Thursday January 5
Be prepared, our last day will be long and filled with nostalgia. I’ve been telling the moli that I miss them since Monday because I knew this day would come.
At breakfast we are reminded that working today is optional but no one turns down counting the last sector. There is active conversation for the people staying as to what they will do until the 12th or 20th when they leave. They are assured there are plenty of projects that could use a free hand. We met up at the Empire Cafe once again to ride out in the Midway Limo (see Day 20). Five of us go to one end and four go to the other end. Sector One is again from the runway to the beach and is often referred to as the Frigate Point sector.
Hunker walk
While paint is gathered, I capture this Black Foot in his classic "hunkered down" walking position along the runway. I have speculated that since they prefer the beach, they have adapted for less wind resistance. I am surrounded by scientists, however, that do not appreciate much speculation unsupported by hard data.
This sector has had paths recently cut through it and flagged. The two groups work toward each other end to end, painting every nest encountered between the paths. I found the paint line from the previous runway group and refreshed it as I went, more to keep track of myself than for anyone else, painting unmarked nests from there up to and in at the nau paka.
Looking lengthwise into the sector
Runway to right, beach to left
Deep in nau paka
I went in and out, Gil went up and down, the others in our group doing the same. I could sometimes hear Gil through the bushes and we both stuck our guns in the air for location. We might be only five feet apart! We got our bearings whenever we popped out and could look around.
A pop out - oddly reassuring to see the ocean
Equally reassuring to see the flag marking the trail
A few more patches of thick and thin. Eventually I came to the trail the other group was coming to and used it to head to the beach.
Ribbons and flags - last man/woman out pulls them so they don't become debris
This little Brown Noddy is unperturbed by me reaching past him to paint the nest
He's not asleep, just curiously resting
The beach at last!
And what a glorious beach it was, called Frigate Point. I worked back along the bush, through anyplace that would let me in, making observations about the whole process and all the tidbits I had learned along the way.
Count or no count?
This Black Foot above has a nest very close to the water. One of the scientists along believes these nests should not even be counted since the first winter storm will wash it away. She had the same opinion about the birds near the derelict buildings because the chicks will eat lead paint chips and die. She is right of course, but we are here to count nests so this one is counted as are the ones by the buildings. Sobering is the thought about how much death is certain to occur between now and summer.
Abandoned
We have no way of knowing if this egg was abandoned for good reason. It may have been a young bird uncertain of where to lay or how to make a proper nest. It may have been a wise decision because it was not viable. It is almost certain to be washed away in the first big storm.
Safe?
This nest is a little higher and the parent confident. The location provides shade and cool breezes and is a convenient walk to the windy take off zone for both adults and fledging chick, so long as the waves do not wash it away before the time comes. Just past this one I came across the well defined marks of the other group; this was my last nest to mark.
Last paint
The tide line contains debris all the way around the island
I helped Susan tote back her beach debris and we met at the limo. Only one missing in action - Gil. I was worried he was looking for me but he was just catching a few pockets on his way out about five minutes later. We did it, we completed the nest count for Midway!
Aloha Frigate Point
(Greater Frigate in upper left corner)
The limo delivered us back to Charlie barracks and I got a shot of the end of the building. The plane that takes us back tonight is bringing in Wyland who will paint this very wall. It has been pressure washed for him and I am promised a photo of the finished scene by someone who is staying on. Also on the plane is Sylvia Earle, author and well known marine scientist from NOAA , and Susan Middleton, portrait photographer now turned to wildlife - everyone is geared up for the VIPS, again.
Charlie before
We decided to take care of business and rode over to the Chugach office to pay up! We wanted to get a picture with Darlene (aka Santa) and we were in luck as JR, the logistics manager was there too. Anne Bell from FWS visitor servies, walked up as we got the picture and she said she wanted it for the presentation that night - we will be "the counters" during orientation for some time to come!
Chugach staffers - the people behind the creature comforts we enjoyed daily
L to R: Darlene Holst, Gil, James Roberson, Sharon
Bench buddies
I sat to peal off my shoes and socks and say farewell to my bench buddies next to the barracks. We got our laundry in the machine and started packing up. The results were up at the Clipper House and we lingered there at lunch contemplating all that had occurred.
Pau 1/3/12 Pau 1/5/12
Keep in mind the scale. Eastern on the left is 334 acres, Spit was drawn in on the Sand map but is only 12 acres whereas Sand is 1200 acres. It is odd they used Hawaiian but several of the counting team are from the islands and use pau (pow) for done. Pau hana is work over!
Midway is very much not Hawaiian; it was and is US government and that was as unique for us as the overwhelming wildlife population. (see my page - Midway: Gov't Island)
Midway is very much not Hawaiian; it was and is US government and that was as unique for us as the overwhelming wildlife population. (see my page - Midway: Gov't Island)
Contemplation
After lunch we decided to go snorkel at the pier. I couldn’t bring myself to turn in dry wetsuits! We didn't risk our little digital camera when we went out before because while it is waterproof, the first one we had leaked. We decided to try it today. The water shots are all Gil's.
I have a yellow snorkel and am about to go under the old cargo pier
Other world
This color is very hard to describe. It isn't clear today as we have had the wind waves all week. The extremely white sand almost seems like chalk in the water - giving it this other world ambiance for these ordinary chubs.
Giant Trevally
This big jack is the reason I wanted to snorkel here since we don't see them this large on Kauai; not this close to shore. He was about 3'. We also saw the thick lip jack the big eye jack. I saw three little turtles and a few butterfly fish, hundreds of yellow fin goat fish, and among them, a large puffer fish.
Land from the water, love it!
Beach sand
This picture doesn't do it justice, it is pure white. It is not soft, however, like over by the Clipper House; it has a crust. In a search for better words to describe it, it is fragile but hard, like an eggshell. My feet do go through the top and leave prints but it isn't comfortable and conveys the message that it is better to appreciate it than impact it . . . I know I am deep in nostalgia mode now.
We came in and cleaned up and sorted things out. We both donated our shoes to any future volunteer who might be so desperate they would need them, also my back pack including the safety pin that kept it together in spite of lugging paint cans. Gil returned the wet-suits to the boat house while I took the donations to the volunteer center at Fish & Wildlife and stopped by the Library to drop off three paperbacks and take one for the airports in between here and home.
My white bike reflected in the window
Speaking of bikes, mine served me well from beginning to end. While others had multipe flat tires and Gil's had to have the pedal cranks rebuilt, mine trudged through gravel and sand, cement and asphalt without fail. Our bags were turned in at 5pm so they could be weighed in at the airport early. We ran upstairs to leave our re-gurge lighters at Susan Scott's door.
She had her door art up - on the door and on the floor. The face of the little whimsey is made from a broken clicker (or tally wacker). I think we all had replacements on those. They don't hold up well filled with sand when they go down with us. We each carried two - one for Laysan and one for Black Foot. Our counts were taken regularly by leaders and recorded by two different recorders in the event one notepad could be lost.
We went and picked up our dinner and carried it to Capt. Brooks pub so we could have the last of our wine with dinner and reminisce some more. The three-month volunteer gang showed up to eat with us. So did John Klavitter, the deputy mgr, and his wife Leona plus Pete Leary, the biologist. Sue Schumeister, refuge manager, and her husband Bob were on our flight and we got a few moments to talk with them before, during, and after the flight. Turns out he grew up in the same small town Gil is from, Lemont , Ill.
Bonin Petrel
I finally took a picture of a little petrel at night. It doesn't do him justice, they are adorable. The beak is long and curved and doesn't show here; the feet two-tone like a little sand on them; some have whiter faces. They are just very difficult to photograph because of their night/day patterns. Sorry sweet heart..
The very kind Beth Flint arrived at Bradley Aviation in Honolulu
Friday January 6
Friday January 6
Our plane to Kauai was delayed but we were OK, fairly out of it, estranged from so much human energy bouncing all around us. Once in Lihue we took a cab to the auto repair shop where my car awaited us. Poor Therese had a breakdown while she was housesitting and between her, good neighbors, a good mechanic with a cousin in the towing business, etc, etc, the car was running and Gil drove us home. I wasn’t asleep but I don’t remember much for the next 24 hours.
I vaguely heard our old friend the shama thrush singing early in the morning but woke up later to the clucking and crowing of the wild chickens that roam freely – not quite so sweet a sound as the moli of Midway.
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