Ecological Almanac is a tag
name for articles that have been published in the local newspaper, the Queen
Charlotte Islands Observer either as submissions or inserts.
Their purpose is to focus attention on current happenings in the mosaic
ocean life around the Islands. Please find these articles with links to
text for reading on the website or for download.

Spring
Birding
Download [pdf • 81kb]
by Margo Hearne, published in the QCI Observer in
May 2002
What are all those Brown Geese?
They’re the talk of the town, those
wonderful, wild geese that settled on Haida Gwaii at the end of April.
They landed in fields, airports, golf courses and lawns; anywhere they
could get a bite to eat and a bit of shelter from the strong
northwesterlies that have blown over us since mid-April. On their way
to the nesting grounds in the Yukon River Delta, the geese were held
here by strong head-winds. They are Greater White-fronted Geese, Anser
albifrons, and the number seen here in late April and early May is the
largest known flock size ever to appear in spring in British Columbia.
Upwards of 7,000 geese were counted, 5,000 in
Delkatla Wildlife Sanctuary alone. It’s a phenomenon. A
friend in Tlell told me that she had “just sat down outside
for a cup of coffee and suddenly had the strange feeling that she was
not alone”. When she turned, she saw upwards of 300
White-fronts in the field behind her. ‘They landed so
silently,” she laughed. “And suddenly, just as
silently, took off again. How do they do that?”
A group of birders from the Vancouver Natural
History Society, here on a birding trip, made these geese their motif,
seeing not only geese but shadows of geese that drifted down outside as
they sat inside on one of their short breaks. One evening such a huge
flock landed in Delkatla that we had to rush off to find someone to
share the adventure. The birds seemed to pour down from the sky and,
restless as the wind themselves, take wing again.
So where have they come from and where are they
going? According to the book ‘Birds of British
Columbia’ by Campbell and others, the Greater White-fronted
Geese migrate along the Offshore Pacific flyway winter in the Central
Valley of California and nest in the Yukon River Delta. They feed on
fresh grass shoots, bulbs and roots; and like a bit of freshwater
around. They’re mighty hungry and unless given a chance to
feed, many could die on the northern nesting grounds, unable to
withstand the toll of a cold migration and the rigours of the nesting
season. It’s a wild, uncertain life they have, and long may
they fly.
One afternoon the last week of April, we stood in
a field in Tlell and watched the migration of birds offshore for hours.
Dabbling and diving ducks, brant, loons,
black-legged Kittiwakes, grebes, jaegers; you name it, it passed by.
Hecate Strait and Dixon Entrance are still
undiscovered country when it comes to migratory birds. Other than some
limited aerial surveys in the 70’s, no recent surveys have
been done on the millions of birds migrating north along the offshore
Pacific Flyway. The shallow seas east and north of Haida Gwaii are a
mecca for migrants. Upwellings along the Dogshead Shoal, running seas
at Rose Spit and Sandspit, and the trench between the islands and the
mainland attract birds by the million.
Why? Well, when you have a relatively sheltered,
shallow body of water between two landforms, living things thrive.
Euphausids, those tiny shrimp-like creatures that are eaten by
everything from herring to whales, abound in the shallows, sandlance
skitter along, and herring and halibut follow in their wake. And, of
course, birds, described by fishermen as ‘feed’ for
they mark the spot where fish can be found.
If there’s feed, there’s fish;
if there’s fish, there’s shrimp; if
there’s shrimp, there are whales; if there are whales,
there’s feed. It’s called the ‘food
chain’. All this must be considered by human developments
such as offshore oil and gas and offshore windfarms.
^
top

The
Gray whales are back again! – From Mexico to Alaska
Download [pdf • 80kb]
by Julie Towers, published in the QCI Observer in
May 2002
Whoosh! The blow of a gray whale grabs our
attention. Five people on the sailboat swivel our heads in time to see
a bumpy, barnacle-encrusted back as the whale dives. Momentarily
forgotten are the nearby sea ducks, seals and sea lions. The size and
mystery of whales dominate again.
Watching gray whales at Second Beach last year was
a personal highlight after moving to the Islands. I discovered a great
book at the local library entitled Gray Whales, Wandering Giants
written by Robert Busch. Their feeding behaviour is amazing. Did you
know that the whales are “right-mouthed?”
When gray whales dive, they roll onto their side
and push their heads into the bottom sediment. Scars, scraped barnacles
and worn baleen plates on the right side of their mouths reflect this
habit. When a whale pushes into the seabed, its’ two to five
throat grooves expand and the huge tongue (up to 1300 kg!) pulls back
to create suction. Mud, water and food flow into the mouth. The tongue
pushes most of the dirt and water out through the baleen plates, while
the food is trapped. Made of keratin like your fingernails, the 160
pairs of baleen plates are solid at the top and toothbrush-bristled at
the bottom.
How much food can an 11 m long, 30 tonne whale
filter? Between 400 to 1300 kilograms a day! Gray whales eat a variety
of marine organisms including shrimp, tube-dwelling worms, clams,
snails, and spawning squid. Important foods in spring are crab larvae,
krill, and herring roe. Apparently, the whales will scrape small
crustaceans off kelp and eelgrass. Many whale stomachs have contained
plants, leading to the belief that they eat marine plants to scour
their intestines, just as dogs eat grass.
Gray whales can reach marine plants and animals in
water less than three metres in depth. Their huge horizontal tail
flukes are estimated to be equivalent in power to a 500 horsepower
engine. Powerful tail flukes and streamlined bodies help push them into
shallow water to feed, or along coastal waters on their 6000 kilometre
annual migration from California to Alaska.
Another neat adaptation for the marine environment
is the gray whale’s oxygen storing capacity. Gray whales have
a 130 kg heart, two to three times more blood per unit of body weight
than humans, and an iron-based protein in their muscle tissue that
allows storage of 41 percent of their oxygen (compared to 13 percent in
humans). Their lungs weigh 300 kilograms, have more air cells, and two
layers of capillaries to increase air exchange. With each breath from
its double blowhole, a gray whale expels 80-90 percent of its
oxygen-depleted air, compared to 15 percent for humans.
On deep dives, up to 120 m in depth, a gray whale
can stay underwater for up to 25 minutes. Luckily for whale-watchers,
the gray normally dives less than 30 metres and surfaces after three to
five minutes. So on the second weekend in April, five of us on a
sailboat are treated to sightings of two gray whales repeatedly
surfacing, blowing, and flashing their gray and white barnacle-covered
heads and backs. As I write this article, I am already planning to head
over to Skidegate near high tide to watch for more whales. I may even
drop over at low tide to look for grooves in the mud flats where the
whales shoved their “right-mouthed” heads. See you
there!
^
top

Black
oystercatcher – Sgaadang.a
Download [pdf • 96kb]
by Charlotte Tarver, published in the QCI
Observer in June 2002
One of the more familiar birds along the rocky
shorelines of Haida Gwaii is ‘Sgaadang.a’ or Black
Oystercatcher. It is an unremarkable long-legged and blackish-brown
shorebird – except for a long, orange-red bill, and loud,
raucous calls. One might pass them by and not realize how important a
role Black Oystercatchers play in our local systems. Oystercatchers
live on land at the shore’s edge, yet are entirely dependent
on the ocean for their food. Thus, they are a good indicator species of
shoreline health.
Black Oystercatchers are year-round residents on
Haida Gwaii/QCI. Their habitat includes rock headlands, rocky
shorelines and sand/gravel beaches with lots of tidal and wave action.
In spring and summer, they can be found on small islands or rocks,
where they nest and raise their young. In winter, they congregate in
large flocks of 20 to 100 to feed in protected inlets. A Christmas bird
count in Naden Harbour once recorded a flock of 150 birds.
Despite their name, oystercatchers feed mostly on
mussels and limpets. They rely on the immense mussel beds and abundant
populations of limpets and crustaceans found here. These prey species
in turn rely on the high quality, plankton-rich waters of the Islands,
and are also an indication of a healthy marine environment
Black Oystercatchers are fascinating to watch.
They run with short quick steps, side-by-side, then rotate in place or
make a 180-degree turn and give dramatic leaps. With head and bill
downward, neck and shoulders hunched, they rush at each other, giving a
rapid series of calls. These antics are performed when defending
territories, luring intruders away from a nest site or when reuniting
with a mate. Known to live over 16 years, pairs form long-lasting bonds
and stay together for many years. They return to the same breeding and
nesting sites year after year.
Another fascinating detail about Black
Oystercatchers is their nest locations. They lay their eggs on the bare
rock of a headland, just above the high-tide line, with only a few
pieces of gravel or shell for nesting material. An optical illusion
hides the egg as its mottled colour matches the surrounding habitat.
Ravens fly back and forth over a nest site for long periods of time,
searching for eggs they cannot find.
Natural predators of eggs and chicks are ravens,
crows, eagles and other birds. When a predator approaches, adults give
a single warning call and use decoy tactics. Chicks instantly flatten
themselves against a rock, under tiny ledges or in small cracks. The
colour of their downy feathers is almost a perfect match to surrounding
rocks. Adults have few predators.
A 12-year study by local researchers includes
banding chicks on nesting sites in Laskeek Bay. Bands on birds can
reveal how long birds may live; if they return to nest in the same
place each year; and where they go throughout the year. Bands include a
black plastic band over a white plastic band on a left leg, with a
metal band on a right leg. Metal bands have large numbers that can
easily be read with binoculars. Birds banded in Laskeek Bay have been
sighted elsewhere, such as Darwin Sound, Cumshewa Inlet and off Lyell
Island.
What can cause Oystercatcher populations to drop?
Oystercatchers no longer nest on small islands in inlets like Skidegate
because of introduced raccoons and rats. Human disturbance can cause
adult birds to desert their nest. Ocean pollution is another factor
limiting populations. The ‘1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill in
Alaska killed 20 percent of adult Black Oystercatchers in the area. In
heavily oiled shorelines, 39 percent of adults did not lay eggs, and
many chicks that hatched did not survive.
Oystercatchers can be considered the
“canaries in the coalmine” on the ocean’s
edge. In other words, if the oystercatcher population in a given area
drops, we should take note because major changes in the marine
environment may be occurring.
^
top

A Limestone
Experience
Download [pdf • 72kb]
by Cole Murdaugh and Eryn Sinclair, published in
the QCI Observer in July 2002
Humpback whales, porpoises, black bears,
jellyfish, deer, woodpeckers, eagles, ancient murrelets. These are just
a few of the creatures we encountered this year during our 'School in
the Bush' journey. Each spring, the students of the Living and Learning
School embark on a wilderness leadership, environmental science
experience. This year we chose once again to visit Limestone Island and
the ancient murrelet colony that is carefully monitored by volunteers
and scientists associated with the Laskeek Bay Conservation Society.
One of the most powerful ways for children to
become enthralled as caretakers and appreciaters of the natural world
is for them to become immersed in it. When they have the opportunity to
positively interact with nature and to learn to live lightly with the
earth, they gain skills and wisdom that can last a lifetime.
This year, one student's keen interest caught the
attention of staff at Limestone and he was invited to stay on as a
volunteer. The following is a piece of writing by this student,
reflecting some of what he learned and experienced:
My name’s Cole Murdaugh, age 12, and I
volunteered as one of the younger volunteers on East Limestone Island
(ELI.) A normal duration for a volunteer lasts about a week. For
transportation reasons my time at ELI lasted six days.
During my time there, we were mainly studying the
Ancient Murrelet bird colony. The Ancient Murrelet is a threatened bird
living in only small colonies in Alaska, Russia, Japan and of course
the Queen Charlotte Islands. The special thing about the Ancient
Murrelet colony on Haida Gwaii is that we have over 70% of the world's
Ancient Murrelet population.
To monitor the Ancient Murrelet population on ELI,
researchers have set up plastic funnel fences going down a slope
towards the ocean. Because of the Ancient Murrelet’s many
predators, these birds move into action at night. Between 10:00 PM and
2:30 AM volunteers trekked to North Cove where the funnels were. Then
we waited until a chick came stumbling down the funnel.
The way that this works is that the parents of the
Ancient Murrelet chicks will teach their offspring their call and
specific pitch. The parents then fly down to the ocean where they will
wait and make their call for the chicks to follow. Then the chicks have
to fend for themselves, stumbling out of their burrow and making their
way down towards the light. At this pitch dark time of night, the
reflection on the water is the strongest source of light around. If the
chicks successfully make it into the ocean they will follow their
parents call, hopefully meet up with them and move to safer water.
Let's get back to if you catch a chick in a
funnel. First you will be given some bird bags to put the chicks in.
While you're waiting at the bottom of the funnel, you will hear a
little bit of rustling on the plastic. Next you turn on your light to
see if there are any chicks. If so, you bend over and carefully put the
chick in bag. Pull the bag tight so they don’t try and pop
out! Then take the chick over to the banding shelter. This is where the
banding, weighing, checking their webbed feet and all the data entry
happens. Once all the data is recorded, you take them back to their
home funnel, take them out on the beach and find a good slope for them
to follow. Then turn off your light, open your bag and listen to the
clinking band and the motoring feet in the water.
It is truly a unique experience! I am very
thankful for the opportunity.
^
top

Haida
Gwaii/QCI map highlights
Download [pdf • 2,324kb]
^
top

Wildly
Wonderful Rockfish
Download [pdf • 78kb]
by Lynn Lee, published in the QCI Observer in
June 2003
A rockfish is not just a rockfish…there
are reddish orange ones with yellow eyes, mottled black ones that
school in hundreds, intricate navy and yellow ones, copper ones, yellow
ones, green ones, blue ones and more! There are rockfish that live near
the bottom in shallow kelp beds, rockfish that school in the water
around kelp forests, and rockfish that live near the ocean bottom from
the shallows to the continental shelf. All North Pacific rockfish
belong to the genus Sebastes, from the Greek word for
“magnificent”. Their smaller tropical cousins
include delicate lionfish and the deadly stonefish.
Rockfish are long-lived, late maturing fish.
Yelloweye have been aged up to 117 years. Quillback up to 76 years.
opper up to 45 years. One rougheye, a deep water rockfish, was aged at
205 years, holding title as the oldest individual fish ever recorded
– of course, it may have lived to a riper old age if not for
being “sampled”. Some rockfish take 20 years or
more to mature. As the breeding females get larger, they produce more
and more young. When we think of fish, we generally think of them as
laying fertilized eggs which then hatch – Sebastes are
different. They bear live young. Free-swimming larvae released in early
spring leave their birth place on a current and a prayer, hoping to
avert hungry mouths and land on an appropriate place to live.
Rockfish have become recent celebrities in the
saga of North Pacific fisheries. The debate arose south of us, where
commercial and recreational fisheries have longer histories, and where
shallower inshore rockfish are no longer as abundant as they used to
be. Stories from the 1910s tell of expansive “pumpkin
patches” – “garbage” yelloweye
rockfish caught in the commercial lingcod fishery and left to die
floating on the surface. The yelloweye was once considered the most
abundant rockfish in the Strait of Georgia and now they are hard to
come by.
South of the Canadian border, the situation is
even more dire. Rockfish commonly sold as Pacific red snapper
– yelloweye, canary and boccacio – are in danger of
extinction and tough fishing restrictions are under consideration to
ensure their survival. In Puget Sound, commercial rockfish fisheries
were no longer viable by the ‘80s and officially ended in
1994. Recreational fishing continued. The size of rockfish caught
steadily declined, as did the numbers of mature fish.
For conservation and other reasons, small marine
sanctuaries were established in the San Juan Islands through the
‘80s and ‘90s. News from these sanctuaries is that
they now contain the majority of mature rockfish and represent the home
ranges for many. From there, larval rockfish can spread to seed
properties nearby, although it may be decades before the implications
are understood.
The good news is that we are not there yet.
Although there are undoubtedly localized areas around Haida Gwaii that
have seen a decline in rockfish populations due to fishing pressure,
there are also areas that still seem to have healthy populations. Local
longliners who have fished here for decades still fish some of the same
areas they have for years. Scientists from Washington figure that BC
conditions reflect where they were 20 years ago. So now is the time to
give serious thought to the future of magnificant Sebastes and their
neighbours of the underworld.
I have been fortunate enough to have had the
opportunity to explore the underwater world around most of Haida Gwaii
in my 9 years here. The sea surface around kelp beds still boils with
feeding black rockfish schooling in the hundreds - their beady eyes
staring at me when I intrude on their world. Juvenile tigers frolick in
the shallows. Delicate chinas hover amongst kelp fronds. This I wish
for generations to follow.
^ top
|