Research Diary

This morning we lost one of the greatest seabird scientists, conservationists and petrel heads of the Southern Hemisphere – Kerry-Jayne Wilson.

What Kerry-Jayne achieved in her lifetime to protect all kinds of seabird species is tremendous – and if you haven’t heard about these achievements, it’s just a sign of how successful she was.

Generally, those conservation projects receive greatest recognition that keep critically endangered species on life support, often with no real perspective for a recovery. Kerry-Jayne’s work, however, focussed on ensuring that species did not even slip into this state of utter dependency of human intervention. Her invention of the fabled burrow flaps – a semi-clandestine operation past NZ notoriously broken permitting system – helped to restore the Chatham petrel from a critically endangered status in the early 2000s to a hugely improved vulnerable status with increasing population trends. She managed to inspire West Coast communities to care for their Westland Petrels and was one of the main instigators within the West Coast Penguin Trust to build miles and miles of penguin fence along sections of highway that were a death trap for countless little penguins.

Kerry-Jayne also was an integral part of the Tawaki Project, both in her support to get the work done but also in the field. And there is one story I will forever remember and take as an inspiration.

In October 2017, a team of three, Kerry-Jayne, Jeff White and I, were tracking tawaki in Harrison Cove, Milford Sound/Piopiotahi with GPS dive loggers. We had three units on penguins, and we were desperately trying to recapture the penguins to take the devices off. One bird –Yellow – had given us the slip for three straight days. While Jeff and I hid on the bushes near the penguins’ main landing site, Kerry-Jayne had assumed the role of the spotter scanning the bay with her binoculars for our bird. She relayed any arrivals to us via radio. We had already gotten back two of our candidates in the late afternoon, but Yellow again was a no show. We waited patiently. Penguins arrived, hopped out of the water, preened, and waddled off into the forest. But not Yellow.

Just after 8pm, my radio crackled, and I heard Kerry-Jayne’s voice saying: “There she is. At the far end of the rocks.”

Far end of the rocks? What was that supposed to mean? It’s far too steep for a bird to get out there. So, I answered: “Say that again? Did you say ‘far side of the rocks’?”

“Yep. Saw her come out there.”

“Impossible! Where? You sure?”

“Pretty sure. But if you stand around questioning my eyesight, she won’t be there much longer.”

I looked at the rocks, basically just a series of near vertical granite slabs that disappeared in the clear waters of the fjord. How was I supposed to get round there? And how on earth did she spot Yellow in there?

“Okay, I’m going”, I said. But when I arrived at the rocks and faced the prospect of having to climb around these slippery monsters with a greater chance of ending up in the water than making it around them I raised my radio and said “Kerry-Jayne, are you really sure? I mean how…”

“Just keep fucking going!”

And so against what I perceived as my better judgement, I started climbing, digging my finger tips into tiny cracks in the rock clinging on for dear life. I’m not a big free-climber, so it was a terrifying experience all around.

I reached a tiny ledge and could not believe my eyes. There was Yellow. And by the looks, Yellow was just as surprised to see me. When I picked the penguin up, she gave me a nasty bite that let me scream out loud in pain, my cry echoing over the still water of the cove.

With the penguin still pinching my hand hard making my eyes water my radio crackled again.

“Fucking told you so.”

Oh yes, you did. Not only did I survive the climb, but we got the bird and our device back. If there’s rocks in the way to your goal, you gotta do what you gotta do.

You just keep fucking going.

We will, Kerry-Jayne. When we sail towards penguins islands in the future, I will keep an eye out for you gliding with your beloved seabirds over the waves of the vast beautiful ocean.

Glide on forever Kerry-Jayne. Your friend, Thomas.

While we’re still trying to catch up with posting stuff about the last breeding season, the Tawaki are already starting to come back to go through their annual feather change.During a brief visit to Milford Sound last weekend, to check our transponder bridge, surveillance cams, and re-bait our trapline, we came across this plump young female. Together with her partner she had chosen this lovely spot amongst the ferns to hang out while growing her new dive suit.

During a brief visit to Milford Sound last weekend, we came across this female about to go through her annual feather change. As new feathers are produced, the old ones get pushed out giving the birds a rather fluffy look. Interesting Tawaki almost double their weight in preparation for their annual moult. As new feathers are growing and thousands of old feathers a falling out, she will soon look like an experiment of a fire cracker and down pillow gone wrong. Don’t be alarmed if you see such a penguin. It’s perfectly healthy and doesn’t need any help! Best give them lots of space since they cannot go foraging for food but need to live of their fat reserves while they have holes in their dive suit.

Fantastic to see the first candidates returning so fat and healthy from their epic pre-moult journey. Over the next few weeks more and more tawaki will return to Southern New Zealand to moult. Let’s hope they’ll all find similarly lovely and safe retreats to hide away for their personal annual lock down.

In late October, last year’s tawaki chicks usually start popping up in the breeding colonies. In some years, there are heaps of them, but this year we only saw a handful which suggests that the survival of last year’s chicks cohort wasn’t particularly good. La Niña and the associated warmer ocean temperatures in the Sub-antarctic resulting in lower productivity and less penguin food may have made life exceedingly difficult for many young penguins.

However, a few tough ones did show up on the Shelter and Seymour Islands this year while we were there. Like the fellow below.

Even though the grey beard provides one-year-old tawaki with a rather distinguished old man’s look, the short, pale crest gives their young age away. And as most juvenile tawaki, this one had not a clue what he was supposed to do. It seems as if he (for it is a boy, look at the honker!) wandered aimlessly through the forest and ended up at the least populated eastern side of the East Shelter Island. Eventually he found his wee little nook to plonk down in and contemplate what to do next.

A penguin’s day usually starts pretty early. Tawaki often leave their nest before sunrise. With light levels still below par when it comes to foraging, the birds often spent the first hour or two at sea to have extensive preening sessions…

…or going for a run with the mates.

Filmed with a PenguCam on breeding female from Seymour Island, doubtful Sound, Fiordland, NZ

Often, the cool-down period for a tawaki family after a chick-feeding event is the exact opposite of action packed. Especially if the chick (or chicks) in question are nearing fledging and need a lot of food.

In tawaki, not only is it the mother that has to find, catch and bring home all this food. She also has to regurgitate (nothing but a fancy word for “vomiting”) all the nice tucker for her offspring. It is left to everyone’s imagination how exhausting the whole process is.

No wonder then that after the chick has been fed the social life of the adult tawaki seems to happen in super-slo-mo.

An unusually crowded caravan of tawaki at the Northern Landing on East Shelter Island.

Although there are an estimated 110-120 tawaki breeding pairs on the island, you hardly ever see more than one or two at a time.

On one hand, this is due to the fact that there are four main landing sites as well as a handful of smaller landings. So the 240 or so breeding adults distribute themselves quite a bit.

On the other hand, tawaki have experienced considerable hunting pressure over that past 600-800 years. So emerging from the bush in large numbers is a bad idea as it would make a penguin hunter’s life very easy.

One side effect of this is that filming tawaki is a real challenge and requires a lot of patience. But, according to the film crew that worked with us in Doubtful Sound/Patea, this made spotting tawaki so much more exciting and rewarding.

Mini-crèche (by crested penguin standards) of tawaki chicks in a tree root cave on East Shelter Island. As the chicks get older their parents leave to their own devices during the day. Chicks from nests that have neighbours, start to wander over to see what the kids next door are up to.

Here we have the youngsters from nests SE14a, SE14b and SE15 having a bit of a sit in at number 15’s nest bowl.

Tawaki breeding in the open are pretty rare. Open nests that can be viewed from some distance away eve rarer.

But that is exactly what a camera man trying to film breeding tawaki wants.Well, nest SE70c met all the required criteria and, thus, became the hero nest for a documentary shoot that we supervised for the last few weeks.

The few clips we’ve seen were amazing. But it’s another couple of years until the will be broadcast. We, for one, are counting the days!

A tawaki road block on East Shelter Island, Doubtful Sound/Patea.

While working with the local penguin population – filming for a major documentary series and continuing our research on the side – we frequently had to cross the island. The track passes along one of the manliest and most populated (7 nests!) tree root caves on the island.

One day we were making our way back to our boat landing, when we ended up in a stand-off with a troupe of penguins that emerged from said cave, I suppose for a breath of fresh air (with 9 chicks not potty trained the cave is a rather smelly affair).

There we were, three humans and four penguins just eyeing each other up for several minutes. It was a rare and special moment where we could be really close to the birds without them making a hasty retreat.

The tawaki breeding season this year is a bit weird.

While in Milford Sound chicks are already ganging up in crèches – something the young ones do when 3-4 weeks old – the penguins in Doubtful Sound are all over the place.

Some nests have big chicks that don’t have any next door neighbours old enough to cuddle with yet. So dad will have to do. In other nests, the chicks have just hatched.

It would seem that the La Niña conditions over the last winter have thrown a spanner in some of the penguins’ works so that they had to work overtime (as in ‘find more food’) to prepare for breeding which made them return a few weeks later than normal. Others, however, apparently managed to come back as planned.But why do we see this in one fjord, but not the other?

As we said… all a bit weird this year.