Five hundred words

Because this picture only tells half the story.

This is an adult female osprey.

She carries a perch in one talon.

She has two nearly grown nestlings.

She was in the middle of feeding one of her nestlings when a male osprey (not her mate) flew near her nest.

In this shot, she's in the process of chasing that male away while hanging on to the fish.




Seriously. Why do I love these birds?

Osprey on the island

It's been hard to know how many osprey are around the Victoria are because I have little time to watch them.

I saw this one at Patricia Bay on the Saanich Inlet in early May, handily scooping fish from the shallow waters.

This would be pre-nestlings, so the birds aren't yet rushing about. 

There's time for perching and eating without disturbance.  That will have all changed by now in nests that have successfully produced young. I know of two in the Victoria are that I'm concerned about.

One is in Esquimalt and the female on that nest died last summer after fledging two chicks. The wildlife rescue centre that received the dead bird reported that she was riddled with tumours but they did not manage to do a necropsy (long story).

The other is the nest of the campus sweethearts from last summer. They lived high above a soccer field at the University of Victoria. So far this year, I have only seen the female hanging around what remains of the nest, seemingly waiting for the arrival of her mate.

So there it is. There are plenty of osprey to chase, and not the time to do it in. I'm planning though, don't worry, I'm planning.

Holding back

I'd like to tell you the whole story of the osprey, up above the shipyard. The female giving me glaring looks. But I have to withhold while I seek a market for the tale.

I can share some photos. I've had two sessions now and anticipate a third.

And I can tell you this. This osprey pair had three chicks in spring – small, medium and large. Fledging three chicks is rare in raptors. Siblicide is common and it seems quite likely that medium and large kicked their weaker nest mate out some time in July. At the very least their greater size allowed them to keep the fish away from small, so the bird may have simply faded away.

That's life. In this case it's a two-for-one deal. And before you cast human judgements at the adult birds who turn a beak to this. Reproductive investment for a bird that lives a long time and has few offspring comes close some years to costing them their lives. In terms of survival of the fittest and passing on their genes, their best bet is to back the winners.

Sitting on gold

Me and this female osprey nesting at the Esquimalt Graving Dock, a federal ship building and repair facility near Victoria, B.C.

Like the UVic osprey, this pair has chosen a busy place to arrange some sticks on a light standard. They live on an industrial dock where large vessels like cruise ships and ferries get hauled out of the water for welding, painting – you name it, it's happening while this female defends and feeds her young and the male delivers fish and hangs out on a nearby tower.

What struck me immediately about the graving dock, is just how clean it is. The Environmental Services Department takes its work seriously. They keep an eye on all the wildlife that transit through or live on the site. Measures are taken to keep green corridors open for the movement of deer, raccoon and otters. Great care is taken with the many hazardous substances used around the ships, to keep it from poisoning the water or land.

Everyone there seems pretty keen about the osprey and keep tabs on the nest with a security camera. Activities on the nest, used intermittently since 2006, are logged and staff want to do whatever they can keep the site suitable for osprey generations to come.

Meanwhile, I've got a boatload of pictures that I have to sit on until I have a market for them. But I can't resist sharing a few now.

Thanks to the Public Works and Government Service Canada people for putting me up in the air with the osprey.

Campus sweethearts

To say I'm happy with my new camera outfit would be a bit of an understatement. I resisted as long as I could, in loyalty to my old 20D, but I have to admit that five years in digital technology time makes a noticeable difference.

Once my 70 to 200mm lens arrived I practically ran up to the University of Victoria to snap the pair I've been following up there.

These two have opted to nest on a light standard stuck between the soccer pitch and the track and field facility. That means it's a busy place, not only home to the uni athletes, but also the site of competitive sports between people much younger and older than that.

And the funny thing is that the osprey kind of squawk through the commotion. Like they didn't choose to nest in a busy urban environment, for at least the second year running.

The good thing about osprey is that they can fledge chicks just as well from a nest in a grocery parking lot as they can from one over a remote boreal river. In fact maybe the squawking isn't even a complaint (as it sounds to my human ears) but a greeting.

On this day, the fields were empty. Here, the male delivers a fish to his mate, whose posture suggests she's dealing with chicks. Right on schedule.

Lock up your gold fish

Doesn't this osprey look demonic?

I haven't done any digital manipulating of his eyes (this is the male of the UVic nest). It may be that he's got the old third membrane drawn.

In osprey, and other birds that dive head first into the water, a special nictating membrane protects the eye from those high impacts.

Also called the haw, this slider moves across the eye horizontally unlike human eyelids. It can be clear or transluscent. Some animals, like camels, use it to remove debris from the eye. Polar bears get protection from snow blindness from the nictating membrane.

I heard a story about the UVic osprey grabbing overgrown goldfish from garden ponds. Probably didn't need the old eye protector on that dive.

Last photo tip

If it's a picture of osprey it doesn't matter how crappy it is. Everything else you need to know about photography you can learn from people much more qualified than I.

Oh, wait, there is one more tip that this photo demonstrates. It was actually the last thing I was going to say before I recommended reading good books on the subject or taking a photography course.

See in the bottom left part of the frame where all those wires and things lead the eye out of the picture? You don't want that. When composing, take time to really look at what is in the viewfinder and where your eye travels within that rectangle. If the eye is running out of the frame, that's not good. Sometimes squinting reveals the overall impression of form and line and the path the eyes take.

I didn't do that in this case because these are the first osprey of the season and the first nest I've found in Victoria, so I was freaking out. Wildly snapping away without any thought at all.

That's it for photo tips. We will now resume our regular osprey programming.

Osprey games

One day, while watching the osprey nest in Nanaimo, I watched an episode between the two nestlings that got me thinking.

They were waiting the return of their parents, and the fish that would accompany them.

They cried constantly. Then lifted off the nest and chased each other.

One of the birds had this tangle of rope caught in her talons. 
The other chased aggressively.

It was like that mad hour in human homes before dinner time. When kids are out of control with hunger and it feels like it could turn murderous at any time.

This looked that way, but maybe it was simple play. Many mammals and birds are known to engage in play of some sort. As it is for the human animal, the young are practicing skills they will need to use when it's time to fend for themselves.

In the case of these osprey siblings, they flew at eachother and made dives and dodges to evade attack. The one without the rope in talons picked up a sturdy stick at one point and tried to drop it on its soaring nest mate below.

These birds, and their parents, would soon be leaving on a long trip to their wintering grounds in Mexico and the northern parts of South America. Besides the acrobatics, just working their flight muscles would seem to be a good idea before the journey.

Once the fish arrived, the pair returned immediately to the nest and didn't move again as a steady stream came in on the feet of their fishing guardians for the next half hour or so.

Absence

I've been negligent with posts lately, but I'm not totally slacking.

The weather has turned to rain and wind, the osprey are gone. I'm less likely to be in the field getting new material but I am researching osprey migration.

There's a fair bit of information out there but not a lot specific to osprey from Vancouver Island. The short story is that most osprey from British Columbia winter anywhere from Idaho to Texas with the majority found in Mexico and El Slavador.

I'm sifting what I'm learning for the long version. Until then here's another shot from the Nanaimo group back in August.

Things I know about osprey

It's been a busy time of bathroom renovating, working and planning for a big change. I haven't been out collecting material – didn't see any critters during the bathroom reno, which is a good thing.

Still thinking about osprey though. Here's a list of osprey facts that came off the top of my head.

They have no near relatives. They are somewhere between a falcon and an eagle. Latin name Pandion haliaetus.

People call them fish hawks. They eat fish only.

Females are bigger than males because they defend the nest from predators like bald eagles.

They have what's called a nictitating membrane on the eyes that protects them when they dive into the water head first.

They dive in head first but come out with fish in their talons. (Would love to see the underwater roll).

They shake like a dog when they exit the water.

There used to be colonies of 200 to 300 nests in parts of eastern North America before DDT reduced their numbers.

They don't seem bothered by human activity and often nest in the open, in busy ports and urban areas.

They are one of the most cosmopolitan species of bird, living around the world on fresh and salt water.

North American osprey winter from Mexico south to Northern Argentina. There are some year-round residents in parts of the Southern U.S.

Empty nest

I returned on Saturday to an empty nest.

I scanned around until I located one of the young osprey sitting on the line of a ship docked at the port.

It cried a bit then flew off in the direction of the fishing grounds just over a small rise where the river pours into the sea.

I packed it up and went to see what the family was up to on the other side and it was like a different world.

At low tide, pools of water glittered on the mud flats. Rather than concrete and metal of the nest site, it was all water and trees.

The location of the nest was pretty unpicturesque but the fishing grounds were gorgeous and situated in such a way that I thought the parents could keep an eye on the nest while foraging.

If so, both male and female would be able to provision the chicks earlier in the season. The typical osprey nest sees the female standing guard against chick-eating predators for months while the male runs himself ragged feeding the whole family.

If this pair have found a way to do both at once, that would be a significant advantage. 

That would make an extremely interesting research project.

The fact that all four birds now spend time at the estuary means they may not be at the nest anymore. They are much more difficult to spot spread out over a large bay than sitting on top of a light standard. 

Soon they'll be headed south. Osprey I've watched previously depart in early September for their wintering grounds in central and south America.

I may see them again, or I may have to wait until next spring.

Help in high places

I started eyeing up the big orange structure and assessing the many stairs on it just before Mark and his assistant wandered over. They were employees at the port-loading facility and I thought this might be the part where I was asked to leave.

I was dead wrong.

The pipes over my head had been rumbling and the two men were checking to make sure something came out the other end. They stopped and we chatted for a while. Mark told me the real name for the big orange thing – container crane – not as technical as I would have expected.

He suggested that would be a good place for me to be. I agreed and he gave me the number of the "guy that owns the thing." I couldn't imagine one guy could own anything of the sort. 

This crane must be over 30 metres in height. You can see it from just about anywhere on Nanaimo's waterfront.

I had written off the idea of gaining access as ridiculous, but the thing is, if you ask, people usually help you out. In fact, I didn't even ask. It's got something to do with the birds.

I took the number knowing it would be a weekday thing to set up. As I discovered the next day, there  might not be another week with the osprey.

The family tree

Ok, Ok I had it all wrong.
On return to the nest last weekend the situation quickly revealed the family's structure.

On arrival there were two osprey on the nest, crying incessantly. That makes them chicks but I never would have guessed it by size.

For some time they just sat waiting for their fish to be delivered.
At last they got off the nest and flew around chasing eachother in what could have been play or could have been a more sinister kind of sibling rivalry.

It's not uncommon in raptor nests for the stronger nestling to do away with the weaker, but that's much earlier on.

These two are pretty much full-grown and not likely to risk injuries from a battle with a nest mate.




As they flew, the rope-tangled talons came into view, meaning it's one of the young with the problem. But she's huge. I would never have believed that was this year's offspring if the parents didn't come along shortly thereafter.

Until then, the fledglings soared around taking pot shots at eachother but once they heard the call of a fish-bearing parent they rushed back to the nest.

From that point on it was a steady stream of what looked like perch brought over by both adults.





Five fish came in the 30 minutes I stood there watching. The adults were still out fishing when I left to get my dinner.

Fruitful searches part IV

Back on the boat, editing photos, I could zoom in on the rope and got more concerned as it looked like it had been tight on the upper leg and rubbed feathers away and into the skin.

My instinct always is to leave well enough alone, but I didn't feel right knowing she could be in trouble and not consulting someone.

I ruled out the government agency. I pictured nets being dropped from a helicopter on an animal who can likely solve her own predicament.

I looked up the local rescue agencies. Rang one number, no answer. No surprise on a Saturday evening. I didn't leave a message.

Within ten minutes, Lorinne called me from Second Chance Wildlife Centre. I gave her a sketch of the situation.

"Is she flying?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," I said
"Then that's it," she said.

They wouldn't attempt to catch a raptor on the wing. Whew, I liked that answer.

We talked for a while and she told me about a recent rescue of a juvenile osprey.

The bird had landed on the Gabriola ferry with the marks of an eagle attack. Lorinne retrieved the bird and immediately shipped it by floatplane to O.W.L. on the mainland in Delta, B.C.

She asked if I was around for another day as the bird would be back for release soon and would I like to be there?

Tough question, that part of me that doesn't agree with the interference goes against the other part that wants to be as near as possible to these birds and the part of me that believes that wildlife rescue, when done well, helps keep some populations going in a human-dominated landscape.

She said she'd call over to O.W.L. to find out when the release would happen.

It seemed the young male didn't know how to fish yet and they wouldn't free him until he did. There were training sessions going on with a pool and goldfish. Lorinne said osprey are hard to rehabilitate because they are fussy eaters.


As for the entangled female, O.W.L. reported that if she couldn't free herself, she would eventually get into trouble. They said her mate would feed her but eventually give up if she couldn't pull her weight.

Lorinne and I both wondered whether the rope had come from someone trying to catch her.

I gave her the nest location so she could monitor, or get people who work at the port facility to keep watch.

If she comes to ground exhausted or hurt, they will pick her up.

Looks like weekends in Nanaimo will be the new regime. I hope the rope is gone when I see her next.

Fruitful searches part III

For the Duke Point trip, I had no map. I drove all around the industrial park and the ferry terminal on the little finger of land poking into Georgia Strait.

Heading down the last road, I ended up in a log-sorting yard on the water next to what looked like a mountain of salt and a huge, red, ship-loading structure (not the technical term).

Ready to call it a day I sat, looked at the log booms and containers on barges sitting in the bay.

A dark figure perched on a nearby rail caught my eye.



To the untrained eye, it could have been an immature sea gull, or a bald eagle, but I knew immediately that the white speckles on the brown back meant one thing. Osprey.

I quickly got my camera out and photographed its back in case that was all I was going to get.

It soon tired of my attention and lifted off, and I was prepared to be thankful I saw anything until I followed its flight to the top of a light standard in the middle of the huge concrete loading area.

It flew to the sound that had been nagging me from over my left shoulder. The sound of big, hungry, young osprey waiting for fish.



It was more than likely the male I first saw, quickly getting a bite of fish before delivering the remains to the mob on the nest.

From what I could tell, the female and one nestling were up top and once they tore into the fish the flapping and crying stopped.

Sometime later I saw two on the nest with two perched nearby, suggesting the typical brood of two young but they were so big, it was hard to tell who was who.

Also, the band of dark feathers at the neck that usually signifies a female seemed to be present in all of them making it more difficult to decide who was the mature male and who a big chick. The female adult stood out because she's bigger.

She stood out for another reason, too.

After the feed, two birds came back to my level at the rail. The mature female seemed to be carrying moss in her talons. Nest repair? A bit of a surprise as what would have been a deep cup nest earlier in the year was now flattened. The platform was more like a meeting place than a shelter. Fledglings and adults don’t need a nest, just a fish-delivery point.

As the female passed over me, I could see it was rope tangled in her feet. Closer still and I saw it was old yellow polypropylene, about a quarter inch, that she'd been worrying at.


It's surprising she couldn't free herself with her razor-sharp beak. Then again, I couldn't know how long she'd been dragging it around.

I continued snapping, wishing I could just cut that rope off her, but she didn't look distressed or bedraggled. I watched for a while longer and left them in peace.

Fruitful searches part II

Next I headed out toward the Nanaimo Lakes area where I had looked a few weeks earlier.

That search ended at a TimberWest gate where a nice young man told me I had to pay two dollars to continue to the lakes.

What? A logging company, given public forest land for free by the B.C. government, now wants to charge me to go to the lake?

I don't think so.

I ended up looking along the Nanaimo River that day with no luck. Had a really nice swim, though.

The rumoured nest I was looking for was supposed to be in a patch of woods that had a no trespassing sign on one access point, which I skirted around until I found a path on the other side.

As always, prepared for my task, I tiptoed over thorny blackberry vines in sandals leaving trails of blood.

No osprey.

But the man at the wharf told me about another nest out at Duke Point, where the ferry runs from Nanaimo to Tsawwassen. He said I could get permission to visit the site when the port office opened on Monday.

Right.

Off to Duke Point.



I'm not going to say how I knew about the first two locations. OK, I will. I Googled ‘osprey nests in Nanaimo’ and they were pinpointed on Google maps. Ahhh, the cushy life of a modern naturalist.

Fruitful searches part I

At long last I have found an osprey nest.

I have been, somewhat casually, tromping around lakes and wading up rivers around central Vancouver Island looking for something that is often conspicuous. When I found it, it was.

I had two leads to follow around Nanaimo – the Port of Nanaimo Assembly wharf and a cluster of trees just off the Island Highway.

I started at the wharf, a huge loading area for heavy industry right downtown and next to the Gabriola ferry terminal. I checked in at the commissionaire's office. Locked. No surprise on a Saturday.

So I drove on out passed the many 'NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL' signs until the guy in the green truck raced over with an amber light flashing and stopped me.

I find there is nothing wrong in these situations with using a little female charm and he led me to where a nest had existed earlier this summer. It was right at the water's edge, high up on a light standard with a flat platform on the top. An invitation to osprey.

He couldn't help himself. He told me how it had two chicks but that the parents abandoned them. They still saw the osprey around, he said.

What may have been seen as abandonment may simply have been that the chicks were ready to fly. I didn't get the whole story from him.

For now, there were no osprey around. I decided I could call back to learn more and continued on my search.

Success at last

Oh finally. I have found an osprey nest.

It's not quit what I had expected – it's in Nanaimo in a heavily industrial area – but I got my fill today.

That's not true.
I got a taste and there's a story that goes along with the 115 photos.

For now, here's a look at what makes my heart beat faster.

On osprey time

This is not an osprey. It is a dragonfly. Despite being smaller and faster than an osprey, it is easier to photograph. I took this photo last time I was at the pond looking for the osprey. The big bird made an appearance, did a fly-by, sat in a tree (out of sight) then flew off toward Alberni Inlet.

I'm seeing osprey everywhere, but not finding the time to sit in one place and watch them.

I've seen one at Sproat Lake, but that lake is so big I wouldn't attempt to find a nest there. I've seen my friend up at the ponds intermittently. Watched her fly from the east (nest?) and soar down to the west, in the direction of the Inlet (fishing?).

She's probably the best bet to spend time watching. A friend has loaned me a portable blind, so now it's a matter of dedicating a day to osprey. That shouldn't be too hard.

Yesterday I was photographing motocross, yep that's the kind of thing I do, and a mark in the sky caught my attention.

Sure enough, crooked wings and all, a good sized osprey glided over the dusty, noisy track. My lens swung skyward practically involuntarily.

And I thought 'Hmmm, is that the one I see at the ponds?' The distance, as the osprey flies (in this case), isn't great. Or is the osprey population really taking off in this part of the world as I have suspected for several years?

Hard to say. It would be nice if there were some money out there for me to quit my day job and find out. 

Osprey news

Took a quick run up to the pond and saw the osprey before I went away.

She seems a little cagey, like I'm disturbing her, so I'm doing my best to give her space.

For now.