tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24347939885437654152024-03-12T20:50:32.426-07:00Whale-SpotUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-32271435006452654402016-07-25T14:29:00.002-07:002016-07-26T05:59:38.744-07:00Whitby: Swallowed by a Whale.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-pk0RSuY_HK3dNrZ2T-mU8nkMng4crsMaFoBZa0iQD0CrNzWe9xWvBsZjEOQS7xJiYJxEi7SpJg3khDsq-E3VHZXkavSYxNpBlTUfagGGULQk7u_9eaF7otoyWuxcqngAENtzMeVuuFn/s1600/DSC_0111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-pk0RSuY_HK3dNrZ2T-mU8nkMng4crsMaFoBZa0iQD0CrNzWe9xWvBsZjEOQS7xJiYJxEi7SpJg3khDsq-E3VHZXkavSYxNpBlTUfagGGULQk7u_9eaF7otoyWuxcqngAENtzMeVuuFn/s320/DSC_0111.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whitby</td></tr>
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Looking down from Whitby Abbey steps on a hot summer's evening, it's not difficult to imagine the harbour below jammed with sailing vessels.<br />
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I was listening to Rose, who is a local story teller and tour guide. She was telling us about the days of the herring fishery and about Whitby's amusing characters such as "Gravel Arse" the short legged pirate. She told us about the terrible storms that occur every winter and about the way that collier boats would come into Whitby for shelter and beach themselves on the sands in the bay called "Colliers' Hope". Some boats were inevitably swept past the narrow entrance to the harbour and ran onto rocks at the foot of the cliffs. One of those wrecks inspired Bram Stoker's story of Dracula, whose ship foundered on this very shore.<br />
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Whitby always had its back to the land and its face to the sea. The route inland is over high moorland and through narrow valleys and it was never the best way to transport anything. The town was more or less cut off from the country and all trade was by sea, or "the whale road". This made Whitby a natural breeding ground for explorers and adventurers like Captain Cook and William Scoresby. Young Whitby men did not "run away to sea", seafaring was probably the future that all of them aspired to and their families wanted it for them too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DyKKi1TYtiYZynqEmVd09mWA3R-t7OmGR6pIntBaHTbFnzAi6bK0KE_bP8h3SqCvdiPGLHtO7msXEvh4OojXEEfoc-I3hDI4srpFiPwHMQcODpZsrZn9AZd1MIcD1LcZ3A32TVzNXHXi/s1600/img522.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8DyKKi1TYtiYZynqEmVd09mWA3R-t7OmGR6pIntBaHTbFnzAi6bK0KE_bP8h3SqCvdiPGLHtO7msXEvh4OojXEEfoc-I3hDI4srpFiPwHMQcODpZsrZn9AZd1MIcD1LcZ3A32TVzNXHXi/s320/img522.jpg" width="210" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Port Stanley</td></tr>
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When James Bartley sailed out of Whitby on the Star of the East in 1891 he was just a teenager. Getting a berth on a whaler was his ticket to fame and fortune and he was proud and excited.<br />
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The whaling industry took men from ports like Liverpool and Whitby around the world, to the Americas, Africa the Arctic and Antarctic and through all the oceans. It's no coincidence that Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands is twinned with Whitby and both sport their whalebone arches as a reminder of those whaling days. And the whales are back. I have watched a pod of long, slim Sei whales from the shore, just a short walk from Stanley's harbour, as they cruised past on the surface, looking very like submarines.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRLmZIU8B3RH_jXUkDOovQ1OOuaD6CMc94qUIBcCvhyphenhyphenlyFhyphenhyphengCZus3YVU_2jmPr8dTfCBIBQ-uQuzY461Vob1aCFJHGl-eY2FwJpe_JhuGQhhy9FYtb5sM9LX9qnQcHGswciSDibbDzfe/s1600/DSC_0140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiRLmZIU8B3RH_jXUkDOovQ1OOuaD6CMc94qUIBcCvhyphenhyphenlyFhyphenhyphengCZus3YVU_2jmPr8dTfCBIBQ-uQuzY461Vob1aCFJHGl-eY2FwJpe_JhuGQhhy9FYtb5sM9LX9qnQcHGswciSDibbDzfe/s320/DSC_0140.jpg" width="211" /></a><br />
It was to the Falkland Islands that the Star of the East was headed. James must have showed real enthusiasm because the skipper gave him an early opportunity to harpoon a whale himself. He stood at the bow of the light whaleboat that was rowed by six strong men with a helmsman at the tiller. James wedged his knee against the stem post to steady himself as they gained on the whale while it was taking in oxygen to prepare to sound for the deeps again. There would only be one chance so he urged the crew on to get really close before he let go of the lance, but he left it too late. The whale was already committed to his dive and the hump in front of James rolled forward and downwards. Inevitably, the huge tail flukes of the whale came up, right under the boat which was thrown aside like a swatted fly. The other whaleboats closed in and rescued the men from the chilling water, but James was missing.<br />
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The story goes that the whale was killed the next day and hauled along-side the Star of the East to be dissected. When they opened the stomach, the crew found their young companion in a sorry state with all of his exposed skin, especially around his face, hands and arms, bleached to a deadly whiteness by the acid in the whale's gut. This was to be expected, but the unique thing about this tale is that James Bartley survived, although he lost his sight and was never able to see again.<br />
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Accounts vary on the detail, but it seems that our hero was extremely disturbed by his experience and took weeks, or months, to recover enough to work again, but he apparently did. They say that, when he was at home in England, his mottled, half-eaten appearance terrified children, and even dogs would shy away.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsjJM1Rtgz6EpJgWTlxMEfV09YOj-ZDwZ0E8pWYvYzWfx6He5ZBlPYv3zuGM0yM1bz46JNOGFc9X_IQc9f7k_l47YthfOnqkWTVlwYoAiD7LBvSXg8emrZ6It3VIFSgqFx0heyM8rS3MN/s1600/DSC_0160+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsjJM1Rtgz6EpJgWTlxMEfV09YOj-ZDwZ0E8pWYvYzWfx6He5ZBlPYv3zuGM0yM1bz46JNOGFc9X_IQc9f7k_l47YthfOnqkWTVlwYoAiD7LBvSXg8emrZ6It3VIFSgqFx0heyM8rS3MN/s320/DSC_0160+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sperm Whale, "Thar she blows!" Actually he's a boy.</td></tr>
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The best known account of the story was not written until the 1920s when Ambrose John Wilson investigated the case as part of study into the possibility of Jonah living in a whale. This was not the only case of a man being swallowed by a whale, but the only one where the man survived, so there was a lot hanging on it. Wilson seems to have believed the story but most scientists remain sceptical, particularly about the length of time that Bartley was starved of oxygen.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0gaYYvDZBR8ok8FLzeBvTC5G8-r3dGuCor01hAXRGGxTyNTcl6Y-dBK-1ohfkvLeDNynZ0O7RAx8qHkmk2ae-OsrqeFeYQL-WRUbs7ZJ_-cIMG2EwBobev-PYey9CN5URj6k4p43AXhAU/s1600/IMG_4513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0gaYYvDZBR8ok8FLzeBvTC5G8-r3dGuCor01hAXRGGxTyNTcl6Y-dBK-1ohfkvLeDNynZ0O7RAx8qHkmk2ae-OsrqeFeYQL-WRUbs7ZJ_-cIMG2EwBobev-PYey9CN5URj6k4p43AXhAU/s320/IMG_4513.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sperm whale sounding.</td></tr>
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The only whale that could have swallowed a man whole would be a sperm whale, like Moby Dick. Killer whales could eat a man but they are really just big dolphins and were not hunted like the true whales. The baleen whales only have a narrow gullet because they feed on small fish and krill.<br />
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I once spent a couple of weeks studying sperm whales off Norway and they are really fascinating. especially since they dive to such phenomenal depths for food. Supposing Bartley's whale was uninjured, it might have taken him down to depth of more than two kilometers. If the journey down didn't kill him, the trip to the surface would have. However, if James had struck a fateful blow before his boat was smashed, the injured whale may have travelled at speed near the surface, which is what they do if pursued.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpWyEHDOqI38v4SdDxzOLVKwA6s6V2mpFYML3B3ynGwe1oC5Hh9NiqFtDxtIONCQBbbDaK9vCuE52DJAepAuk7Ue_nBrTZWkUbPT4ZFYv7bCG9MIVdrVJ6nuZ4TMMMY8qOIeZ-2MfJA9t/s1600/DSC_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpWyEHDOqI38v4SdDxzOLVKwA6s6V2mpFYML3B3ynGwe1oC5Hh9NiqFtDxtIONCQBbbDaK9vCuE52DJAepAuk7Ue_nBrTZWkUbPT4ZFYv7bCG9MIVdrVJ6nuZ4TMMMY8qOIeZ-2MfJA9t/s320/DSC_0003.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sperm whale painting by Robin Stevenson.</td></tr>
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I would like to believe this story. It's certainly a good tale, but maybe there's more to tell?Perhaps James Bartley did have an encounter with a whale and it spat him out when chased. There are so many unanswered questions and discrepancies.<br />
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For a start, it seems that Bartley was from Gloucester, not Whitby, and there is no record of him being on the crew of the Star of the East, which was not a whaling vessel, though it was in the Falklands around the right time. The Star of the East was a British ship from Liverpool but it did not sail from Whitby to the Falklands, but from Auckland, New Zealand. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0H2So1Q2adZmcc_J_6tcychy_XTGxNpvOtHOOTMFTQnk40oBsv223hC8MSnfpw92iRV1cFAqr0Q2-7o47oabPvTxL8CklkRkIhvnIBeWUMgCCDkqfsq6ntQkD78_eGnCDqf5wi-hxCTX-/s1600/DSC_0365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0H2So1Q2adZmcc_J_6tcychy_XTGxNpvOtHOOTMFTQnk40oBsv223hC8MSnfpw92iRV1cFAqr0Q2-7o47oabPvTxL8CklkRkIhvnIBeWUMgCCDkqfsq6ntQkD78_eGnCDqf5wi-hxCTX-/s320/DSC_0365.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abbey Steps at Whitby.</td></tr>
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I have described the story roughly as Rose, the Whitby storyteller told it to me, with the whaleboat being tipped over as the whale sounded, but one story describes the injured whale going deep and then deliberately coming up under the boat and grabbing it in his jaws. Fatally wounded by the harpoon, it eventually died and came to the surface.<br />
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At least there is one solid piece of evidence that several sources write about; James' headstone is in a churchyard in Gloucester. The inscription reads "<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">James Bartley- a modern day Jonah.</span> 1870-1909". But I can't find any trace of it. If anyone has seen the headstone and can point me to it, I will go and look. I'm beginning to think he never existed at all!<br />
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In the end, I believe you should never let the truth get in the way of a good story. Just imagine, on a stroll around Whitby's (or Gloucester's) dockside, meeting a lop-sided blind man with ghastly white patches to his skin and perhaps hanks of hair missing. Imagine the tales he might tell to explain his appearance. You might be shocked, even horrified, but also fascinated. Would you buy him a drink? Did he really get that face from being inside a whale or was he scalded by hot oil from the blubber rendering process, or was he, by any chance, an albino?<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-56254093049343579152013-09-06T07:10:00.003-07:002013-09-10T13:24:49.786-07:00Dolphin Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagdv10oYrSuGmhKESCwCmCCRtVew3iVO8usO0ZwQDs_UDZUta7HOOGC_uLjuoILK9uJz2C4OF7OW4EH5WKs0mxGiFw3YfeOdelh-6InEoRwmDQTbMJoxgPKumiTF_lABmn9ll5l-abFM0/s1600/DSC_0273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagdv10oYrSuGmhKESCwCmCCRtVew3iVO8usO0ZwQDs_UDZUta7HOOGC_uLjuoILK9uJz2C4OF7OW4EH5WKs0mxGiFw3YfeOdelh-6InEoRwmDQTbMJoxgPKumiTF_lABmn9ll5l-abFM0/s1600/DSC_0273.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbMtl8lfpBQ9hdHTOAbQAKAs_vZmXWTnW1b1NSUcmdJvkPHlj71cd-qnHG5x5hrF9gY2nyFEMKoU1tHivAAltIF7IfpgDxTvgf8hJmCrNxpyU_YrtBeTy7hs2nVDSzPttqVGkpaBZ0I0e/s1600/DSC_0118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXbMtl8lfpBQ9hdHTOAbQAKAs_vZmXWTnW1b1NSUcmdJvkPHlj71cd-qnHG5x5hrF9gY2nyFEMKoU1tHivAAltIF7IfpgDxTvgf8hJmCrNxpyU_YrtBeTy7hs2nVDSzPttqVGkpaBZ0I0e/s320/DSC_0118.JPG" width="200" /></a>The coastal towns of Massachusetts were at the heart of the 19th century American whaling industry and, because America was the biggest participant in the trade, most of the wealth gained from whaling accrued there. The great Quaker whaling families (Folger, Macy, Starbuck etc.) were based in Nantucket but Boston was the financial capital where they invested their money and also where colleges and churches were founded on whale oil.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBPXaIw5ghyphenhyphenrdV8xSOPo44WChnml_hchzHu7Kh0nXNzjvAEF958UuNLgBRh6d_Fu_wHFvtFrm1Y-ZHrFc83fiBCuVvUqslGEColTbcPuxnohq-z7KMXsgcsCv0jafra1cQTHuSuoIzjVF/s1600/DSC_0066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBPXaIw5ghyphenhyphenrdV8xSOPo44WChnml_hchzHu7Kh0nXNzjvAEF958UuNLgBRh6d_Fu_wHFvtFrm1Y-ZHrFc83fiBCuVvUqslGEColTbcPuxnohq-z7KMXsgcsCv0jafra1cQTHuSuoIzjVF/s320/DSC_0066.JPG" width="200" /></a>In the early days of small, locally-built wooden boats you could see right whales from the beach but soon the local grounds were exhausted and the New England whalers had to travel ever further afield; north to Greenland and even round the Horn and up the rim of the Pacific Ocean to the Galapagos, Hawaii and Alaska.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJx0-3M5WGcryKBGUizhTFdcWu1AsLpmiE5iLSFI-rteDH8_AaGTDYGQr5IxHpVP1WNPze7HmH7koKJG9b9J570NYCrH7VUTU9ge2ifg4yKwPs_U7AFMWXBpNt9JmA97c8fJ22-popinpE/s1600/DSC_0111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJx0-3M5WGcryKBGUizhTFdcWu1AsLpmiE5iLSFI-rteDH8_AaGTDYGQr5IxHpVP1WNPze7HmH7koKJG9b9J570NYCrH7VUTU9ge2ifg4yKwPs_U7AFMWXBpNt9JmA97c8fJ22-popinpE/s320/DSC_0111.jpg" width="131" /></a>Today the Georges Bank and the ledges off the New England coast are the new whaling grounds for tourists. Whale-watch tours operate from Boston in Massachusetts and from Kennebunkport and Ipswich in New Hampshire. Eastwards, in the Gulf of Maine, boats go out from Portland, Boothbay Harbour and Bar Harbour and then, at Eastport, the deep water of the Bay of Fundy comes in close enough to watch from shore.<br />
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The local newspapers have been running a story that right whales may be breeding in the Gulf of Maine as well as the Bay of Fundy. One report says that 20 calves were produces last winter. The gestation period is 12 months so that mating and breeding takes place at the same place in mid-winter. These animals are extremely rare now with only a few hundred left, meaning that they have gone through a "genetic bottleneck" leaving them with a very small gene pool. Any breeding at all is exciting news. I would dearly love to catch a glimpse of one.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0p_rKB7R-dF4T227Lf54xe37TrIBfN1GFopVUtJANgctLN7LsUV-83oHw2gRwQPE0yTp37wB-L0xIMAR4QW3f6jjNpxJIUbA-HREsBL3s7c4WNQo4ywlvwFkwIHXfaJyIER6IAP4CzOu/s1600/DSC_0337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS0p_rKB7R-dF4T227Lf54xe37TrIBfN1GFopVUtJANgctLN7LsUV-83oHw2gRwQPE0yTp37wB-L0xIMAR4QW3f6jjNpxJIUbA-HREsBL3s7c4WNQo4ywlvwFkwIHXfaJyIER6IAP4CzOu/s320/DSC_0337.JPG" width="200" /></a>Seasons vary, but my own observation is that whales in general are harder to find in the high tourist season (before Labour Day) than they were 20 years ago. There could be many factors involved but high water temperatures must be one of them.<br />
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During our visit in August last year, all of the Bay of Fundy boats (from Maine and Canada) spent a couple of weeks chasing the same two minke whales while the Gulf of Maine had no whales at all. This week there is a humpback mother and calf off New Hampshire and a few minkes, and that's not a lot of whales. But we decided to part with our money and go out from Portland anyway.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxGEA5gamJg0a4HKOkMytAg8PWfCneQAaE8jTzmEEAEyPF6H_zwVbi6AhaP9YLK_yDQXwV8IpeDVMBzb-RRN7A9E-sGrgvwvrqZWql2z4scmlo_xi9Jn29Um8NnuJIHczUFlDTccHsfzt/s1600/DSC_0089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxGEA5gamJg0a4HKOkMytAg8PWfCneQAaE8jTzmEEAEyPF6H_zwVbi6AhaP9YLK_yDQXwV8IpeDVMBzb-RRN7A9E-sGrgvwvrqZWql2z4scmlo_xi9Jn29Um8NnuJIHczUFlDTccHsfzt/s320/DSC_0089.JPG" width="200" /></a>The Odyssey Whale Watch Tour Co. operates a smart little boat from the tourist quay in Portland Maine. It can comfortably carry about 50 passengers swiftly out to the deep water quite so that trips last about four hours. They do not have the success rate of some of the other operators but offer a refund or a free trip if they let you down. It was a lovely day to be out so we were not too worried, but the signs looked good.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8wc5eQWehRylWaHTUl_zdGVXeUTq8wLv3Jk75wKXOyhXpV-lm1YnyDXy6rWv5KuGxjqHt4YQRXSBXqPLrivvzGuXMnoy9izcUCFHkBeUjOZduu_1hep1u_xV1E5feVZVWQ51bWN6PwzW/s1600/DSC_0304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8wc5eQWehRylWaHTUl_zdGVXeUTq8wLv3Jk75wKXOyhXpV-lm1YnyDXy6rWv5KuGxjqHt4YQRXSBXqPLrivvzGuXMnoy9izcUCFHkBeUjOZduu_1hep1u_xV1E5feVZVWQ51bWN6PwzW/s1600/DSC_0304.JPG" width="200" /></a>The sea was flat and visibility was excellent. We saw common seals in the harbour and soon passed a flock of small wading birds swimming in the sea. These phalaropes are extraordinary birds that spend most of their time out in the open ocean but breed ashore in the high Arctic. The females are brightly coloured while the males are camouflaged because they are "home-husbands". The hen takes the lead in courtship and lays the eggs but leaves the male to incubate them while she regains her fitness for a quick get-away. Arctic summers are short so a swift turn-around time can be crucial.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd1BfTLXR1vElw902D17Vypok3NwgcSoxMWOyb5-2vzVSPL101mzAXxlpSNLmkZ2rynR9bFobuWt4HXW0xrqs0XphlEMIEb1W7Nmcp4pSUi7j_HcVEpRtJ7lDsV5q2txyGB6fxAMcP5GvQ/s1600/DSC_0189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd1BfTLXR1vElw902D17Vypok3NwgcSoxMWOyb5-2vzVSPL101mzAXxlpSNLmkZ2rynR9bFobuWt4HXW0xrqs0XphlEMIEb1W7Nmcp4pSUi7j_HcVEpRtJ7lDsV5q2txyGB6fxAMcP5GvQ/s320/DSC_0189.JPG" width="200" /></a>Phalaropes often follow whales so I took them to be a good omen. However, it soon became noticeable that there was not a lot of other surface activity going on. We saw few gulls, no auks, skuas or petrels, all of which chase the same food as the whales. We did see a few gannets that were probably chasing mackerel.<br />
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Another good indicator is the number of fishing boats over the deep water. When the feeding is good, the upwellings attract big commercial fish like tuna and swordfish and there can be a small city of boats out there; we saw three or four, otherwise all the boats were crewed by lobstermen.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjygOY7IsJDGZcJA1LeX8Lbyen1s4oWFdGb70ba9wIqdhDhmAmja6ovZuAfnVb0vtxbgBmAfsGBrHTH18vNJI_9j26lif_1xO8vhquxOpdeOS0YbQn1bKIy4H0ji0TVXKFIj7om6mb1xX6K/s1600/DSC_0190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjygOY7IsJDGZcJA1LeX8Lbyen1s4oWFdGb70ba9wIqdhDhmAmja6ovZuAfnVb0vtxbgBmAfsGBrHTH18vNJI_9j26lif_1xO8vhquxOpdeOS0YbQn1bKIy4H0ji0TVXKFIj7om6mb1xX6K/s320/DSC_0190.JPG" width="200" /></a>A fellow passenger told me that this was his second trip on the boat. He had a free ticket due to seeing no whales on the last trip. "Looks like another no-show to me." And so, as far as big cetaceans are concerned, it turned out to be.<br />
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After three hours, we had taken a big bite out of the bay, making an arc with about a 10 mile radius. It was very pleasant to be out on the water and I could have hung in there for hours more, but were were heading for home.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9sdF3SN1_QiTdIPppWQAKsCMY21FTFeFJhcxMPVYUaJNI1KE1FtdznLvIl9lKI_HUcAIauLieMAPQPvi-t93kSVJ17C2wniSbIvsXQjldbQuwFNC32PrizIf1hhSC00uUNEAi3aM5yrd/s1600/DSC_0200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9sdF3SN1_QiTdIPppWQAKsCMY21FTFeFJhcxMPVYUaJNI1KE1FtdznLvIl9lKI_HUcAIauLieMAPQPvi-t93kSVJ17C2wniSbIvsXQjldbQuwFNC32PrizIf1hhSC00uUNEAi3aM5yrd/s320/DSC_0200.JPG" width="200" /></a>Suddenly the sound of the engines changed and we veered off to the north where the skipper had spotted some "commotion in the ocean". I could see gannets plunging and huge splashes so it looked like we might at least see some tuna feeding.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilH835ZQptIq0FWYYDJJ1E66Az7nlu7MqDuQTk-R_jTDfPj-kmVA_DZKJ7qkrLp0RWm9vKY5DnWXRLYdE0ogplzpYUXhr1APc4rliZyYYlSoEQY_FjHJEob411cVdGO_C1HeCDR4nySU3J/s1600/DSC_0205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilH835ZQptIq0FWYYDJJ1E66Az7nlu7MqDuQTk-R_jTDfPj-kmVA_DZKJ7qkrLp0RWm9vKY5DnWXRLYdE0ogplzpYUXhr1APc4rliZyYYlSoEQY_FjHJEob411cVdGO_C1HeCDR4nySU3J/s320/DSC_0205.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a>What we found was a sizeable school of Atlantic white-sided dolphins who gave us a half an hour of feverish activity. They did not seem to be hunting so much as playing and socialising, which is common with these highly intelligent, gregarious animals. The school consisted of males with big dorsal fins and smaller females with calves. They rode our bow-wave and then jumped in our wake as we left. They had made our day and saved the Odyssey Whale-watch Company a lot of money.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6ginEZfP2VXOqHZYQStLBMHjWKlWyVdGDOPWCG-SXHFJ-fK156-9LpU4LBJgUUr5V7maxzpxWD70iazi_Uo1g5N2UGQoqvinxHJU-Y2s5D7kuVOsXhp_i_DovspLZCNPVu70aF4m378e/s1600/DSC_0102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6ginEZfP2VXOqHZYQStLBMHjWKlWyVdGDOPWCG-SXHFJ-fK156-9LpU4LBJgUUr5V7maxzpxWD70iazi_Uo1g5N2UGQoqvinxHJU-Y2s5D7kuVOsXhp_i_DovspLZCNPVu70aF4m378e/s1600/DSC_0102.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red-necked phalaropes.</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-6023492184235255362013-08-21T03:39:00.003-07:002013-08-21T03:48:57.843-07:00PostscriptBack on dry land, I am still reading Philip Hoare's "<i>Leviathan</i>" and I heard his new book, <i>"The Sea Inside"</i>, being read aloud as BBC Radio 4's Book of the Week. My wife bought me a copy as soon as it came out and it topped the Guardian's Best Seller list this month. I'm going to take it to Maine with me next week. If you are at all interested in whales, or just love a good read, you have to read Philip Hoare.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0eQx4AMeuqoNwxB1vSjEhqsdTaF-P-EnDbHGyBquLgnfChDPgA5j0kff9UIwszCXeD6N9F_t4Kp5KXsYcHPbHdps-VTnKaHHnloYUgMcJwovSvICWcgN4i2BDJgMNyIuV3-Uc0ieeiFfI/s1600/418GzjMlquL._SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp,TopRight,12,-18_SH30_OU02_AA160_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0eQx4AMeuqoNwxB1vSjEhqsdTaF-P-EnDbHGyBquLgnfChDPgA5j0kff9UIwszCXeD6N9F_t4Kp5KXsYcHPbHdps-VTnKaHHnloYUgMcJwovSvICWcgN4i2BDJgMNyIuV3-Uc0ieeiFfI/s1600/418GzjMlquL._SL160_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-dp,TopRight,12,-18_SH30_OU02_AA160_.jpg" /></a>While the girls went shopping, my son James and I went after sperm whales.<br />
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Cambridge is a long way from the sea, but it has its own whales. Most of them are in the University Zoology Department in Downing Street so we headed for there first. Unfortunately it was closed, but we took time to visit the fin whale that adorns the front of the building. I suppose the brutalist, concrete building was designed around the whale. Now the whale seems to be turning to concrete himself as the weather bleaches his framework.<br />
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We peeked through the museum's dusty windows to see stacks of crates. All of the stuffed animals and bones have been removed but whales and dolphins still hang from the ceiling. Through the grime, in an unlit room, it looked like the skeletons were swimming round in tank, like those poor orcas in American zoos.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTOAQdXv2TvKMn-Jt18sFTxDjxKrAVxmdBcg2eDrgc44kOR5uqKLXzhK5etLW_3zx59xhRiEa7gELB1CQix70_WB590LefbJTLIwHv5l0Z8Yi_8fJqD4GUUeV3RXV1t9VWiC0ZYBGEqjk/s1600/DSC_0082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTOAQdXv2TvKMn-Jt18sFTxDjxKrAVxmdBcg2eDrgc44kOR5uqKLXzhK5etLW_3zx59xhRiEa7gELB1CQix70_WB590LefbJTLIwHv5l0Z8Yi_8fJqD4GUUeV3RXV1t9VWiC0ZYBGEqjk/s200/DSC_0082.JPG" width="200" /></a>There are two other mueums in Downing Street. The Sedgewick Museum has fossils and minerals, but no whales: the Anthropology Museum specialises in the Pacific Rim and has artefacts such as masks, totem poles and spears that relate to whales and whaling. I will spend a day there looking for whales in miniature.<br />
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The Whipple Museum is about the Histrory of Science. I bet they have some lamps that used to run on whale oil, but we were distracted by stacks of ghoulish medical equipment. I have an excuse to go back there too. But our primary traget was to get to the Scott Polar Institute.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-DQ2hxil4FaOkbw2Zfr35hg5YF2gCeMdsh1ks3q8fLV6jwIuUZn4pWdPJl-ELOj36HU9vL8ssF7yUH8CwN-mgtGMA5zUxcPHVnRPEaBf24wNk-mWLkQbbCoZyVFbjUAL0mYD8Ez4Rigg/s1600/DSC_0106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU-DQ2hxil4FaOkbw2Zfr35hg5YF2gCeMdsh1ks3q8fLV6jwIuUZn4pWdPJl-ELOj36HU9vL8ssF7yUH8CwN-mgtGMA5zUxcPHVnRPEaBf24wNk-mWLkQbbCoZyVFbjUAL0mYD8Ez4Rigg/s200/DSC_0106.JPG" width="200" /></a>I have driven past it often, but only been in once. From the road you can see a sculpture of Peter Scott (Robert Falcon Scott's son) as a boy, made by his mother. (There is another one of Peter posing as Peter Pan in London's Hyde Park.) By the front door there is a sinister looking gun that looks more industrial than any I have seen; like a tractor part rather than a weapon. It is a harpoon gun from a whaling ship and was made in the 1940s. That means that it was still being used when I was a young man.<br />
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Next to the gun there is a cauldron. It is not huge and could have been used to make witches' potions, or to boil up pig-swill on a farm, but it was actually kept on-board ships for rendering blubber. You can find them scattered around the old whaling stations such as the Falklands, Sychelles and South Georgia today. Imagine the thick, black, oily smoke generated by such a fire and the greasy chip-shop slime that would have adhered to the rails and discoloured the sails of whaling ships. Where would you get the wood to light a fire in any of those polar stations? You did not need to; whales and seals burn very well on their own.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWKNLKZPS6uBQoFLQQdVKMigmb2mcMxquQE3RCT5x7f4KxStaM0fI5OG5cReVxhDpQJ3pAp0OyTQPIVEkJenxGx4539TXpVYrrGl1k8dv4W2dEeJugY_uQ8o6MBq_UOjNaTs89TBoN6bi/s1600/DSC_0107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWKNLKZPS6uBQoFLQQdVKMigmb2mcMxquQE3RCT5x7f4KxStaM0fI5OG5cReVxhDpQJ3pAp0OyTQPIVEkJenxGx4539TXpVYrrGl1k8dv4W2dEeJugY_uQ8o6MBq_UOjNaTs89TBoN6bi/s200/DSC_0107.JPG" width="200" /></a>Inside the Scott Polar Museum, white is the dominant colour. The current exhibition is about the Inuits and I found no reference to whales but I know they still hunt toothed whales using traditional kayaks. However, a modern Inuit hunt involves dorys with outboard motors and high-powerd rifles.<br />
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There is a case of scrimshaw work (designs etched into the teeth of sperm whales) which I found hard to relate to any living creature. Unlike the Nantucket whaler-men who carved whales and sailing ships, our boys seemed to prefer to illustrate pretty ladies. May-be there was abetter market for them ashore?<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-79992235826018155672013-07-24T05:57:00.000-07:002013-07-31T05:13:11.774-07:00Media Summary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whale-day<br />
by Nicholas Stevenson</td></tr>
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How do you measure an Arctic day? Not in hours, minutes and seconds surely? In months and weeks? Or perhaps in the slow, steady rhythm of a whale's heart-beat?<br />
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It was late July. The sun had not set since May but we had hardly seen it for a week due to a series of storms that kept us ashore. On this, our last day on the island, it hung red, crackling and fizzing in a shredded sky. The water inside the harbour wall was a mirror, reflecting the sky, the red lighthouse and the old, yellow-painted cod-liver oil factory.<br />
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A mink swam out into the shallows and returned with a crab that it ate under the piers of the buildings where the gulls would not steal it from him. Further off, a merganser snorkeled its way across the bay then smashed though it's own reflection and disappeared beneath the water. My watch said it was 1 a.m. It was going to be a whale-day.<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My prize for winning a <i>BBC Wildlife</i> story competition was to take part in an <i>Earthwatch</i> expedition of my choice. I chose to watch sperm whales in the Norwegian Arctic, which proved to be quite an adventure; just what I hoped it would be. We were the first six "pathfinder" participants (three Brits and three Americans) on this new project and so we expected there to be a few wrinkles to sort out. The one we encountered was the weather, which is never any-one's fault. We had unusually rough seas most of the time and for two days even the large car-ferries could not sail. Of course this upset our program quite a bit.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr17lpK-CinCoS1kNIc_Z_Ag-dY9ABHHdj1rYLvhXQLq9i5AWsivgTbWokuvfPBG5NFCPvk-A_5aN1TulDpCHkYOTCo6_ilx2lkeGgc3AKfDMeSKMglL9t2XmvXtLjrcwS8buusPYh2MEu/s1600/IMG_0239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr17lpK-CinCoS1kNIc_Z_Ag-dY9ABHHdj1rYLvhXQLq9i5AWsivgTbWokuvfPBG5NFCPvk-A_5aN1TulDpCHkYOTCo6_ilx2lkeGgc3AKfDMeSKMglL9t2XmvXtLjrcwS8buusPYh2MEu/s320/IMG_0239.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Andenes Fyr.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Andenes is the flat "ness" or point at the north end of the island of Andøya; 300 miles into the Arctic Circle off the top-left corner of Norway. Neither Google Earth or the maps that bought showed detail of the area around our lighthouse, the <i>Andenes Fyr</i>, because it used to be a Cold War naval base. </span>The water is extremely deep very close to the shore, which is why it was a naval base and why it attracts the male sperm whales that come to fatten up and mature on the locally rich pickings of fish and squid.</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This was my first <i>Earthwatch</i> trip but the rest of the team were seasoned volunteers. In fact, Warren Stortroan, who is a Minnesotan of Norwegian descent, has been on 77 <i>Earthwatch</i> trips and Ann Schwendener, from Chicago, isn't far behind. I learned a lot from them, especially the fact that the only thing they need is to feel useful and busy, just like my own volunteers at Paxton Pits. They all shunned the idea of just being tourists, especially on the days we could not get out to survey the whales. I, on the other hand, was grateful for time to photograph plants and look for birds.</span></div>
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Our hosts were the MAREFA scientists who come from all over Europe to study whales. They are inspirational young people, as are their international colleagues who work on the tourist boats. They all know their stuff and effortlessly move between speaking Spanish, Italian, English, German and Norwegian. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipO14Eacyw_d2FffOgY0jQr9nWDIs3kSabxJyyz62kJ3q1aSlr7h8OfE0YVey-YljkG6hWtfwL9hY-g-r6Ts_qQ6PFiRyZlhI7WNriHxIxywR5EGpKrhkRi_R9XqEndxzJB0X5ANaTuzgi/s1600/DSC_0180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipO14Eacyw_d2FffOgY0jQr9nWDIs3kSabxJyyz62kJ3q1aSlr7h8OfE0YVey-YljkG6hWtfwL9hY-g-r6Ts_qQ6PFiRyZlhI7WNriHxIxywR5EGpKrhkRi_R9XqEndxzJB0X5ANaTuzgi/s320/DSC_0180.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old whale-ship.<br />No harpoon now, just cameras.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Our job was to assist the scientists by recording whale sightings from two whale-safari boats, the car-ferry and the lighthouse, using a GPS and a Dictaphone. We also took photos to identify the whales we found.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span>Whale-days might involve 12 hours of swaying and bucking (not to mention chucking) about in boats, over 20 miles from shore. Your eyes get tired first, then your hips and back from the constant motion. Finally your arms and shoulders ache from holding on to things all day. I found the lighthouse to be even more tiring due to its steep ladders and the high winds on top. We collapsed into bed around midnight each day and the fact that it was often brighter at 1 a.m. than 1 p.m. didn't bother me at all: I could sleep for England.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBXCXZKHGj3iF-v7unUaKmej-J-eOaEw1cLv4yy9XHWSLZ3bkL32nNaY9rLZnvJnFj1RsXsCxdsqXtvfS3Sg78CkjccxJJ9zQ_t698hBypcf708rYz_kvh54G326EshPK8b-HnoXJSD7f/s1600/DSC_0273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNBXCXZKHGj3iF-v7unUaKmej-J-eOaEw1cLv4yy9XHWSLZ3bkL32nNaY9rLZnvJnFj1RsXsCxdsqXtvfS3Sg78CkjccxJJ9zQ_t698hBypcf708rYz_kvh54G326EshPK8b-HnoXJSD7f/s320/DSC_0273.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sperm whale.<br />Note the bite from a killer whale.</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My first sperm whale was a brown, blotchy character called Miø. We found him over 30 km from shore over a deep gully in the ocean floor. He waved us goodbye with his tail at around 10.30 pm and stayed down for one hour and ten minutes, coming up in almost the same spot to charge his blood with oxygen before expelling all the air from his body and diving again. He might have gone down 2 km under our boat. The pace of whale watching is other-worldly; it was after 1 a.m. when we reached port that day.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Our home at the foot of the lighthouse was an ideal spot from which to explore the Arctic flora and fauna and you might think that, with 24 hours of daylight a day, we would have plenty of time for walking. On whale-days we were kept very busy and on other days the weather was almost too foul to stagger outside without being roped together. All the same, my plant and bird lists grew each day and I had some surprises.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I knew most of the plants from Scotland, where they are considered to be alpines, but at the crest of the beach I met a most peculiar and spectacular assortment of flowers, all existing near the northern edge of their range. It was the same with the land-birds. Old friends like house sparrows and magpies co-existed with bluethroats, redwings, twites and fieldfares.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4stqOnlIs8tiSPcPycEbxlCEw8MvFvvFMPYrWWFHixzW7om8EpHHDN3HUGXZ8NbP8knDLUp9-lb4b1WcWEmSARDLOyHZTyFb5BEu5Bn2ky9rh61aR_nVmmT1mRwL8EiEzSMfXk5Pv6pyv/s1600/DSC_0072+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4stqOnlIs8tiSPcPycEbxlCEw8MvFvvFMPYrWWFHixzW7om8EpHHDN3HUGXZ8NbP8knDLUp9-lb4b1WcWEmSARDLOyHZTyFb5BEu5Bn2ky9rh61aR_nVmmT1mRwL8EiEzSMfXk5Pv6pyv/s320/DSC_0072+(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arctic Tern</td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">One evening I gave a talk for the whale-guides and volunteers about the seabirds to be seen from the boats. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">For all of us, the seabirds, especially the puffins, gave our whale-safaris added value, but it was the whales that we wanted to see. Sperm whales are particularly fascinating because of their complex social life and the fact that they navigate in the dark using echo-location. By our last day we had all seen a dead one and most of us had seen at least one live whale. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">On our last morning-shift we found two new sperm whales to add to the catalogue and then we went out again in the afternoon to find more. Instead we spotted a humpback whale that stayed on the surface for only minutes at a time, and a pod of four killer whales that we followed for over an hour. By the end of the afternoon we were surrounded by over 20 killer whales that came very close to the boat. I will never forget that afternoon.</span></div>
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I would like to thank my <a href="http://www.earthwatch.org/" target="_blank">Earthwatch </a>colleges for being such brilliant company and the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MarefaTheMarineResearchAndEducationFundOfAndenes" target="_blank">MAREFA </a>project staff for being such attentive hosts.</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>You can read more about my week in Norway at </i><a href="http://www.whale-spot.blogspot.com/"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>www.whale-spot.blogspot.com</i></span></a><i> </i></span></div>
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Jim Stevenson, Paxton Pits Nature Reserve, England.</i></span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-81387572904538546232013-07-20T09:02:00.001-07:002013-07-20T09:02:12.492-07:00And there were whales.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Lhytrawbu98R0WkccFsETADx1LmQx53gUxDUj-qFnXUSIaB4CnFssOwjv57IU89or5JXzUhroydrYfdnMn1jU0oZZrjg7QUBKC12ACYtHnfMJU3dT9Hm0V3kl2kXht9QPltruxe8HBH3/s1600/DSC_0274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Lhytrawbu98R0WkccFsETADx1LmQx53gUxDUj-qFnXUSIaB4CnFssOwjv57IU89or5JXzUhroydrYfdnMn1jU0oZZrjg7QUBKC12ACYtHnfMJU3dT9Hm0V3kl2kXht9QPltruxe8HBH3/s320/DSC_0274.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flukes up.</td></tr>
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No picture of a sperm whale can convey the living creature, but we certainly had fun trying. Most of the photos we took were for identification purposes so we needed to have as much of the surfaced whale in view as possible. We especially wanted the dorsal fin from both sides and the tail-flukes from top and bottom. In a normal dive a feeding sperm whale is a very obliging creature, but if you spook him he will slip quietly away in a shallow dive, without showing you his flukes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOr18FuI-c3-Ds-6lPWKjzS798qQV2jcvj5tKAyhJ7x998Y5z38-g2cZYGxY1hXZXT_A_JacDzg6t1ha4Pfs9fbfSmFHwTgorRhUw-U2o0AUas_SUtWXbb895sjsRq41Qluop9zevW3eYR/s1600/DSC_0611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOr18FuI-c3-Ds-6lPWKjzS798qQV2jcvj5tKAyhJ7x998Y5z38-g2cZYGxY1hXZXT_A_JacDzg6t1ha4Pfs9fbfSmFHwTgorRhUw-U2o0AUas_SUtWXbb895sjsRq41Qluop9zevW3eYR/s320/DSC_0611.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who is looking at who?</td></tr>
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Killer whales are on the surface for most of the time, actively hunting and socialising so there is a lot of movement in the photos. Even so, I never once saw the eyes or mouth of a whale in Norway, though I'm sure that the orcas looked us over from the corners of their eyes as they surfaced in the manner of large porpoises.<br />
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You can see my photos of whales by clicking on "<a href="http://s1289.photobucket.com/user/jim2stevenson/slideshow/Whales%20in%20the%20Norwegian%20Arctic" target="_blank">Pure Flukes</a>".Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-26499888928796769212013-07-20T08:28:00.000-07:002013-07-20T09:54:03.824-07:00Birds in Andenes<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEnAc7dGFM8dRIcJMhw-tX8lm8g_GZNJ7Og_ncUrrT7aUso0p5nMz2TKqEJ9_MvqvsKc8EMh-IB_pHpe0baMKZag33S2wuihUOwd-kRP0siOdX09bP4q8xa6rKJ0dLiuzZye2plXHOAyF/s1600/DSC_0622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEnAc7dGFM8dRIcJMhw-tX8lm8g_GZNJ7Og_ncUrrT7aUso0p5nMz2TKqEJ9_MvqvsKc8EMh-IB_pHpe0baMKZag33S2wuihUOwd-kRP0siOdX09bP4q8xa6rKJ0dLiuzZye2plXHOAyF/s400/DSC_0622.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fulmar</td></tr>
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Bird photography is a specialist business, calling for big lenses and endless patience. I'm just an opportunist so my pictures look very amateur, despite getting pretty close to some remarkable birds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW2v9obHj7rEn2QTi00LQvZO2V6wLYhsPyR5SReiGKes-r2mqac5HmHXblU_Gop6FW36nD0_nEzvwcUWaWkrQm-mDpdFqS86Rl6w6vjXISz2caHndM7St4GuwTXaL259AL-vd3CSs7K3aT/s1600/DSC_0053+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW2v9obHj7rEn2QTi00LQvZO2V6wLYhsPyR5SReiGKes-r2mqac5HmHXblU_Gop6FW36nD0_nEzvwcUWaWkrQm-mDpdFqS86Rl6w6vjXISz2caHndM7St4GuwTXaL259AL-vd3CSs7K3aT/s320/DSC_0053+(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
My technique (if you can call it that) is to put my 300 mm lens onto my Nikon and set the camera to sports mode. Then I take as many pictures as I can in the hope that just one of them will be sharp. In good light with a sitting duck you can get good results, but a flying bird, from a boat, in the middle of an Arctic gale, with rain and sea spray all over the place is a bit of a challenge.<br />
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You can view some of my photos at "<a href="http://s1289.photobucket.com/user/jim2stevenson/slideshow/Birds%20in%20Andenes" target="_blank">Andenes Birds</a>".<br />
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I think my Arctic Tern is probably my best shot. He was trying to kill me at the time, as I walked near his nest on the quayside. We saw hundreds of these archetypal migratory birds every day. Soon they will be on their way to the South Atlantic or even the South Pacific. They must experience more daylight in a year than any other animal on this planet, including ourselves.<br />
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Terns and puffins carry food to their young and you can actually see the sand-eels in their mouths as they fly. This makes them attractive to klepto-parasites such as Arctic skuas. I also saw a great skua from the ferry once, but the scarcest and most elegant of these piratical birds is the long-tailed skua. They look like terns when they fly, which must enable them to get pretty close to their prey without being spotted.<br />
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Apart from fulmars, we only saw one petrel; a tiny Leach's petrel which was following the whales.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUO0dSsy_vDiEBuM7xQs7V1Pl_q2qdldhyphenhyphenMrBuuB1t0YfHKXvNhH9f_3aR-kXYJZ3FZpb6jmRCuIaYz83n27eUvVXbj6aeSzcYpxjDOxebM7hZj3eybNDLK8_GkQIAMt1a_Yqm2zF4i7sW/s1600/DSC_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUO0dSsy_vDiEBuM7xQs7V1Pl_q2qdldhyphenhyphenMrBuuB1t0YfHKXvNhH9f_3aR-kXYJZ3FZpb6jmRCuIaYz83n27eUvVXbj6aeSzcYpxjDOxebM7hZj3eybNDLK8_GkQIAMt1a_Yqm2zF4i7sW/s320/DSC_0020.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arctic skua.</td></tr>
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Divers or loons nest on the freshwater tarns inland and fly to the coast to feed. I saw red throated and black throated divers in flight, but never on the water. However, the local sea-duck population could be watched inside the harbour. Eiders were the most common ducks but we also saw common and velvet scoters, mergansers and goosanders. Whooper swans nested in the lakes near the airport.<br />
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The list of land-birds is short but quite special, with sparrows, redwings and fieldfares to be found around the houses and nearby woods. Wheatears and twites were everywhere along the beach crest and any open ground while blue-throats and ring-ouzels were seen higher up. I was surprised to find a colony of sand-martins in a stockpile of sand at a builder's yard.<br />
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I think Andenes would make an excellent bird observatory in September and October when birds stream down the coast from the high Arctic. A ringing station for passerines at the base of the lighthouse could be manned every morning while visible migration could be monitored from the lighthouse or the ferry. I suspect that geese and swans pass through in good numbers. Waders could be monitored daily by simply walking the beach.<br />
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There is an observatory down at Lista, near Stavanger that pulls in spectacular numbers of birds in Autumn, including a lot of Finnish birds on their way to the UK. Andenes could turn up some real surprises as it is so much further north.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FtwW8SRpwJQe5-8_rd5l4yRs2FBaNy2DBehqkDSt2kyXQ_al4R0un3s8_SaqRT1qFu_2oOQENtZl3EbtU-I1jT2paFDWc3PG-mkV9Q4oXSOBMP1X1qjexoy2gK9_4SeHUAfwjvD0TwEf/s1600/DSC_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="75" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6FtwW8SRpwJQe5-8_rd5l4yRs2FBaNy2DBehqkDSt2kyXQ_al4R0un3s8_SaqRT1qFu_2oOQENtZl3EbtU-I1jT2paFDWc3PG-mkV9Q4oXSOBMP1X1qjexoy2gK9_4SeHUAfwjvD0TwEf/s400/DSC_0015.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Puffins</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-89820213834221094252013-07-20T06:41:00.002-07:002013-07-31T05:22:26.949-07:00Flowers of Andøya<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_k0Z64-5Nz7uDcb1VXCzjbMr-aYpr2h0jtrT2pMCEWYqQHILptAifD4hIREqkfwnEMMuGyDd9i1DnxlUJnOB_1qXTBrmyqdnqw6jk7gRhowZ-VkvtDGZbp5LbKOF0TyWvKhaMGBJ4IU7/s1600/DSC_0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_k0Z64-5Nz7uDcb1VXCzjbMr-aYpr2h0jtrT2pMCEWYqQHILptAifD4hIREqkfwnEMMuGyDd9i1DnxlUJnOB_1qXTBrmyqdnqw6jk7gRhowZ-VkvtDGZbp5LbKOF0TyWvKhaMGBJ4IU7/s320/DSC_0144.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giant hogweed</td></tr>
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In the short time I was there I tried to get to grips with the wildflowers that grew near the Andenes lighthouse and beyond.<br />
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The first thing that struck me was the wealth of species to be found there, some of which were old friends from Scotland, the English seaside, lowland grassland and the tops of the Pennines. Many would turn out to be alpines or Arctic versions of the plants I knew. Some were entirely new to me.<br />
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It was my quest for arctic birds that first led me to the Botanical Gardens in Tromsø where I fell in love with the semi-wild woodland area that constitutes the geology trail. Beneath the canopy of the dwarf forest where redwings sang, I found dwarf cornel, geraniums, cow wheat and pig-nut. In an opening further up I found a perfect miniature bog with cotton grass, sundew, cloudberry and heather.<br />
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Around the houses in Tromsø and in Andenes I was astonished to see masses of giant hogweed. It is an invasive alien that can give you a nasty rash, but the locals are rather proud of it in Tromsø. It was everywhere.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7xBzilLkLsyf5G6PUDXkK9WiadQj5n8Kf7eGI47IG_vSafdIoPRkuhioWmG7yZwx8Myvf06PUpW8ySv3YJUQuwWHKP6mJD3Fbs8DY74ce1FI5Gt5uWwoovx_vR1xcYevc2d9_c1hAOHc/s1600/DSC_0082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP7xBzilLkLsyf5G6PUDXkK9WiadQj5n8Kf7eGI47IG_vSafdIoPRkuhioWmG7yZwx8Myvf06PUpW8ySv3YJUQuwWHKP6mJD3Fbs8DY74ce1FI5Gt5uWwoovx_vR1xcYevc2d9_c1hAOHc/s320/DSC_0082.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Fire-weed" in Tromsø</td></tr>
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The long daylight hours between May and August and the warming influence of the Atlantic make for a vigorous growing season. The sheer number of flowering plants is staggering and I could see the seed-heads of many more such as primulas, gentians and saxifrages that had already bloomed. Even so, in July there was a whole array of later bloomers such as asters to be found still in bud.<br />
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If you are an amateur botanist interested in the arctic flora but not wanting to be a full blown Amundsen, I'd say that you could do no better than go to the Norwegian islands in the Arctic Circle. Tromsø would be my starting point and I would also like to try the Lofoton Islands.<br />
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If you have never seen this kind of flora before, the nearest thing we have in the UK is the machair of the Outer Hebrides, particularly on the Uists, Coll and Tyree.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkydyPRS91v7cK2lrDX-6f8yk1DEnVFp6ZQFp5SetrHbjnjW-Y1Zq9Uvba9z4bunZMGGFvHcKb8Hsagvn2yOm54jRuZG4g5K6A8xriXYepvUyUbKOoXTWFf-ZEZ_17Y1aZQUnzx4pqA21S/s1600/DSC_0135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkydyPRS91v7cK2lrDX-6f8yk1DEnVFp6ZQFp5SetrHbjnjW-Y1Zq9Uvba9z4bunZMGGFvHcKb8Hsagvn2yOm54jRuZG4g5K6A8xriXYepvUyUbKOoXTWFf-ZEZ_17Y1aZQUnzx4pqA21S/s320/DSC_0135.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dwarf cornel.</td></tr>
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You can see my slideshow at "<a href="http://s1289.photobucket.com/user/jim2stevenson/slideshow/Flowers%20of%20Andenes" target="_blank">Andenes Flora</a>"<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-37304993554263292182013-07-20T04:25:00.000-07:002013-07-20T04:25:00.528-07:00Monochrome<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yWR0b6S84sGB7ylGuTrHEuy-0X_bBaciPRMXeilbi_Ga_pE6z919GVXkP_GJ0b_2Zb7BTKuNKLCp1GfvPa5eSbZkBssuB-lO3-K5eN40Dx4vAqaHQeAPMS1aSH1w6gHQ8XRFfCIB7QVw/s1600/DSC_0028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yWR0b6S84sGB7ylGuTrHEuy-0X_bBaciPRMXeilbi_Ga_pE6z919GVXkP_GJ0b_2Zb7BTKuNKLCp1GfvPa5eSbZkBssuB-lO3-K5eN40Dx4vAqaHQeAPMS1aSH1w6gHQ8XRFfCIB7QVw/s320/DSC_0028.JPG" width="320" /></a>I take quite a few black-and-white pictures because I think they stand out from the crowd. Mostly I use monochrome for indoor shots when there is not enough light for colour and I don't want to use a flash. Sometimes I simply make a mistake and forget to reset my camera to colour.<br />
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Of course you can make any colour photo into a monochrome, using a computer or the onboard menu on your camera, but these were taken as black and whites; there's no turning back.<br />
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Enjoy the slideshow, "<a href="http://s1289.photobucket.com/user/jim2stevenson/slideshow/Black%20and%20Whites" target="_blank">Monochrome</a>".Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-84857603664074507142013-07-20T03:10:00.001-07:002013-07-20T03:10:55.733-07:00People pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvXdyWUgP0NfYQboYcy6i1JzWV956QRUIKnwTgZB19F59y-pQTNVSVZh8wRGFy5Q_b3ARIPjkKOKhkKonujkSg2CEUC5eAgGIylHXuMWvLkpb71lRfZH6X6GuFAIpQEpmqVefoUlkESFV/s1600/DSC_0178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvXdyWUgP0NfYQboYcy6i1JzWV956QRUIKnwTgZB19F59y-pQTNVSVZh8wRGFy5Q_b3ARIPjkKOKhkKonujkSg2CEUC5eAgGIylHXuMWvLkpb71lRfZH6X6GuFAIpQEpmqVefoUlkESFV/s320/DSC_0178.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0F3LGhrzounzd7iUW-QtkGUOfiKSV6Xwij7knttB9ZJ68T14hu9qo4_ioKjKkwBvzzhSyT5upqccL1_pIzNf7etrlAghOnxQaPYh6knI3Qvj9AU_UtFBy_SxjJThy3xOjd6vFFJ5t8kV0/s1600/IMG_0273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0F3LGhrzounzd7iUW-QtkGUOfiKSV6Xwij7knttB9ZJ68T14hu9qo4_ioKjKkwBvzzhSyT5upqccL1_pIzNf7etrlAghOnxQaPYh6knI3Qvj9AU_UtFBy_SxjJThy3xOjd6vFFJ5t8kV0/s320/IMG_0273.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I never take enough people-pictures. If you have any more shots of the team, please send them in to me.<br />
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All the same, I have made a slide show of the pictures that I have. Why are there so many pictures of Richard?<br />
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You can view the show at <a href="http://s1289.photobucket.com/user/jim2stevenson/slideshow/Earthwatch%20People" target="_blank">Photobucket</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-64444009415419497112013-07-18T07:37:00.003-07:002013-07-20T01:03:26.357-07:00Landscapes<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9-TSvQd5WbRlH7RmtO6v39SJ1LTQhcn4xi5S5ZlAX3Ow4FpHemXbBT5tHFcHiK9v2KOUVTyJzRAPXfEAkZDGyHfqERXTX_ilPz-qYOub54PO9w_fiEaZH_Gea_JFuyoQjjfLCNMY_Bkb/s1600/IMG_0239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9-TSvQd5WbRlH7RmtO6v39SJ1LTQhcn4xi5S5ZlAX3Ow4FpHemXbBT5tHFcHiK9v2KOUVTyJzRAPXfEAkZDGyHfqERXTX_ilPz-qYOub54PO9w_fiEaZH_Gea_JFuyoQjjfLCNMY_Bkb/s320/IMG_0239.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andenes Fyr, taken by Laura from a boat.</td></tr>
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The scenery at Andenes was always spectacular and the view changed with the weather. I have posted an album of scenes at Photobucket that you can open by clicking the link <b><a href="http://s1289.photobucket.com/user/jim2stevenson/slideshow/Andenes%20Scenes" target="_blank">Scenery</a></b><br />
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This album contains pictures of boats and buildings as well as scenery, but whales, flowers, people and birds will all get separate albums. Most of the photos are mine, but some of the best ones are from Laura. I will add more photos to these albums as I edit my files.<br />
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The default view is as a slideshow, but you can get to the album from there and download pictures to keep.<br />
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If you have trouble opening or viewing the album, or want to add some of your own photos to mine, or want to correct or comment on anything I have posted, please email me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-29968263366193251122013-07-13T02:16:00.001-07:002013-07-19T14:36:26.667-07:00Home trip<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHBz32NDCSGW1tvkLY_i0TpKLiJXPp_-LrHBoh2dYjKV6_5ub7QgTXl7q4SlcS8nBjl5JhrWFDWWbkeERykHTK87pYOg6kWrf8YucB5SRrZap9-hANbyk5Vt1b6FZDA8D5pZSBukDUEmm/s1600/DSC_0001+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHBz32NDCSGW1tvkLY_i0TpKLiJXPp_-LrHBoh2dYjKV6_5ub7QgTXl7q4SlcS8nBjl5JhrWFDWWbkeERykHTK87pYOg6kWrf8YucB5SRrZap9-hANbyk5Vt1b6FZDA8D5pZSBukDUEmm/s320/DSC_0001+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beach-combings.</td></tr>
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After all our bags were packed, I took one last look around the kitchen. On our arrival it had been a spartan place with empty cupboards and no personal nick-nacks. By the end of the week we had cluttered up the fridge with salami and treats and we had personalised the window-sill with flotsam and jetsam from the storms of the week.<br />
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After a final group photo, we were driven by Iva to the local airport. The whole team of six Earthwatch volunteers caught the same flight out of Andenes to Tromsø, so we all got to experience one more adventure together.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjKDqnW3yQAIjUZP0os3A46UKtI6_-jhiEm3dUripjvi5HyrqTuVa_rozuj3LOEYlEedlKm3UrqaAXIS3teDf8ysrOPDpMrT2M-14Wko6bLEIUl-AX5Q5EiUyCz-rtCFFxEEONuxzPxPw/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjKDqnW3yQAIjUZP0os3A46UKtI6_-jhiEm3dUripjvi5HyrqTuVa_rozuj3LOEYlEedlKm3UrqaAXIS3teDf8ysrOPDpMrT2M-14Wko6bLEIUl-AX5Q5EiUyCz-rtCFFxEEONuxzPxPw/s320/DSC_0011.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group Photo.</td></tr>
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The airport terminal is tiny and the formalities are over in minutes. The field is shared with the military, so you cannot take photos, but the advantage is that there is an excellent, very long runway. The plane is swiftly loaded and you taxi out to the strip: so far, so good.<br />
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The plane was light as there was only ten or so passengers. We were on full power with our two propellers clawing hungrily at the moist air and I could feel the nose lifting after only a few hundred yards, then the nose bit down hard and the brakes screamed and bumped as we came to an emergency stop.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLSOb3qKiLLPM2vvnZVNC5bDBhq53z7QLRHfaSunNQXvPaWSWAiBI7-SeIzUUVbCmmmZWdXfjAALQMc0ZymQwNqNYYVqCmKbyROBxhyn6VPEVreGAo1RSLqqV3peF1Y4gBVUSsUgPno6Qm/s1600/DSC_0013+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLSOb3qKiLLPM2vvnZVNC5bDBhq53z7QLRHfaSunNQXvPaWSWAiBI7-SeIzUUVbCmmmZWdXfjAALQMc0ZymQwNqNYYVqCmKbyROBxhyn6VPEVreGAo1RSLqqV3peF1Y4gBVUSsUgPno6Qm/s320/DSC_0013+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safe arrival in Tromsø.</td></tr>
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No one was at all alarmed as it was obvious that there was nothing wrong with the plane. We guessed that a hazard had appeared on the runway and I hoped is was my elusive reindeer, but it was birds. A large flock of gulls and waders had chosen that moment to fly across the peninsular. The swift action of the pilot had saved the life of at least one gull, and possibly all of us. My pals shook their fists at me as I was the bird-man on the trip.<br />
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"Your birds are a total nuisance, Jim."<br />
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I lost touch with the others as soon as we arrived in Tromsø. Richard and Eleanor stayed in transit for a flight to Heathrow, Ann was bound for Berlin while Warren and Laura were heading into town to explore before their night-flight. I was stuck alone in the arrivals lounge waiting to check in for a direct flight to Gatwick. Still, with free Wi-Fi, I had time to send you this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeK9H5y9ihVuGumQZdCOfRWSGyc77Il85HhdxOw-uEWbdVgmW5mwZn8850G7YEZid2G_HB5BblgHqQUNIIiHULksewJ36SGUhbE4YLnAmFKwBT31MPtXlXLqBnL3r-uqauPrR2nNXnE2U/s1600/Philip+Hoare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYeK9H5y9ihVuGumQZdCOfRWSGyc77Il85HhdxOw-uEWbdVgmW5mwZn8850G7YEZid2G_HB5BblgHqQUNIIiHULksewJ36SGUhbE4YLnAmFKwBT31MPtXlXLqBnL3r-uqauPrR2nNXnE2U/s320/Philip+Hoare.jpg" width="207" /></a></div>
My flight home to Gatwick was direct without a stop in Oslo. True to form we took off into the Great Norwegian Cloud and that was the last I saw of Norway for a whole hour. I took a short nap and then started on a new chapter of the book I had carried with me all week, unopened.<br />
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If you have ever pursued whales and wanted to get to grips with them from both an artistic and a scientific view (the living whale and what it means) the book for you is "<i><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Leviathan-Philip-Hoare/dp/0007230141" target="_blank">Leviathan</a></i>" by Philip Hoare. Beware though: the alternative title is "The Whale" and it has a different cover, but it is the same book.<br />
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The set book on "Sperm Whales" for this expedition is by Hal Whitehead. It is a brilliant introduction to the subject by a scientist who can write. "Leviathan" is by a writer who can do science. It is a really good read, like the award winning "Cod" by Mark Kurlansky, taking in every aspect of the whale without ever becoming a dull catalogue of facts. Did you know, for instance, that Starbuck's coffee chain is named after the first mate on the Pequod? Or that Moby (the pop musician, Richard Melville Hall) is a direct descendant of Herman Melville who wrote "Moby Dick"? Or that Captain Hook is based on Capt. Ahab, and the crocodile replaces the whale in "Peter Pan"?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE75QxqGZQcBIxXC0CCRqXlkc4Quyjl7Z2_J0KYqNDJrA4gwOZB7kOqRSLtuTkndNJoRUiSm6ZKZIVyYpRKj919om-vKIcV2fYIVoWJG10oz1r0kyh9RR8chH20B9gCpPJVbGxukPc10jb/s1600/Cod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE75QxqGZQcBIxXC0CCRqXlkc4Quyjl7Z2_J0KYqNDJrA4gwOZB7kOqRSLtuTkndNJoRUiSm6ZKZIVyYpRKj919om-vKIcV2fYIVoWJG10oz1r0kyh9RR8chH20B9gCpPJVbGxukPc10jb/s200/Cod.jpg" width="128" /></a>In truth the shadow of Moby Dick hangs heavily over Philip Hoare, and over all of us who seek the whale. I am tempted to have a second try at reading the original now.<br />
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One of our team, who had never seen any whale before this trip, candidly remarked that her first sighting of a sperm whale wasn't what she expected. None of us knew what to say. On reading "Leviathan", I can see what she meant. Our vision of the whale is based on art and literature from a time when the only view of a whole whale to be had was from strandings or from the descriptions from the whaling men themselves. From our world, suspended in the interface between ocean and atmosphere, with maybe 2 km of water under our keel, all we can see of a sperm whale is the top of it's head and part of it's back. This animal is helpless on the surface because it needs to charge its blood with oxygen for maybe fifteen minutes before exhaling all the air from its body and descending to the invisible depths where we cannot follow, for over an hour. So, although we can claim to have seen a sperm whale, we have only seen a glimpse of part of it. <br />
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The dead whale that we saw had sunk into the beach so that we could only see the top of it's head and it's back, so it looked like it was swimming in sand. It could not tell us anything more than we had seen from the boats.<br />
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One day we will be able to attach a camera to the whale, that works at pressure 2 km under the sea in the darkness and transmits its images back to us. Then we will have a more rounded, 3D image of the sperm whale. For now we may be awed, but at the same time frustrated.<br />
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The paradox of the sperm whale is that it is unknowable, but we ache to know it's secrets. That's the attraction.<br />
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Norway is a bit like a whale: After losing sight of it for an hour I caught a brief, final glimpse of prosperous marinas and fertile valleys around Stavanger or maybe Kristiansand, before heading out across a cloudless North Sea to Essex, the Thames estuary, Kent and East Sussex.<br />
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To my whale-watch pals I have to say that I'm so sorry to have missed the chance for a proper good-bye, but I think we all got along really well and it was a real honour to have met you all.<br />
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Bon Voyage!<br />
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Jim<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-76221806866110586582013-07-12T22:31:00.001-07:002013-07-19T14:43:40.604-07:00Killers<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAuzPKWm1Pj4w_N-JVI-tUlOyq80-NPV22-bJHJWLFxNqcyRGPsPFpThFZMBpBCss6MxdryqNIq4ZAn_lc80BYdTjkNUF2I5AwGiaYXl8wW57ZQJI_89aCFUUH5wCoL6yPE9VVEZ7CSo5/s1600/DSC_0141+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXAuzPKWm1Pj4w_N-JVI-tUlOyq80-NPV22-bJHJWLFxNqcyRGPsPFpThFZMBpBCss6MxdryqNIq4ZAn_lc80BYdTjkNUF2I5AwGiaYXl8wW57ZQJI_89aCFUUH5wCoL6yPE9VVEZ7CSo5/s320/DSC_0141+(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Reine"</td></tr>
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Our last day on Andøya was to be our best, which is the way we would want it, given the choice. It was the only really calm day of the week and the air veritably stank of whales, at least to me it did.<br />
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The plan was to maximise our observation effort using the tower, the ferry, the fast catamaran "Dolphin" and the slow-but-sure ex-whaleboat "Reine". Both the deep sea "Canyon" and the shallower "Fjord" were covered, but the boats had the most success in the canyon.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKeI8QUELXuFNwP_KLR3bc3uGiOP86T-slTipwSKYsxSBCJVT61JWXUQehMmx2UJ38BY92NIm427gtJTAbSTbAvwlb46Qi4ANGV0wrBVfJuxdAt2Ik7ETaZ2lVAEJZ6pqx4MMEowh9Y9G/s1600/IMG_5067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKeI8QUELXuFNwP_KLR3bc3uGiOP86T-slTipwSKYsxSBCJVT61JWXUQehMmx2UJ38BY92NIm427gtJTAbSTbAvwlb46Qi4ANGV0wrBVfJuxdAt2Ik7ETaZ2lVAEJZ6pqx4MMEowh9Y9G/s320/IMG_5067.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Dolphin"</td></tr>
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"Reine" acted as our spotter and stayed out whale-seeking all day while "Dolphin" made two trips with about 80 tourists at a time. I was lucky enough to be on "Dolphin" both times as we came alongside "Reine" to see the whale or whales that she had found. This meant that our whole team got to encounter two new sperm-whales that had not been catalogued before. They were both young males, grey coloured with no obvious markings, but as we saw them "flukes-up" one of them had already had a small bite taken from his tail.<br />
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On our second trip of the day we approached what we thought was to be one of the two whales from the morning, but it was a humpback. It didn't stay on the surface long and moved at some speed in a series of shallow dives. I don't think we got any pictures of it before the skipper spotted a pod of smaller whales that, at long range, he mistakenly took to be pilot whales. (At that point us whale-spotters couldn't see anything at all.) We slowly edged up to them and saw that the unit consisted of a calf protected by two females and a patrolling male arcing around them at a distance of about 500 m. This was the first sighting of killer whales for some weeks, and it got better.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1V2oGeDYyxKxIsOz5ZGMI9j06H3jdFGo9SK7dYuJqQh4RJSPiqbH9P8erlex1iw2YzWwFq4PFjMT7pUSGc10VIrSeLyAHMc5oD3PtpzfGZYYQf9u4lb59BTl5sRuB86L28sUUtgwSGtp/s1600/IMG_5118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn1V2oGeDYyxKxIsOz5ZGMI9j06H3jdFGo9SK7dYuJqQh4RJSPiqbH9P8erlex1iw2YzWwFq4PFjMT7pUSGc10VIrSeLyAHMc5oD3PtpzfGZYYQf9u4lb59BTl5sRuB86L28sUUtgwSGtp/s320/IMG_5118.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Young sperm whale.<br />
Note the bite on the left side.</td></tr>
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The female orcas were not bothered by the boat. and they swam by us for a long time. The male showed some displeasure by beating his tail on the surface and he kept his distance at first, but soon he settled down. We slowly became aware that other orcas were joining our pod until we estimated over 20 individuals were visible at once.<br />
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We enjoyed an hour with the killer whales and found ourselves over 22 Km away from the lighthouse. We then turned for home, hoping to pick up another whale on the way back or in the Fjord but the weather was turning against us with rain showers, poor visibility and a rising wind.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zCpEI18CiU_cqO7R-JbDw2bNKK0u2kygUpJpj3poYApOnXNi-BirpylaLnouLI6PPYG4oNycaXvzGASvq-9a3HYsQsv6QoPeFA_V_WeRLbMENagZTErCMD1mPMfnD637GSGXOoj-_NNI/s1600/DSC_0479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zCpEI18CiU_cqO7R-JbDw2bNKK0u2kygUpJpj3poYApOnXNi-BirpylaLnouLI6PPYG4oNycaXvzGASvq-9a3HYsQsv6QoPeFA_V_WeRLbMENagZTErCMD1mPMfnD637GSGXOoj-_NNI/s320/DSC_0479.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Male killer whale.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3VMZS-Clz9EsBA6zMJlMSDJUz5gL-tJkmQQLnfJRvnm9OXl8kVQlKHrnhMJEB9LGXvjYkjhLKM2r-kGuX5sRETaOdJp9TqbeQb5GhcS1BPnJwydZnwtxLg5R-6sFYzLoBpJHNj-1OOc_/s1600/DSC_0514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3VMZS-Clz9EsBA6zMJlMSDJUz5gL-tJkmQQLnfJRvnm9OXl8kVQlKHrnhMJEB9LGXvjYkjhLKM2r-kGuX5sRETaOdJp9TqbeQb5GhcS1BPnJwydZnwtxLg5R-6sFYzLoBpJHNj-1OOc_/s320/DSC_0514.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another male.</td></tr>
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To be honest, even with the reward of a lifetime experience like this, five or six hours of constant vigilance is enough for me. We are supposed to take 20 minute watches but I can't switch off when I am relieved in case I miss something. I had every confidence that the crew or my colleagues would spot any whales that came a long, but the birds were another matter.<br />
<br />
I think I made two interesting discoveries that day:<br />
<br />
I had previously noticed that fulmars and gulls tracked the "Reine" and that when she stopped to listen for whales on the hydrophones more birds would move in to form a flotilla on the water. They obviously associated the ship with food, especially when it stopped moving. "Reine" is a traditional whaling boat and looks like a fishing vessel, so I assume that the birds think we have stopped to haul nets. My new observation was that they don't do this with Dolphin because she is too fast and does not behave or look anything like a fishing boat. Birds did not show much interest in the car-ferry either.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAh-sT_BPLu92wftgbPWi_VRZD1-BgHEC2sU9sLuo0sc2X2MUUAeBpCVPQSoQRfEohsMQfvKbHTv-63YgLNQz5Qni1iINZqRBPeBdO6FNiTnIVMapjGB5_dqIGtK1AURn_WCh_2JNSZ4aC/s1600/DSC_0535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAh-sT_BPLu92wftgbPWi_VRZD1-BgHEC2sU9sLuo0sc2X2MUUAeBpCVPQSoQRfEohsMQfvKbHTv-63YgLNQz5Qni1iINZqRBPeBdO6FNiTnIVMapjGB5_dqIGtK1AURn_WCh_2JNSZ4aC/s320/DSC_0535.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Females with a calf.</td></tr>
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When we saw a sperm whale on the surface, it did not seem to have any birds associated with it, but the killer whales certainly did. I assume that hanging about for an hour waiting for a sperm whale to surface is not very productive for the birds, especially since the whale does not feed anywhere near the surface and any food scraps that emerge from the rear end of the whale tend to be indigestible keratinous beaks from squids that sink quickly.<br />
<br />
"Killers" feed actively on the surface and produce quite a lot of tit-bits for the birds. This shows that long-lived seabirds like fulmars are very observant and can differentiate between different types of boats and of whales.<br />
<br />
Around the killer whale-pods we saw a lot of fulmars, puffins and gulls and these birds were pestered by quite a lot of Arctic skuas. We did not see any shearwaters but Eleanor asked me about the tiny, swallow like bird that was flitting around below us which we identified as a Leach's petrel, which is a very small member of the shearwater tribe.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-47311281976665272822013-07-12T08:10:00.000-07:002013-07-31T05:41:57.384-07:00Seven Sisters<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjbtc5oMouQ_Dyy7BEeBf_NMSQeTuBGq4vxOg5QienilIia5Nm3xxRjRPHCedzN9AG9Y90WkN9fqHwlXy1VPc6ooK9gOsEKSjQkXUILA6Gd-enBg73oq53uGvXVJNFvIU9cKxHQV4YSKU/s1600/DSC_0132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivjbtc5oMouQ_Dyy7BEeBf_NMSQeTuBGq4vxOg5QienilIia5Nm3xxRjRPHCedzN9AG9Y90WkN9fqHwlXy1VPc6ooK9gOsEKSjQkXUILA6Gd-enBg73oq53uGvXVJNFvIU9cKxHQV4YSKU/s320/DSC_0132.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ann above Bleik and Puffin Island </td></tr>
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It was to be our last day in Ardenes. At 2 am on Friday morning the sun was a golden orb above the light-house. For the first time in a week the harbour was like a mirror, reflecting the sun, the buildings and the harbour wall. It looked like a whale-day was coming our way.<br />
<br />
I was out early to use the sunlight, mainly looking at the zonation of flowers along the beach. The salt-zone is very narrow with mainly pink purslane growing there, but only a meter away there are sand dune and alpine species growing in profusion. I found orchids, cloudberry, alpine bistort and mountain avens, for example.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwQwH2nRhJFtTfA2-uDxb5CkrS5N8dWqdu6AoEuJuweaClVK1nOqwVfbk_OR-ls3LBVui2F8FKTyleO1MtBxytZDzfH_k4BlC7UNAEE5HlMUSEO-ABl1RNRhqhltXNcwQkTJrgv57m_fB/s1600/DSC_0105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwQwH2nRhJFtTfA2-uDxb5CkrS5N8dWqdu6AoEuJuweaClVK1nOqwVfbk_OR-ls3LBVui2F8FKTyleO1MtBxytZDzfH_k4BlC7UNAEE5HlMUSEO-ABl1RNRhqhltXNcwQkTJrgv57m_fB/s320/DSC_0105.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm still trying to name this,<br />
but I think it is Alpine sow-thistle. </td></tr>
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By breakfast it was becoming a bit more cloudy, but still, it was warm and calm. We were all booked to go on whale-boats in the late morning, but Ann and I had time to walk up to the Met. Station on the mountain for an hour while some of the others went up the lighthouse or on the ferry.<br />
<br />
The mountain summit gave us panoramic views over Andenes and over Bleik but it was the dwarf forest at the bottom of the hill that intrigued me most. We even heard birdsong there as a redwing gently murmured from a birch tree. Two young redstarts hopped ahead of us and willow warblers flitted silently (and appropriately) through the willows.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwzBcGKQSwhQKj2Hr6woPkjY4rGGl4dLqmV4j9kzCdTtcsdMHhT2zRI8hfvhubqdtmsfY50-SlXtWhqWQjEG2SCpqW1TBrRqEmv508d64DIq-JUH6IG2y8MitmVVIG8bR8hUlegBs7DP-/s1600/DSC_0113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwzBcGKQSwhQKj2Hr6woPkjY4rGGl4dLqmV4j9kzCdTtcsdMHhT2zRI8hfvhubqdtmsfY50-SlXtWhqWQjEG2SCpqW1TBrRqEmv508d64DIq-JUH6IG2y8MitmVVIG8bR8hUlegBs7DP-/s320/DSC_0113.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spotted orchid</td></tr>
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<i>(On Saturday's flight home, I started to nod off and replayed the final day in my head. The baby redstarts were not quite right: the tail was red but only near the rump. They looked more like baby robins than anything else, but there was that tail. What else has a red tail and looks like a robin? Bluethroat of course. I had seen two bluethroats without realising it!! These are fantastic birds that every birder wants to see and every artist wants to paint. I didn't even take a photo.)</i><br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-ovit8RMIO9THM1REveCMJLMOvd-VcdtsK4fR7VkN366aSM00QUKTDGDDJL-nrpVH7BOOuZAml1zQbT2W558083d829iCknfin-foky8tg2c56b70YKPAAA4lRSByWQGJY__kv_gNEYt/s1600/DSC_0125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-ovit8RMIO9THM1REveCMJLMOvd-VcdtsK4fR7VkN366aSM00QUKTDGDDJL-nrpVH7BOOuZAml1zQbT2W558083d829iCknfin-foky8tg2c56b70YKPAAA4lRSByWQGJY__kv_gNEYt/s320/DSC_0125.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alpine lady's mantle and dwarf cornel.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My favourite zone is where the trees run into the moor; the top of the tree line. I think that's because I always associate it with my childhood in the Yorkshire Dales. This is where you find wheatears and ring ouzels. We saw both on the mountain and I assume this would be the place to find woodcocks and hazel-hens. What I most dearly wanted to see was reindeer of a moose. They would be hidden in the trees, but I might just glimpse one on the top edge where the trees were tiny and the grazing was good.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The woods were full of alpine plants and so was the hillside. I could have stayed all day, but this was to be a whale-day. In fact, it was to be the whale-day to end all whale-days.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-18017216852439302622013-07-12T07:28:00.000-07:002013-07-19T14:55:21.663-07:00Puffins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzUArpGxyf3tSY5QcAOpVvslmTJwn8NWdEWWKbZff6kJuOZPKCofWcZo471gSVta8ffNyuz6ANAcwqJhtCyObKIoYhUFGAd-7DF3QBGlSO-pfuxPhDCelYwq8paYPoMkvRxyRRRBYeF01/s1600/DSC_0312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzUArpGxyf3tSY5QcAOpVvslmTJwn8NWdEWWKbZff6kJuOZPKCofWcZo471gSVta8ffNyuz6ANAcwqJhtCyObKIoYhUFGAd-7DF3QBGlSO-pfuxPhDCelYwq8paYPoMkvRxyRRRBYeF01/s200/DSC_0312.jpg" width="200" /></a>The rough weather continued on Thursday and even the ferries were cancelled. Ironically the big car ferry could go anywhere in the roughest of seas but high cross-winds made precise manoeuvring impossible in the harbours. We had witnessed a some tense moments in the wheel-house after several attempts to line up the ramp for the cars to exit. It is a highly skilled job and the penalties are high for a mistake.<br />
<br />
So, for a treat we all made a visit to Puffin Island which lies in a relatively sheltered cove beyond the Seven Sisters, off the village of Bleik. From the shore the island looks like a huge, conical whale-tooth rising almost perpendicularly from the sea. My guess is that it is the stump of a volcanic plug.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiml36lwwV_D8vqQnrjsx2jQn2nCH4NizKKsmIuvVBNtess7UQNGTktDp9uqKXZhNier_ntkx3K-llE96sukfkc-Xwc0iZVe5qOtDo4LITEyf4_aKpZwyQDAshP23-tVclSERTo1x-736D/s1600/DSC_0049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiml36lwwV_D8vqQnrjsx2jQn2nCH4NizKKsmIuvVBNtess7UQNGTktDp9uqKXZhNier_ntkx3K-llE96sukfkc-Xwc0iZVe5qOtDo4LITEyf4_aKpZwyQDAshP23-tVclSERTo1x-736D/s200/DSC_0049.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The<i> Laura</i></td></tr>
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Our boat was a beautiful, traditional tub of a vessel called "Laura". It bounced and swayed it's way out of the harbour and inched along the edge of the mole (harbour-arm) in a well marked channel between treacherous rocks . Some passengers were moved to the stern to prevent the bow from nose-diving into the swell. If that happened a lot of expensive cameras would have been drenched with salt water.<br />
<br />
We had been seeing bee-like swarms (rather than flocks) of puffins off the lighthouse every day. They often flew surprisingly high in the air and we even found them over 30 km out among the whales. All of them originated from this one Puffin Island, <i>Bleiksøya</i>. Even so, the sheer number of birds sitting in the water and milling round the island was a revelation. So many birds!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQgGWbsr6NhzUik56aiMVjf_xklZObHy33-ndQI_xcYeLbh5wOA4c8nLrLYCRnFOTo-IHwYN49pCMF9O29Bv_9V8QfhvK9wkU66xZZtfqPTD-uP0Mjaa76rInA0xJRxm5myevy-O_8ddz/s1600/DSC_0389.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQgGWbsr6NhzUik56aiMVjf_xklZObHy33-ndQI_xcYeLbh5wOA4c8nLrLYCRnFOTo-IHwYN49pCMF9O29Bv_9V8QfhvK9wkU66xZZtfqPTD-uP0Mjaa76rInA0xJRxm5myevy-O_8ddz/s200/DSC_0389.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Razorbill.</td></tr>
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I had trouble focusing on any one puffin; they were all so cute, but by placing myself low down and only looking at the birds closest to the boat I managed to get a few pictures. (As a matter of fact I took over 500 photos!)<br />
<br />
Dotted among the puffins we found a few razorbills, black guillemots and shags but this was really "puffin central". I suppose the reason for this was the shape of the island. It had only a few really precipitous cliffs for ledge-nesting seabirds to lay their eggs but it had a thin covering of soil and vegetation where puffins could dig their burrows. All the same, I would have expected a few more of the bigger auks and perhaps some kittiwakes and fulmars? Please?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitpD4EkTakpxppMRAMrwVcyDDDuejw3fdAYY4N6R7zm_4F3zUIB62i617UoiC623OJkrFFSrnjYs48OMSw_K_Wg6YrescPjH1BuCAdp_I_ZRA-UitqV6xbtve_BU81i0s6DDNcVraua75f/s1600/DSC_0471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitpD4EkTakpxppMRAMrwVcyDDDuejw3fdAYY4N6R7zm_4F3zUIB62i617UoiC623OJkrFFSrnjYs48OMSw_K_Wg6YrescPjH1BuCAdp_I_ZRA-UitqV6xbtve_BU81i0s6DDNcVraua75f/s200/DSC_0471.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I can't see any puffins."</td></tr>
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The reason for their absence was soon obvious. At least 6 white-tailed eagles were methodically working the island over in shifts. They even had a rest area on the end of the island where they could take a break from eating puffins. The skipper explained that kittiwakes had attempted to nest on Bleiksøya but the eagles had driven them off to nest on the houses in Andenes.<br />
<br />
Two methods were used by eagles to catch puffins: We saw the "grab and snatch" method, which just meant flying around the island to intercept a puffin that was getting airborne from the slopes. The eagles would drop their undercarriage and put down their flaps, grab a puffin with one talon and make a landing. The result was a mini snow-shower of black and white feathers. The other method was "loitering with intent". The eagle would just follow a puffin home and then stand by his front door until he came out. The last thing that the unfortunate tenant would see was the inside of that huge, cruel yellow beak. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUKfDnDo8wCNGh8xM39tmDI5Q_bmDKzj51DQH4l6qkpKqLGfimTyyjwyEIT3y1jln6WNMRmtBzLD6i5Oijmxz7-w68vQfyeOcrWJM4HXVfBkX3EMsMYHTHIovONQKDaKbyxkS2-HZ-AgIo/s1600/DSC_0268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUKfDnDo8wCNGh8xM39tmDI5Q_bmDKzj51DQH4l6qkpKqLGfimTyyjwyEIT3y1jln6WNMRmtBzLD6i5Oijmxz7-w68vQfyeOcrWJM4HXVfBkX3EMsMYHTHIovONQKDaKbyxkS2-HZ-AgIo/s200/DSC_0268.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eagle chasing a puffin</td></tr>
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The young puffins were still in their burrows so the loss of an adult would also mean the death of the single chick. It takes both parents to rear the sooty-coloured fluff-balls until they can jump down to the water, which they do even before they can fly. The main food they eat is sand-eels that the adults bring in, several at a time, draped in their bills like a silvery moustache. As the folks come home with the shopping they are mugged by a bunch of thug-birds that chase them, scream at them and even beat them up until they drop the goods. It's a bad neighbourhood.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2slwxcnPhO_tTetUkI5mYTDcaS_BnYbVfVezaw2AUEVLFm6PLVHT67hhngvHe-rq8yMvPh2zRV6WP21L6bWVt2i64Ng3ozdchlm4vpItpVl7zK-zxIdEvWwGe6l6frxVjHKWdqF7prIZ/s1600/DSC_0445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2slwxcnPhO_tTetUkI5mYTDcaS_BnYbVfVezaw2AUEVLFm6PLVHT67hhngvHe-rq8yMvPh2zRV6WP21L6bWVt2i64Ng3ozdchlm4vpItpVl7zK-zxIdEvWwGe6l6frxVjHKWdqF7prIZ/s200/DSC_0445.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iva and Richard.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Large gulls will have a go at mugging and some even behave like eagles, snatching whole birds at the entrance to their burrows, but the experts are the skuas. We saw dozens of Arctic skuas (Parasitic jaegers) attacking the puffins. They behaved like falcons, approaching in steady, level flight and then accelerating into a high speed chase that was over in seconds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhPmG3Ne3yLpmFkUiFf4wtO8L5vX3SIHAySD0VQRl0pbBtE5Mt8afenKiTNPeKzRfyIYz8v_3AxuZ3NovTX6r55CM4YGwEHY7wVy8LGXuUxGrRBm2xsXUDACJoUhyphenhyphenv48eftKW5T9lF3h6/s1600/DSC_0167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhPmG3Ne3yLpmFkUiFf4wtO8L5vX3SIHAySD0VQRl0pbBtE5Mt8afenKiTNPeKzRfyIYz8v_3AxuZ3NovTX6r55CM4YGwEHY7wVy8LGXuUxGrRBm2xsXUDACJoUhyphenhyphenv48eftKW5T9lF3h6/s200/DSC_0167.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
The "Laura" proved to be an ideal vessel for it's job and the skipper did a fine job of pointing out all the birds to us, in at least three languages. My only objection was when he used the ship's horn to frighten an eagle away from a burrow. He said that this was to save a puffin's life and that of it's chick, but my ideal is that we should slip in quietly as observers in order to witness as natural a spectacle as possible, then leave with the minimum of fuss. Tooting the horn may also have scared shags and razorbills from their nests so that gulls could steal the eggs.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfN5epnycRIbuYgQJ3jCrC0d7X-sk2w3gfJ_mWPRTRf0UpoN8HDuFrSFN9lSixc1NYvmAebWzK_ZoNXriHZ-89i6CL87lFv4QW52Adkbbt5Ozyy7cgw4yLT7YrxXuMsjY6yF-bY4BMQFtA/s1600/DSC_0550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfN5epnycRIbuYgQJ3jCrC0d7X-sk2w3gfJ_mWPRTRf0UpoN8HDuFrSFN9lSixc1NYvmAebWzK_ZoNXriHZ-89i6CL87lFv4QW52Adkbbt5Ozyy7cgw4yLT7YrxXuMsjY6yF-bY4BMQFtA/s200/DSC_0550.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Returning to Bleik.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I supposed the eagles would have chicks to feed too, possibly in an eyrie on the island, but was told that most of them were immature birds and that the adult pair nested miles away on the big island of Andøya. I am sure he was right as I saw one fly across from the sheer cliffs at the back of the bay, above Bleik.<br />
<br />
I mentioned my sighting of a rare Long-taiked skua the day before and the skipper told me with confidence "We don't get those here."<br />
<br />
"You do now", I said to myself.<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-36871158613290457642013-07-11T03:57:00.000-07:002013-07-19T15:01:36.617-07:00Dead Whale<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB0IFVfv0I1XEKx5MKMxSwqaMVwvyDSf_U9fPaWN8XOW3A4aE55qtN16OjH9i1_BHvuIQIzzwhEERjfWgoJIgkoBL_OcPjwksZt_B_sRBfwveh5a-h2f1BN_t5pMV_HyMy70YrUr6JFJaz/s1600/DSC_0005+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB0IFVfv0I1XEKx5MKMxSwqaMVwvyDSf_U9fPaWN8XOW3A4aE55qtN16OjH9i1_BHvuIQIzzwhEERjfWgoJIgkoBL_OcPjwksZt_B_sRBfwveh5a-h2f1BN_t5pMV_HyMy70YrUr6JFJaz/s400/DSC_0005+3.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<h3>
Thursday:</h3>
This morning the weather is better but no whales have been spotted so far. We spent the morning waiting for a call from the search vessel, but no news yet.........<br />
<br />
To keep us amused, a dead-whale safari was organised by car to a beach beyond the village of Bleik. It is only 15 minutes away beyond the jagged "Seven Sisters" so it is quite a scenic drive through mountains and moors, past dwarf forests and hill-tarns. We looked hard for reindeer but saw none.<br />
<br />
We saw pretty lake-side cabins and learned that these were the private week-end retreats for the people of Andennes, ten minutes away. I didn't meet any of the local householders, but it looked to me like they had their life-style pretty well sorted out. The other interesting man-made feature was a number of wooden outdoor hot tubs, built into mounds with fire places beneath. I definitely want one at home.<br />
<br />
You might not think it would be hard to find a dead whale, but we missed it on the first pass. It is largely covered with sand and so it has blended into the beach. However, finding a dead whale from downwind is just as easy as you would imagine. <br />
<br />
The corpse was of a quite large male sperm whale that was stranded here last autumn. Sadly the lower jaw, which had the teeth, had been removed but otherwise it was quite intact.<br />
<br />
This dead whale looked even more like a frankfurter than the living Miø did on my first encounter. It appeared to be swimming along the beach, half submerged in sand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWogTrqUNPdkiLBcl23jq-Oy4EWJr8Ckjkmlge8ytvQD1g5KoVsqU4nA8BjT7aoUH_ubNRkxsFkRkgpyWiVx8uuDUUFrLKcD7WUKZsGb3H8ZDE_lYm457N3BxDWXEex2pNTqWVFZQpOloW/s1600/DSC_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWogTrqUNPdkiLBcl23jq-Oy4EWJr8Ckjkmlge8ytvQD1g5KoVsqU4nA8BjT7aoUH_ubNRkxsFkRkgpyWiVx8uuDUUFrLKcD7WUKZsGb3H8ZDE_lYm457N3BxDWXEex2pNTqWVFZQpOloW/s320/DSC_0014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I went to push his nose with my boot but Iva abruptly pulled me away saying that if I did, my boots would not be allowed in the car. The smell is very hard to get rid of.<br />
<br />
I lifted a large, bleached bone from the whale's upper jaw. It was very heavy, even for a bone. Whales need to be heavy to sink themselves, but imagine the effect of extreme pressure on any bone that had air trapped within it. Whalebones are not just dense, they are soaked in oil which may prevent air from being trapped in or between them.<br />
<br />
We had to return our borrowed car to the Whale-safari team, so we could not stay long, but I loved the drive back to the lighthouse. We passed through the village of Bleik which has strips of hay meadows running back to the base of the steep cliffs that back the bay. I was sure there would be corncrakes in there because they looked just like those I had seen in the Hebrides; full of meadow-sweet and <i>Geranium</i>s.<br />
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My eyes were glued to the windows of the car as I searched for reindeer and elk in the distance. I only found sheep, but vowed to come back later in the week, which we did.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-18721986146911122862013-07-11T03:16:00.000-07:002013-07-18T11:49:03.026-07:0012 hour whale hunt.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnsjA6xtvb1PYb-pZJTTal7-ONOyIPNCd28hptftj6XpAlYftENPMSyvSAlU8xzuBYBji1q1E1r167pMg97hXekHu6L3EgfNzwwSaqOHPCW2Fk9dEPfYe3VCZuAmi8Kmw3P1PT4B7aHF5/s1600/DSC_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnsjA6xtvb1PYb-pZJTTal7-ONOyIPNCd28hptftj6XpAlYftENPMSyvSAlU8xzuBYBji1q1E1r167pMg97hXekHu6L3EgfNzwwSaqOHPCW2Fk9dEPfYe3VCZuAmi8Kmw3P1PT4B7aHF5/s200/DSC_0005.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Guides</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Tuesday was a rough day, but it was possible to go out and search for whales. We covered the ferry and one of the whale-safari boats in the morning and then, as soon as we were ashore for lunch we were off again for an afternoon safari aboard the "Reine" that turned into a marathon.<br />
<br />
We found a wale on the hydrophones which was probably the one known as <i>Moby Dick. </i>He was way off to the north and we lost him, so we then turned south for another whale which we did not make visual contact with until around 10 pm. By this time we were 34 Km off shore.<br />
<br />
Every time the boat stopped, seabirds would gather around us thinking that we were a fishing boat about to haul in our nets. This was a good opportunity to photograph fulmars especially.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATL8BJ7NlASREVmbBSF-QVnJawCcLCc_1h4o6MNg4QB4y94MLqZQiGyE9ZVm0qsi9YFXeiTg_4AwKpjWvB4vLQDz6Op1Dw5VDZ78SZa0LbwdUliljAp3QkbeQuL6cRCirNRo_eZbjBeJS/s1600/DSC_0146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiATL8BJ7NlASREVmbBSF-QVnJawCcLCc_1h4o6MNg4QB4y94MLqZQiGyE9ZVm0qsi9YFXeiTg_4AwKpjWvB4vLQDz6Op1Dw5VDZ78SZa0LbwdUliljAp3QkbeQuL6cRCirNRo_eZbjBeJS/s200/DSC_0146.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miø</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The new whale (my first ever sperm whale) blew ahead of us and we approached it quietly and slowly from behind, giving everyone a good opportunity to watch and take pictures. It stayed on the surface for over ten minutes before gliding forward, exhaling and then sounding into the deep canyon below.<br />
<br />
Standard procedure is to stay on-station for roughly 40 minutes until the whale surfaces again. In deep water like this (over 2Km deep) the dive is vertical down and then up again, so we expected the whale to be nearby. During it's descent a sperm whale emits loud sonar clicks, but on the way up they go silent for the last five minutes, so we know roughly when to expect them. Our whale stayed down for 1 hour and 10 minutes, so we had a long, long wait, bobbing around on the rough sea and being sick.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0HYwL0DVVm4MUSZZGFKIwrNIu3YR3WX0zDbNMeJvVqUPEwoY-m3wO-PRy63OU6W7H33eMtyUzllHW4TQVrUE5w5feS3AjWw6u4mEHnrZjaQGLwwkw_L9QL-lnhkM-CO2EJlw39TLNtJh/s1600/DSC_0005+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD0HYwL0DVVm4MUSZZGFKIwrNIu3YR3WX0zDbNMeJvVqUPEwoY-m3wO-PRy63OU6W7H33eMtyUzllHW4TQVrUE5w5feS3AjWw6u4mEHnrZjaQGLwwkw_L9QL-lnhkM-CO2EJlw39TLNtJh/s200/DSC_0005+2.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Midnight sun.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sure enough, the whale appeared again and we knew that we had about 15 minutes to watch it's regular breathing and take the photos needed to identify it.<br />
<br />
I could not resist calling this whale <i>Wienerpølse </i>which is the Norwegian for frankfurter. (Hot-dogs seem to be the Norwegian national dish these days, especially in airports and on ferrys.) The whale just looked like a big sausage lying on the surface of the sea. Not only that; it was a sort of browny pink with cream blotches. I spent ages fiddling with my photos to make them grey before I learned that sperm whales come in lots of shades from brown through pale blue/grey to almost black. They also come in plain white, as you know.<br />
<br />
From the photos kept back on the computers in Andenes, it was easy to identify this whale as Miø.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQU2rwRp5AHKRHKN-bQP1O8WwykPAAhfEo2rqKLDZ7J8kS-a3hHOYSZ0VMnLrNkUFPud9SpvAw5nQloO4aAGRTmShAgMmIW3BnXLop3kXjZRlcQQjD4ZM3y7SNsa6UE4yFPLTk4plwzh9/s1600/DSC_0157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSQU2rwRp5AHKRHKN-bQP1O8WwykPAAhfEo2rqKLDZ7J8kS-a3hHOYSZ0VMnLrNkUFPud9SpvAw5nQloO4aAGRTmShAgMmIW3BnXLop3kXjZRlcQQjD4ZM3y7SNsa6UE4yFPLTk4plwzh9/s200/DSC_0157.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skipper</td></tr>
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Throughout the long Arctic day the crew were always cheerful, encouraging and supportive while they tended the sick and fed the rest of us hot soup and crackers. In the great swell of the north Atlantic, at least half of the passengers were sick but most of them recovered on our way back to port under the midnight sun. We did not tie-up until 1 am.<br />
<br />
As well as the strain of watching all day, first on the ferry and then the "Reine", we nursed aching hips, legs and backs from the constant adjustment to the motion of the ships while our shoulders and arms ached from holding on to ships' rails. Whale-counting is physically punishing, but you have to work long days when the opportunity arises. You have all winter for data-entry.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-17449161962938173352013-07-11T02:31:00.004-07:002013-07-19T00:41:51.935-07:00Lighthouse and Ferry<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgel3U4yn7tvVzog-URosq0bo6I2gvtqwiFJ9nSg6dkv9Zw_r3VvcBFa4KdqNrGc1CbOMDrgVVvqjPCzCDQc_L8l4qioy4D3sxeXXzjndiEJCiwmwjRzgn1oKd1_vSLaQGeVVzYODxiNu_J/s1600/DSC_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgel3U4yn7tvVzog-URosq0bo6I2gvtqwiFJ9nSg6dkv9Zw_r3VvcBFa4KdqNrGc1CbOMDrgVVvqjPCzCDQc_L8l4qioy4D3sxeXXzjndiEJCiwmwjRzgn1oKd1_vSLaQGeVVzYODxiNu_J/s320/DSC_0006.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Half way up the lighthouse.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfc8zAWuN6DIgv84L9s6g5nfxox9qm7fwNLVSZPFX5IZ9J0SksCj0MaFospKfG8eANHvayGzT481KGcIOmOXevQruFFKtvoAj5XFEpFw6rWJ6MmhCu2mb5dMlQ_JOO6p72Er6QQNraiAF/s1600/DSC_0008+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBfc8zAWuN6DIgv84L9s6g5nfxox9qm7fwNLVSZPFX5IZ9J0SksCj0MaFospKfG8eANHvayGzT481KGcIOmOXevQruFFKtvoAj5XFEpFw6rWJ6MmhCu2mb5dMlQ_JOO6p72Er6QQNraiAF/s200/DSC_0008+2.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the top.</td></tr>
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After we put in 12 hours at sea yesterday, so you might think that volunteers would merit a lie in? Nope!<br />
<br />
Today we had groups out on the ferry, the lighthouse and the Whale-safari boat, but only managed to turn up a few porpoises. It was simply too windy to find the whales.<br />
<br />
The lighthouse is a perfect platform to watch whales from, at least on calm days when you can see 22 Km to the horizon. But it is even better to watch bird migration. Even though we saw no whales I was content to see clouds of puffins, scoters, eiders, fulmars and kttiwakes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZHrh-BGnTH2iV0UmvfyxKjIbw_Ip9ZNpD2nCm3jpV34oYIcQaYKQ0b2tNt067WHhjU6e862x1UWTjDN_ubcDHcJrz5l04_UpYXtWOtmO3TLpNdDHeMjhwSTl81eAlKg5cvYsq3QXHV3U/s1600/DSC_0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZHrh-BGnTH2iV0UmvfyxKjIbw_Ip9ZNpD2nCm3jpV34oYIcQaYKQ0b2tNt067WHhjU6e862x1UWTjDN_ubcDHcJrz5l04_UpYXtWOtmO3TLpNdDHeMjhwSTl81eAlKg5cvYsq3QXHV3U/s200/DSC_0022.jpg" width="131" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the ferry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The ferry trip is always worth going on becasue the Fjord is so spectacular. There is a resident pair of white-tailesd eagles there and a picturesque little town hugs the foot of vertical black cliffs, with a jagged horizon all round. Alpine snow fields reflect the glare of the sun even on dull days, giving the landscape an eeirie, empty feel despite it's majesty. On clear days we could look north beyond the neighbourhood to Måsvaer on the extreme Nortn West corner of Norway.<br />
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To make up for today's lack of whales, here is a video of Glenn the Sperm whale diving in the Fjord off Andenes on Friday 5th July 2013. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncxpHNzMJ3k">GLENN</a><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-80072038868831405882013-07-08T09:00:00.000-07:002013-07-19T00:45:20.246-07:00Data Entry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczHfCgPGS56tgsmQQ1PAErGNjdKQ4XFus4IIm7ki7PO1XCQdnSXGZRPNfGCVli4aX5ALJN3u6leLud-1-wwk7b5YVNiBk_tbElfuv7m4wAVAsVBDUlZZnHlvNmCZl_M87fQ-GiQsoQWbU/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczHfCgPGS56tgsmQQ1PAErGNjdKQ4XFus4IIm7ki7PO1XCQdnSXGZRPNfGCVli4aX5ALJN3u6leLud-1-wwk7b5YVNiBk_tbElfuv7m4wAVAsVBDUlZZnHlvNmCZl_M87fQ-GiQsoQWbU/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Today we have data entry. It sounds boring, but it's not dull when it's about sperm whales. It might be the nearest I ever get to one.<br />
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We worked in two groups:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1ZbHCYuNOurXnCq6JfyM8Wu7MnvPQn5sACzWZAZMMEkdrFJgJy-irWFo7CzrbnaIrEoTXDRmPtDtWbKnsMD3dmBo17dFU01_v0JXVEnoNYElQ7zkUFUj9rSyn56C0aFQWuau2H6bT7tq/s1600/DSC_0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO1ZbHCYuNOurXnCq6JfyM8Wu7MnvPQn5sACzWZAZMMEkdrFJgJy-irWFo7CzrbnaIrEoTXDRmPtDtWbKnsMD3dmBo17dFU01_v0JXVEnoNYElQ7zkUFUj9rSyn56C0aFQWuau2H6bT7tq/s200/DSC_0012.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="text-align: center;">One group transcribed the logs of whale sightings from the voice recorders into an Excel spreadsheet. A good observer can give alot of concise data in a brief message. We at least need the GPS location and time, the species seen and a description of the </span>sighting, such as what the whale was doing. Using this data in the long, dark, Norwegian winter they will be able to plot the movements of whales in the Andenes area. Mostly they will be male sperm whales, but we transcribed records of porpoises and a minke whale.<br />
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The second group worked on the photographic library to organise pictures of sperm whale's flukes and dorsal fins. Currently there are over 30 individual whales active in the library, which is not too many to compare your shots with.<br />
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We also saw footage of an ideal day at Andenes, with good visibility, calm water and a lot of whales. You can see this on You-Tube at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHU9SIfg-6E">Whale Trip</a>. It was taken in the winter when the sperm whales are joined by killer whales and humpbacks that seem to be following the herring.<br />
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I was told that, when the herring are in, the pubs fill with fishermen from Norway, Russia and Estonia. On the night we popped in, the only customer popped out as soon as he saw us!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-27821908900799424662013-07-08T04:23:00.000-07:002013-07-19T00:48:29.305-07:00Ferry Trip<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1RluLXkI5vBjVwo__hK-Y-hphMFXquEMwQ-NU-IOJgXf1DWmfVWuUVDlfoO0IlhdgmBspZw3oakaR8I5gWZ5KWZitZ1r8edwlegzlQxmvmDXcRcrMPlwSUBICRSJI8vRB35QoKDTQDa5/s1600/DSC_0011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD1RluLXkI5vBjVwo__hK-Y-hphMFXquEMwQ-NU-IOJgXf1DWmfVWuUVDlfoO0IlhdgmBspZw3oakaR8I5gWZ5KWZitZ1r8edwlegzlQxmvmDXcRcrMPlwSUBICRSJI8vRB35QoKDTQDa5/s200/DSC_0011.jpg" width="131" /></a>The ideal ways to monitor whales is from small manoeuvrable boats but this is not always possible, especially in the kind of weather we have seen this week.<br />
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There is a car ferry that runs several times a day to Grynnfjord across a channel that is over 300m deep. This is not really deep enough for sperm whales, but does attract other species such as killer whales and humpbacks. In a southerly blow the route is sheltered by Andoya and so it is possible to look for whales away from the exposed, deep-water canyon.<br />
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The ferry provides a high, stable platform to work from but will not diverge from its course to see whales so that they can be photographed for identification purposes. What you can do is make a transect, which is a standardised sampling technique for a repeatable route over a fixed time, using the same amount of observer effort each time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjylEky7XvzLvdcdRmUaEXmjXYsIpWyAiI7ZtobPscRno4WQcsKzSUK8oDL31Uro7EfgeTMjvQHwB-it-OpmhI2aCzrDX6AfXUm32dZDxsy4gx3ZyKSzMP7w52BwWXgR1ZPC14w6stmVBTL/s1600/DSC_0022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjylEky7XvzLvdcdRmUaEXmjXYsIpWyAiI7ZtobPscRno4WQcsKzSUK8oDL31Uro7EfgeTMjvQHwB-it-OpmhI2aCzrDX6AfXUm32dZDxsy4gx3ZyKSzMP7w52BwWXgR1ZPC14w6stmVBTL/s200/DSC_0022.JPG" width="200" /></a>Our job was for two observers at a time to scan the sea to the horizon on either side of the ship. Any sightings are recorded on a digital voice recorder so that we can transcribe them later onto a spreadsheet.<br />
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The ferry company is very co-operative and they allow the watchers to be on the ship's bridge for the duration of the voyage once we have left harbour. They also allow us free passage. The skipper and first mate were friendly and we were really comfortable inside the wheel-house, though spray made viewing difficult.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCEr2raWJoOvEDu2itIdGlMgqNlmhwVtWQ86aKUhx76LElPKStXNAwKO0lG0XUUXfHKO7tblDSUjVFgj6PpE6Lwo-VHYmghBs7o6mqIlKjUg0-QOubGSSw7qusP0pyQ7jyPG7tfanstwO/s1600/DSC_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCEr2raWJoOvEDu2itIdGlMgqNlmhwVtWQ86aKUhx76LElPKStXNAwKO0lG0XUUXfHKO7tblDSUjVFgj6PpE6Lwo-VHYmghBs7o6mqIlKjUg0-QOubGSSw7qusP0pyQ7jyPG7tfanstwO/s200/DSC_0030.JPG" width="200" /></a>We did not see any whales, but we found a small school of porpoises as we entered the fjord.<br />
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For me, being in the wheelhouse and seeing the craggy Norwegian mountains approach was a good enough reason to be out there. I also managed to see quite a few seabirds including gannets, puffins, black guillemots, razorbills, fulmars, and kittiwakes, but the highlight for me was to watch arctic skuas robbing the kittiwakes of their fish. A great skua flew past in a straight flight, just passing through.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdBJ-GqWu8MIeSuIVV9Ksx5bP47dc4bCokKb4NxTt45WtfEkMnL8f6rcmAWA38BrP2p9Qu_pBgGuxEBTActDwiVl3e5HPc-Nxeorbqzlt5EfJnGNhmZ6ybDYTi5WHQZEaiA9KrdU_rPVS/s1600/DSC_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdBJ-GqWu8MIeSuIVV9Ksx5bP47dc4bCokKb4NxTt45WtfEkMnL8f6rcmAWA38BrP2p9Qu_pBgGuxEBTActDwiVl3e5HPc-Nxeorbqzlt5EfJnGNhmZ6ybDYTi5WHQZEaiA9KrdU_rPVS/s200/DSC_0033.JPG" width="200" /></a>I had been told to look out for white-tailed eagles in the fjord, but I saw none. never mind; we will be back, especially if we get more rough days.<br />
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Unfortunately, Monday was even rougher than Sunday, with gale force winds so that even the ferry was cancelled. This was a day for data entry.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-53066683718081397972013-07-08T00:24:00.004-07:002013-07-19T00:53:50.394-07:00Museum<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm9YiEjyZ8McljSfx3oOr5tz5JE5798TvFxi_YNbcEFnWARV-EBmGCaqtg_V9uvbZcMFW4OCFnRNYPoEo0iNNU9hj2Aos1BKUuIOgTLLD3e_iRbeLHgydU0U_oioEiTdegPR3ElE_ge0F9/s1600/DSC_0029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm9YiEjyZ8McljSfx3oOr5tz5JE5798TvFxi_YNbcEFnWARV-EBmGCaqtg_V9uvbZcMFW4OCFnRNYPoEo0iNNU9hj2Aos1BKUuIOgTLLD3e_iRbeLHgydU0U_oioEiTdegPR3ElE_ge0F9/s320/DSC_0029.JPG" width="320" /></a>Sundays weather was too rough for the whale-watch boats so we had an extended visit to the whale museum.<br />
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We joined 80 people for the tour, which seems a lot. Normally, I would run a mile from such an event but we were soon split into smaller groups according to language.<br />
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Our guide Ronny was a model for any teacher. He used visual aids and clear, concise English to get across many aspects of sperm whale biology, making good use of the exhibits. It would not be nearly so useful to walk around on your own.<br />
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The most fascinating aspect of sperm whale biology is their adaptation to their unique lifestyle; in particular their sonar system which completely governs the front end of the animal. The skull is modified to become a loud-speaker and to support the huge sausage-like amplifier in front.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-37208635466579625732013-07-07T13:38:00.003-07:002013-07-19T00:54:31.667-07:00Group PhotoThe group assembled for supper after a long day in boats, in training and up the lighthouse. This provided an opportunity for a group photo. Perhaps we will take another picture outdoors, when it stops raining.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Earthwatch/Whalewatch at Andenes, July 2013</td></tr>
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This photo appeared along with an article in the local paper.<br /><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-58856562581265636372013-07-06T11:18:00.003-07:002013-07-21T12:15:32.160-07:00Team Brief<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMVA9XaqVUVJICU5AzSMwwB3nUz_97sR3_mL1dEHoHJh9ZA3cUinCH1VBNdFgOk4OynxocDvf1JmEAzlbCNT2L-Gyf6rNJXZLQvbTVCJHhHKBB15qqYod06hrwS4WKFS3dqPue56IDMrG/s1600/DSC_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMVA9XaqVUVJICU5AzSMwwB3nUz_97sR3_mL1dEHoHJh9ZA3cUinCH1VBNdFgOk4OynxocDvf1JmEAzlbCNT2L-Gyf6rNJXZLQvbTVCJHhHKBB15qqYod06hrwS4WKFS3dqPue56IDMrG/s200/DSC_0014.jpg" width="131" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lighthouse</td></tr>
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The first day of the Earthwatch Expedition started at noon when we all assembled at the Whale Safari dining room. This was mainly an introductory day for us, with Iva giving us the background detail and showing us around the village, which was eerily quiet on a Saturday afternoon.<br />
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Our job is to monitor whales; mainly sperm whales. We will be doing this at sea from tour boats, a research boat and a ferry, as long as the weather permits. We will also spend an hour at a time up at the top of the magnificent Ardenes Fyr, which is a steel lighthouse that still functions at night. There is some spectacular optical gear up there for us to monitor whales with, but I have already been told it is not for bird watching. (It didn't take them long to figure me out.)<br />
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The local scenery is spectacularly jagged and the weather changes by the minute, which makes for interesting pictures at least; and it keeps the flies at bay.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seven Sistors</td></tr>
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I think I'm really going to enjoy it once we get out there. Today's highlights were meeting the team and botanising along the shore. I found mountain avens at sea level, growing among other so-called alpines that I have seen up Ben Lawyers in Scotland. I must find a flower book in English. Meanwhile, I will make a blog-page just on the local flowers.<br />
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The birds have been pretty much what you might expect so far; seabirds, and lots of them. I did find a rock pipit and a while wagtail on the beach and I saw three red-breasted mergansers on the water, but I'm looking forward to seeing more birds close up when we get among the whales. This will be tomorrow morning if all goes according to plan. (<i>It didn't, of course. Ed.</i>)<br />
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Meet the Team</h3>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7QQWp5lHdt3ynWB2EWyvfZF8DhkRj205HvUC_uIjw1AFJ7ZKRa1ZG8wdzzuBl4Bh-Ycphmi0lsZB2bnaAG3KdOdMTJFHvhCaeAqzC6fFg7WqIoePYLqpRd_yIjzZDuO7Qm_nPvG58ihl/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi7QQWp5lHdt3ynWB2EWyvfZF8DhkRj205HvUC_uIjw1AFJ7ZKRa1ZG8wdzzuBl4Bh-Ycphmi0lsZB2bnaAG3KdOdMTJFHvhCaeAqzC6fFg7WqIoePYLqpRd_yIjzZDuO7Qm_nPvG58ihl/s200/DSC_0081.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iva.</td></tr>
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We have quite an international team. Our leader on the project is Iva Kovacic who is doing two Ph. D. projects on the whales at the same time! She has been here for eight years but is actually from Croatia. She has also worked in Greece and the UK.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inaki</td></tr>
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Inaki Aizpurua is an extremely lively and enthusiastic interpreter and researcher who bounces in and out of our activities all the time when he is not with the tourists and guides at the Whale-Safari centre. He is originally from the north of Spain where he studied psychology.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lloyd</td></tr>
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Lloyd Figgins is the global safety officer from Earthwatch and is based in Oxford, UK. He is a man hooked on adventure and has even rowed the Atlantic.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marta</td></tr>
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Marta Acosta Plata is not only interested in new ways to monitor sperm whales; she is also very keen on involving the local community. Her studies up to now have taken her to Greece, Spain and Argentina.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kristina</td></tr>
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Kristina Happ is looking at the benefits that whale watching can bring to the local community. She is a trained social worker; really interesetd in people. She will be our Mum for most of the time, making lunches and making sure we are happy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marina</td></tr>
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Marina Gortz is from Sweden doing an MSc on the feeding ecology of humpback whales and the effect of fisheries on them.<br />
In addition to the scientific team, we also get help from the Whale Safari staff who are all very helpful and knowledgeable.<br />
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There are six of us on this team as Earthwatch Volunteers. Three are from the USA and three from the UK.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgio6YHnyukauIlk7gv4_lKsruiXDP7X7oVEMHY9L-y3jhFO32DJb-1488U6N1ePEia6gTCyxK5gUrdmuKwG8zGJV6C4RtFg9NObXqAaQvu_DCzhBXO0yXVAh7aTbRPt4tsHMET_TwFE7VZ/s1600/DSC_0059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgio6YHnyukauIlk7gv4_lKsruiXDP7X7oVEMHY9L-y3jhFO32DJb-1488U6N1ePEia6gTCyxK5gUrdmuKwG8zGJV6C4RtFg9NObXqAaQvu_DCzhBXO0yXVAh7aTbRPt4tsHMET_TwFE7VZ/s200/DSC_0059.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warren</td></tr>
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Warren Stortroan is a veteran Earthwatcher from St Paul, Minnesota. He has been on 77 Earthwatch expeditions around the world and he is a great ambassador for the programme. On his way to Norway he participated in another project in the French Alps where he studied marmots.<br />
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Warren, like many people in Minnesota, is actually of Norwegian descent so he is especially interested in the local culture. He stoopped off in Oslo for a cultural visit on the way up.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ann</td></tr>
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Ann is from down-town Chicago and has almost been on as many trips as Warren. She is game for an adventure and has many a tale to tell.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laura</td></tr>
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Laura is from near Washington DC. This is her 7th expedition with Earthwatch. She has studied dolphins in Greece and elephants in Tsavo.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eleanor</td></tr>
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Eleanor is from South-west Wales where she lives almost on the beach. A lot of the wildlife we have seen here is familiar to her and she has been on several projects, particularly in Namibia.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7tAQZvxGop9Z-MBmZ97KjuCTd8oeMHEPvx7YN96BwTc40DnUAIU1OaK2zk8wpnS-EbqElvCbC9ts0HWG5iK6bmOqfNSXB8exdBodybddJwAbVlgBLnc06nQuXGjALABV3U9-JBcZ1hKA/s1600/DSC_0045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7tAQZvxGop9Z-MBmZ97KjuCTd8oeMHEPvx7YN96BwTc40DnUAIU1OaK2zk8wpnS-EbqElvCbC9ts0HWG5iK6bmOqfNSXB8exdBodybddJwAbVlgBLnc06nQuXGjALABV3U9-JBcZ1hKA/s200/DSC_0045.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Richard</td></tr>
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Richard lives near London and he knows as much about whales as any-one here, having been on Earthwatch projects in British Columbia and Quebec, Galapagos and other whale-some hot-spots.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWpfO4oyF2KeWe8bqGeSKHfu99WXFRnaY73yCO1dWTNkaaJnrZtCcdkOIUDe8CJAMsZsqSKKZVm_Ui9E4GdmhFqanXnini0ccvcM2Y3uSQrKPf_h4KIW961e03utmUy2Ep-LrX0LxRoiZ/s1600/DSC_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWpfO4oyF2KeWe8bqGeSKHfu99WXFRnaY73yCO1dWTNkaaJnrZtCcdkOIUDe8CJAMsZsqSKKZVm_Ui9E4GdmhFqanXnini0ccvcM2Y3uSQrKPf_h4KIW961e03utmUy2Ep-LrX0LxRoiZ/s200/DSC_0061.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Team Brief</td></tr>
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That just leaves me, Jim Stevenson from near Cambridge UK. It's my first Earthwatch trip, my first visit to Norway and hopefully, my first encounter with a sperm whale.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-50075595598633486822013-07-05T14:33:00.005-07:002013-07-20T01:50:05.028-07:00Tromsø<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT90P3NuRwv3Mp-kZGOgKaNXFXWDNuopeTtcnMnxmL4lb0dBfPmCkYuPEPS8OqN8gRM9niNU-Mhk5c9hvoljN6J4dn8ZR0rfBWA4hAHU5jbZb7dGjdZ4_lyxj9eebQiYRDpRI5HJ5pBMGc/s1600/DSC_0008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT90P3NuRwv3Mp-kZGOgKaNXFXWDNuopeTtcnMnxmL4lb0dBfPmCkYuPEPS8OqN8gRM9niNU-Mhk5c9hvoljN6J4dn8ZR0rfBWA4hAHU5jbZb7dGjdZ4_lyxj9eebQiYRDpRI5HJ5pBMGc/s320/DSC_0008.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">10:30 at night.</td></tr>
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It is eleven thirty at night in Tromsø and the sun is shining brighter than it has all day. I'm eating reindeer salami from the local co-op, washed down with apple juice because eating out is outrageously expensive. A burger costs £18 to £20 and a beer costs £8. But let's not quibble; I have had the most amazing evening.<br />
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My first sight of Norway was at mid-day, just south of Oslo, when we came in from the south. From above everything gets flattened out but I had an impression of pine woods with lakes and some dairy farms. As we circled to land it became obvious that southern Norway is really quite hilly. It reminded me very strongly of Minnesota with red farms sitting down there in the woods. That's no accident of course: Minnesota was largely settled by Norwegians who brought their architecture and cheese with them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHVV-swfgwMb6atV-RHZPWDB-tBHUx8QG930EzMlgR3nHetAe20QaLpqeI48_e5OM5eG6oFoeP5Ri_BuRIbygQ9UjPNvb8fz0GiFAMgR-7s569NGosQ2jB4mwyoqmi7QIME4s9uftGUmk/s1600/DSC_0088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHVV-swfgwMb6atV-RHZPWDB-tBHUx8QG930EzMlgR3nHetAe20QaLpqeI48_e5OM5eG6oFoeP5Ri_BuRIbygQ9UjPNvb8fz0GiFAMgR-7s569NGosQ2jB4mwyoqmi7QIME4s9uftGUmk/s320/DSC_0088.jpg" width="211" /></a>As you fly north out of Oslo more forests and lakes appear. I could pick out blueberry meadows and likely looking fishing rivers. There is quite a lot of forestry too, but the trees quickly start to thin out as bare, glaciated rocks start to dominate. Hard ridges and striations are etched out in white where snow still lies, even in July.<br />
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Beyond that, most of Norway lay under the Great Norwegian Cloud for the afternoon and it was quite nerve-racking to be approaching Tromsø with the wheels down but with no sign of the ground. However, we slunk down a valley and dropped straight on to the grey, wet runway. The plane came to a stop outside the rain-lashed terminal and there was absolute silence on board. Despite most of the passengers being Norwegian, I guessed that they were thinking the same as me. "When is the next flight back to Oslo?"<br />
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Given that this was to be my only day in Tromsø, it seemed like a good idea to ignore the rain and get out and explore the area on foot. My eyes soon grew accustomed to the greyness and the temperature was comfortable as I strolled past the shops, the wooden houses and the church on my way to the harbour. Arctic terns streamed overhead constantly and little flotillas of eider ducks swam past. I even saw three red-throated divers flying over the port.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQIt5mYeJMN8J_LFXsuNYKHzbHotWQy_pPjs0EI2HPeNgH8PPc5NKCit8bPXnZfWMxUfhdoxv8h63fzgeMKkZRBz_cEd8n8dOaYA9OF8NWJmaFht4qbcLLjkwfP0F8paksM7D_OAZ7BQ6/s1600/DSC_0110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQIt5mYeJMN8J_LFXsuNYKHzbHotWQy_pPjs0EI2HPeNgH8PPc5NKCit8bPXnZfWMxUfhdoxv8h63fzgeMKkZRBz_cEd8n8dOaYA9OF8NWJmaFht4qbcLLjkwfP0F8paksM7D_OAZ7BQ6/s200/DSC_0110.JPG" width="200" /></a>I started to spot familiar plants growing around the houses and on the verges of the roads. Most of the plants were ones that I last saw in Scotland but there were some surprises. Giant hogweed is very common in the town and has become a kind of corporate symbol. It's not native though. In fact, there are quite a lot of non-native plants such as lupins and other North American species. With the rain, the mountains, the sea and the wooden houses it could be the Pacific North West. Think of the "Twilight Saga" which is set in Washington State around towns such as Forks and Port Angelus. I guess Vancouver would be even more like it or Spielberg's California as portrayed in "The Goonies".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcl9CcOTwjo_KukwtnDbmYrAhSRp4jTmcpKnggrPod0a1Cx8yZcKNtdZBF89wNJ_AaSk-mq8fTizuoVZ1ydhiQXQdxoEnPnNZfAIgDWnl51kwx_nxt4DswcQmnXv2hnDe7hROekOhBSVBE/s1600/DSC_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcl9CcOTwjo_KukwtnDbmYrAhSRp4jTmcpKnggrPod0a1Cx8yZcKNtdZBF89wNJ_AaSk-mq8fTizuoVZ1ydhiQXQdxoEnPnNZfAIgDWnl51kwx_nxt4DswcQmnXv2hnDe7hROekOhBSVBE/s320/DSC_0120.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
The botanical gardens are part of the University Campus, about 5 Km out of town. People only seemed to have a vague idea where it was and I walked past it twice before being put right. I dropped down into it by following the geology trail through some birch and willow woods. Arctic (or alpine) plants were growing naturally everywhere. I even found a sphagnum bog with cotton grass, sundew, cloudberries and blue-berries growing. Rocky outcrops had cranes-bills and dwarf cornels growing on them while the wetter bits had orchids, pink valerian, ladies mantle and meadow-sweet. My star find was grass of Parnassus which was my grandmother's favourite plant.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOuqLi8aKcn9_PCm9RQrTMzfwij83P97beKddOVsxcD0K3WmATj_k1Y2W979WOeGLR6oaz0UKEJSKJxDPr4gJxWgmXDRiiXFL2mf6HHLar7AzPUSFXDj637ZhDFOBKU6Lax7md9kmjwPE/s1600/DSC_0140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcOuqLi8aKcn9_PCm9RQrTMzfwij83P97beKddOVsxcD0K3WmATj_k1Y2W979WOeGLR6oaz0UKEJSKJxDPr4gJxWgmXDRiiXFL2mf6HHLar7AzPUSFXDj637ZhDFOBKU6Lax7md9kmjwPE/s320/DSC_0140.JPG" width="320" /></a>In that little bit of Arctic woodland I saw and heard two emblematic northern birds; fieldfares and redwings. I also saw willow warblers, green finches and great tits, but hooded crows and magpies were the most vocal.<br />
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I walked back towards town on the harbour road where common gulls dive-bombed me to keep me away from their chicks. White wagtails and house sparrows called from factory roofs and a pair of ravens had their home atop a water tower. Not a bad list for town, is it?<br />
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If you qwould like to see a slideshow of my Tromsø photos, click <a href="http://s1289.photobucket.com/user/jim2stevenson/slideshow/Tromso" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-73242458564366396762013-07-01T10:49:00.002-07:002013-07-04T11:02:35.842-07:00Dread thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm seriously losing sleep now. Getting to Gatwick on Friday at the crack of dawn means leaving home on the first train of the day at four something. Then there's the logistics of seeing Tromso in a single evening. Can I fit in all the stuff I want to do?<br />
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I talked to Trevor Gunton who is an old Arctic hand, and he told me that the botanical gardens are the best bit. 'Breeding bramblings and other birds in trees that are as far north as trees go'. He also told me two more important facts: there is no admission charge and they are open 24/7.<br />
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The other place I want to go is up the cable car to the top of the mountain that overlooks the town. Midnight would be good. The car runs until 1 am in July. That gives me a very long day, but my adrenalin will keep me going, I hope.<br />
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The weather is another concern, but it looks like Friday will be much the same as here; a chance of a shower but sunshine with a temperature of 21 deg C.<br />
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After that, there are so many unknowns, such as "What birds are on the nearby ponds at Andenes?" There might be phalaropes, divers, waders and whatever. I will just have to go and find out.<br />
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The picture above is one made by my son Nick when he was a student. This could be me (OK, not with a proper beard) if we got swept away into the North Atlantic and had to eat raw fish to survive. It hangs on the wall in my bedroom, which is why it is engraved in my sub-conscious. I might buy a yellow, oilskin Sou-wester hat.<br />
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We have been asked to bring our favourite recipe to cook for the team. Mine is Indonesian Nasi Goreng, but can I get the ingredients in Norway? I've packed the spices and ketjup on the assumption I can get meat and prawns, onions and leeks at the co-op.<br />
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Got to pack! Cheers for now.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2434793988543765415.post-27263360965131229372013-06-08T09:42:00.000-07:002013-07-02T02:03:13.879-07:00BBC Wildlife<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgHUFgvzZVvAucTUHAPQas7bsowgYW_O8WYf-43XPVEuEcx63pI56GVwXYDj5e8KUGQPlRZmuG54ObU6wkKtu_DAJVGwvtdSSQtK_grYyZJWGqQfqHeiQJJ8kcoGt0EaCv0oWMed7LlLe/s1600/DSCF7197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgHUFgvzZVvAucTUHAPQas7bsowgYW_O8WYf-43XPVEuEcx63pI56GVwXYDj5e8KUGQPlRZmuG54ObU6wkKtu_DAJVGwvtdSSQtK_grYyZJWGqQfqHeiQJJ8kcoGt0EaCv0oWMed7LlLe/s320/DSCF7197.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
I won this trip to Norway as a result of being the BBC Wildlife Magazine Nature Writer of the Year in 2012. My original choice was to go mud-sliding in Costa Rica in order to find frogs, but because we have a son with Angelman Syndrome, we decided that this was too far to get back from if there was an emergency at home. Earthwatch offered me a few alternatives and my wife leaped at the idea of Norway as it is only just round the corner from us; isn't it? Actually, it takes two days to get to the whale-watch location from here, but only one day to come back.<br />
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Now we have the extra care in place for my son, it looks like we have "All Systems Go" for next month.<br />
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The story below is a version of the one I sent to the magazine.<br />
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<h3>
MILLER'S THUMB </h3>
<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">If you were to visit a public aquarium, you probably would not spend long in front of a tank of bullheads. They aren’t handsome, colourful or large, and they don’t do much. They might be hiding under a rock if there was one, or they might just sit there on the bottom of a bare tank looking grumpy. The truth is, you don’t find bullheads in captivity and I can see why. Neither do you normally come across them in the wild; you have to actively seek them out. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">Before life got serious with girls, I hunted bullheads, loaches, crayfish and sticklebacks in any stream shallow enough to paddle in. You could catch these pugnacious tiddlers with your bare hands in less than a foot of water. If you worked upstream and gently turned over the rocks ahead of you, a bullhead would often dash out and then vanish under a nearby rock, or he might just stay still and rely on his camouflage for protection; if he did, he’d be yours. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9FFljeOXJEbuG3-PgSq0B9QxcLKqJf-hejV29oAFRRgsRA0DDdb32q6mXQ9zaUxpeupzbo2z7suPVmB-Urj2dgc1745CaS_SjgqoGQF5MQk-yHsoQlvXrNDzoVPJKNVPv7km6NDGl4C9/s1600/DSCF7574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl9FFljeOXJEbuG3-PgSq0B9QxcLKqJf-hejV29oAFRRgsRA0DDdb32q6mXQ9zaUxpeupzbo2z7suPVmB-Urj2dgc1745CaS_SjgqoGQF5MQk-yHsoQlvXrNDzoVPJKNVPv7km6NDGl4C9/s200/DSCF7574.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">In the hand a bullhead is all head and belly like a big, wet tadpole, but in a jam-jar at eye-level he’s a river monster. An angry male looks like an heraldic dragon, painted black with all his details picked out in gold. I have watched such a fish in a jar for hours, waiting for him to calm down and revert to his normal blotchy sand and brown camouflage, but he didn’t. I reckoned he would stay mad at me as long as he was in the jar, or he would die, so I created a series of pools in the shallows and stocked them with black males and stripy females and watched them. They still didn’t change colour. It seems that the males stay angry-black in spring, even though at other times they can change tint to match their surroundings.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjED69pFmo7sNcuod6pz_Mc1ooTMqopqFYsk-U-RJ6df9H3LCjncv-_TzX9118tSOQ-VCN1vahoTBkzeqvwzw-6x2A75yJ2Ghb7mLm2hQ4dbSbhEkFz_0o0M-oL5612agVY8Kg2ZJKcxQg/s1600/DSCF7592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjED69pFmo7sNcuod6pz_Mc1ooTMqopqFYsk-U-RJ6df9H3LCjncv-_TzX9118tSOQ-VCN1vahoTBkzeqvwzw-6x2A75yJ2Ghb7mLm2hQ4dbSbhEkFz_0o0M-oL5612agVY8Kg2ZJKcxQg/s200/DSCF7592.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">A recent visit to Stotfold water-mill set me off on a trail of re-discovery. Dust-laden sunbeams slanted across the room. and behind the commentary of the guide I could hear the heartbeat of cogs and the turning of the great mill-wheel below. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">“The miller knows when the sack is full when it reaches his thumbs, which he keeps tucked into the sack. Of course the longer the miller’s thumb; the less flour there is in each sack. Some millers had prodigiously long thumbs.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">I just heard the words “Miller’s thumb, miller’s thumb” over the bubbling water under the machinery and I wanted to paddle in that spring-time, spring-fed mill-stream and search for the little fish of my childhood called miller’s thumb, which I call bullhead and my American wife calls sculpin. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikC1_x6EM47Qf4IKKBbdaSssbXYt3yidYG0-uIVsmbxb_AE5UNar0g7sBMdTd9V5U5awBlIJHASVkGlvD75RuhhyewuopnYMl-uJYjIaKiPcgAI4SGSznL8kiW1zBAUOkiZbaoEdVrbzRf/s1600/DSCF7612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikC1_x6EM47Qf4IKKBbdaSssbXYt3yidYG0-uIVsmbxb_AE5UNar0g7sBMdTd9V5U5awBlIJHASVkGlvD75RuhhyewuopnYMl-uJYjIaKiPcgAI4SGSznL8kiW1zBAUOkiZbaoEdVrbzRf/s200/DSCF7612.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">Three weeks later I bumped into a lady who had lived in Stotfold since childhood. She remembered going to the mill for chicken feed and reaching high above her head to pull a long rope that rang a bell in order to catch the miller’s attention, three stories up. And she remembered catching bullheads with her friends in the River Ivel just below the mill. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">On my local patch today, there is a flood relief channel called the Black Traps. Old friends remember learning to swim there when there was nothing but fields and cricket-bat willows lining the river. Now the skyline is dominated by a Superstore, a new housing estate and a power station, but it still has an attraction for me and for a new generation of tiddler fishers. Below the weir the stream looks just like a classic mill-stream with a gravel bed showing between lines of waving weeds and emerging patches of water cress. There are no large stones to turn over so we fish our tiddler-nets upstream along the edges of weed-banks and we catch sticklebacks, minnows, loaches and bullheads that we observe in jam jars before releasing back to the wild. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFmmC0EgIxvBjQIC44e1L_UXo8Sma0jfr2pgEqK80R6SV5WJk7uzow4xpjDZUCFg2LRgZrpQsmuHTi_vv_PHGcLDdLOidgKkfZszrOsxyJvuaCXwEr2e_pgr7jgqnCuD_rQ7zlHpgHyY5/s1600/DSCF7530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFmmC0EgIxvBjQIC44e1L_UXo8Sma0jfr2pgEqK80R6SV5WJk7uzow4xpjDZUCFg2LRgZrpQsmuHTi_vv_PHGcLDdLOidgKkfZszrOsxyJvuaCXwEr2e_pgr7jgqnCuD_rQ7zlHpgHyY5/s200/DSCF7530.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">I’m standing barefoot in six inches of cold bubbling water that flows over loose yellow-brown gravel but all I can see in the stream is the rippled reflection of willows and sky. For a child, this shining hour of undirected discovery in the twinkling, sunlit world of the stream will never be forgotten. For an old man, it’s about chasing half-memories out from under stones, hoping to see them re-played in the sunlight of an April morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Gill Sans Light'; letter-spacing: 0px; text-indent: 21.2px;">Catching tiddlers is like fishing through your memory. Reflections distract you and the thing you are looking for dashes away from you or slips through your fingers, but you catch the unexpected and that’s always better than catching what you seek. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0