, which probably makes you think ‘a little dull-like’.  I certainly did, until we reached the cliffs, settled in and actually had a chance to watch these beautiful birds go about their day-to-day.

Viewing the cliff is quite an intimate affair- you climb over a ridge and (very carefully) work your way down until you are basically in the colony, on a small grassy patch that is unused by the birds.  From there you can find yourself only a few meters away from the birds, and the photographic opportunities are endless.  Every lens was put to work, from the widest angle to the big zooms – it was fantastic!  The birds simply ignore you and carry on with their day, which is ideal for photography. 

A real highlight was seeing the newly hatched chicks in the nest.  For the most part they were well covered by their parents, but every now and again, a little fellow would pop its head out from beneath its mother and have a look at the world.  This was a dangerous game as the always-present glaucus gulls were keeping an eye out for a quick meal.  While we were at the cliffs, it seemed that the kittwakes had the gulls under control, as none of the youngsters were snatched.

The cliffs were shared with a small colony of brunnich’s guillemots, which seemed to enjoy the peace away from the main colony (see: Svalbard: Unbelievable scenes).  Together they seemed to have a great place to nest, coupled with a great view and plenty of food.

To join me on safari, click here!

Svalbard: The stars of the show

Even with all the magnificent beauty, extreme conditions and serious difficulties of living in Svalbard, there is one species that really steals the show.  Most people travel up to the arctic with one real hope – to see a polar bear.  We were no different, and we were very lucky indeed.

We had several sightings of polar bears, which is lucky in itself, but it’s the interactions we witnessed that fired off the cameras at an alarming rate.  Our first sighting was a good appetite setter.  She was a young, nervous bear that wasn’t too keen on being photographed.  I managed a few long-range shots before she moved off over the ridge.  Not long after she disappeared and we celebrated, the second bear appeared out of the mist, and this bear was more obliging.  So obliging in fact, that it led us straight to a third bear, who was also relaxed.  The conditions were difficult; the rain was becoming a combination of hail and sleet and the zodiacs were rocking back and forth, but it was all forgotten when the two bears stood up and started sparring with each other.  Seeing a polar bear is cool.  Seeing two bears interacting is fantastic!  The cameras were working overtime through the rain/sleet/hail capturing interaction seldom seen on Svalbard.  After their sparring session, the two bears parted ways temporarily, leading one of the bears straight to a herd of walruses with a small baby.  Walruses are generally too big for the polar bears to handle (see: Svalbard: 100% character), but the babies, now that is a different story.  Realising the danger, the mother of the young baby and her close affiliates made a mad dash for the water, literally throwing and rolling the baby down the beach and into the safety of the water.  Seeing this, the polar bear walked closer to make sure there were no more baby walrus treats hiding in the herd, and then moved off.

Our next polar bear was brilliantly spotted as it moved over a ridge.  We boarded the zodiacs, and went in for a closer look.  The bear was quickly re-found, but in a different place to where it should have been.  It took us a little while to work it all out, but when a little head popped up from behind the sleeping bear, we knew we had found a different bear from the one that was spotted, and she had a six-month old cub!  The rest of the day was spent photographing these three bears in all sorts of positions and locations.  The bears eventually met up, and a twenty-minute chase began across the small island they were on.  The mother, obviously nervous with such a young cub around, was doing her best to shield the little chap from potential danger, and kept trying to lose the approaching bear. They didn’t get too close to each other (luckily for the little bear) and all ended well.  It was great seeing the change in behaviour in the bears, and getting to photograph it.  We spent many hours in the company of these amazing animals and were privileged to get many great photographs.

 

To join me on safari, click here!

Svalbard: The villain of the piece

Every good story needs a villain, and filling this less than desirable role in the Svalbard story, is the glaucus gull. On several occasions, I witnessed these large birds preying on some of the smaller birds that headed (very far) north to breed in the arctic summer.

The eider ducks were the main target during most of my sightings.  The brave ducks did their best to fight back, and for a while it seemed to work, but eventually, the patience, wise and guile of the bigger bird prevailed, and the ducks lost a chick.  There is no rest however, no matter how high you are up on the food chain, especially when the rest of your species thinks the same way you do.  Once the chick had been caught, it hadn’t even been swallowed yet (amazingly hole, and in one quick gulp), and the nearest of the gulls’ colleagues was onto him, challenging for the remains of the little chick.  During one attack on the slightly defenceless ducks, a gull made a cool approach to some nesting ducks, and swooped in to try grabbing a chick, but missed and got a beak-full of the treasured down feather that have made eider ducks so famous.  It spat the feathers out with a look of disgust, and flew off to try a different group of nesting females.

Things don’t always go the way of the gulls though – a very brave, and very irritating arctic tern was able to encourage the gull to move on. It was a matter of minutes however, before a second gull was onto the tern’s nesting site, and the performance started again.  All of this provided some incredible photographic opportunities!

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Svalbard: Unbelievable scenes

I recently spent 10 awesome days on a photographic safari in Svalbard; the land of the midnight sun (well, this time of year anyway; there are also 4 months where it is the land of complete darkness).  There was so much to see and do, so many spectacular scenes, that I have decided to break up my arctic tales into a number of separate blogs.  The first of these adventures was an incredible trip to a bird cliff.

This was not just any bird cliff, this would be more accurately described as ‘the’ bird cliff – sixty thousand pairs of breeding Brunnich’s Guillemots!  For those of you who struggle with math, that is one hundred and twenty thousand birds (these are only the breeding birds, not any other hanging around) on one cliff face!  It truly is a feast for the senses.

Photographing them from the bow of our ship proved to be interesting…  The hardest part was without a doubt, trying to single out a single scene or bird to aim at.  There is so much commotion both on the cliff face, and flying around you, that it is very tricky trying to pick up the rhythm.   After I had closed my gob-smacked jaw, I did work out the general comings and goings of the birds, and managed to get some great images.  The rocking of the boat did not help either, for two reasons.  Firstly, because it makes aiming the camera very difficult, and secondly, because it does not allow you to use a tripod, so for the duration of the three hour continuous shoot, you are holding your (at this stage very heavy) camera, which will test even the buffest biceps!

At a number of points throughout the experience, I found myself standing back just looking up at that impressive cliff, trying to comprehend everything in front of me.  Even harder was thinking how on earth do I explain this to people who have never seen it – I surely would not have believed it if someone had try to describe it to me.  The only sure fire way to fully understand this marvelous phenomenon, is to head up to the arctic, and see it for yourself!

 

To join me on safari, click here!

 

Sea eagles on ice please

I was on safari in Japan recently, and had the good fortune to photograph the magnificent stellar sea eagles.  This is quite an experience, one that surprised me in all the right ways.

 

We set out on our icebreaker cruise first thing in the morning, and were lucky to have had the sea ice drift south over night (quick info: no ice = no eagles; there was no ice the evening we arrived).  We headed out straight for the ice (which never seems like a good idea: titanic), and wedged ourselves between the massive blocks of white rock.  The hull of the boat squealed each time we made contact with a new piece of ice, causing even the brave to keep a concerned eye on the lifeboats.  Just as we got settled, the first of these massive eagles swooped past us, looking for bits of fish.

The stellar sea eagle is the world’s largest eagle, which is quite apparent even at a distance.  While the short distance between eagle number one and our cameras did not disguise their size, when eagle number two came and landed less than ten meters away from us, it was properly understood.  These are some seriously big birds.  They are just fantastic to watch, and even better to photograph.  The white-tailed eagles we had seen before also joined in the feast of fish found on the ice, and were somewhat dwarfed by these oversized raptors.  Two and a half hours of pure bliss resulting in thousands of images.  Towards the end, I counted close to one hundred eagles sitting and flying all around us.  To anyone who has even the slightest interest in photography, birding or life experiences, this is an absolute must do!

To join me on safari, click here!

 

 

Skilled thievery

Sometimes the best intentions can be misunderstood.  This is exactly the case in Japan, where feeding stations were created to rehabilitate and restore the alarmingly low numbers of the Japanese red-crowned crane (there are an estimated eight hundred breeding pairs left, a number which has increased greatly over the last fifty years).

Corn is thrown out on a daily basis to help the cranes get through the long cold winter and to boost breeding in the spring, but occasionally fish are thrown out as well.

Enter the white-tailed eagles.  They have cleverly seen that the cranes are being fed delicious, pre-caught fish, and wanted in on the action, so that’s what they did.  They started hanging around the crane sanctuaries, keeping an eye on proceedings, and when they see the juicy fish thrown out onto the snow, they begin their decent. They move quickly and quietly, and to try catch the flocks of cranes by surprise so as to steal the fish with as little fuss as possible.

Many wary cranes eyes now keep an upward watch for these eagles, and let out a loud squawk when the eagles drop into the flock.  Amplify this by one hundred birds all squeaking at the same time, and feeding becomes chaotic. For the most part, the cranes get the fish they need to make it through the winter, but a large portion goes (unintentionally) to sustaining the white–tailed eagle population.

I was leading a photographic safari to Japan earlier in the year, and managed to witness this fantastic interaction between the birds.  It is a photographer’s heaven; there is more going on than any one person can photograph, leaving you glued to the action and clicking away like crazy. The eagles don’t have it all their own way however. As they make off with some freshly stolen fish, the carrion crows swoop in and start harassing the eagles, picking up the dropped pieces.  It really is half an hour of madness that provides thousands of great images.

 

To join me on next years Japan: Winter Wildlife Safari, click here!