Bucket List Biggie – Fjortende Julibukta

Fjortende Julibukta

Still stinging from our failure to see a Polar Bear on the pack ice, the next morning we prepared for our next outing.

We had traveled south again and were going to visit Fjortende Julibukta, a cove in Krossfjorden, and Fjortende Julibreen, its corresponding glacier. 

Fjortende Julibreen

The translation of the name is July 14^th Bay and July 14^th Glacier. Named by Albert I of Monaco in 1906, the location honors Bastille Day and French independence. 

Iceberg in the bay

That's a bit odd for Norway, but I guess you can name things whatever you want to and see if it sticks. And, multiple nations have had – and still have – their hands in Svalbard's business. 

Later that afternoon, we would head across the fjord to Lilliehöökbreen (Lilliehöök glacier). Two gorgeous places right next door to each other.

Map: G Adventures

For the morning outing, the plan was to split the group in half. Half of the group would go to shore to explore the beach, some hanging gardens and a kittiwake breeding colony on the steep cliff that overlooks the bay.

Our morning's destination

The other half would then take to the Zodiacs and explore the cliffs that rise up from the beach. We hoped to see nesting Atlantic Puffins and Thick-billed Murres there. Then, we would switch.

Puffins and Murres nesting on the cliff

Zodiac Touring
Waiting to depart for the Zodiac tours was always a little frustrating. I like to get going in the morning. But, a tour has to cater to folks who don’t like to get up super early and who believe in that weird ritual called sit-down breakfast. Personally, I would rather just jump on the boat and get going. Don't get me wrong; it’s not like we had to wait around for brunch; breakfast was generally served at 7:00 or 7:30 a.m. But, for a Stevens, that is late. Some travelers probably thought the wake-up schedule was rough. With constant daylight, however, you never really feel an early call is early or a late evening is late.

Heidi with her guard gear

Of course, the expedition team took advantage of morning time to do their advance work, which included getting the Zodiacs down off the top of the ship and staging them and sending a team to scout for Polar Bears and take up their bear guard positions.

The way G Adventures manages getting 115 people to and from tour locations is simple. On the first day, we signed up to be in a expedition group. There were four groups that could then be called at different times to suit up and load up. 

Scott and I were Puffins. There were also Arctic Foxes, Guillemots and Walruses. 

Each Zodiac can hold up to 12 people, so each group would use 3-4 Zodiacs.

Heading out for the morning's adventures

On some outings, Scott and I rode in the same Zodiac. Sometimes we split up. We were on different Zodiacs for Fjortende Julibukta. But, all of our Puffin Group went to shore together and then to sea together, in that order.

Fjortende Julibukta
Finally in the water, heading to shore, my spirits were lifted by the sunny skies and mild temperatures. Yesterday’s gloom had dissipated.

A group by the face of  Fjortende Julibreen

The area we visited was the most verdant of our entire trip. Dominated by a looming cliff , the stone beach slopes up to rocks covered with tundra plants.  Before we even landed, we had another new animal sighting: Svalbard Reindeer.

Grazing Svalbard Reindeer

There were a few about five grazing on a cliff close to our landing. I suspect that they were females because their antlers were not particularly large (yes, female Reindeer have antlers). I will talk in detail about Reindeer in a later post. 

Walking down a steep cliff

They are funny-looking creatures, with stocky bodies, coarse almost-white hair and dark circles around their eyes that make them look like they have giant eyeballs. They are not nearly as graceful looking as their cousins, the Mountain Reindeer or the Caribou.

They are funny-looking critters

The Reindeer’s presence would have been obvious even if we hadn’t seen actual animals. The hillside and beach are littered with hunks of recently molted winter coats, shed antlers and the bones of those that did not survive the winter. 

Reindeer hair is everywhere

Most likely the bones belonged to Reindeer that starved or died of natural causes rather than being attacked by Polar Bears. But, regardless, the bones are picked clean by birds and Arctic Foxes.

Antlers and bones are also everywhere

The birds don’t all escape, however. There is plenty of evidence that the predators take a few resident birds, as well.

Remains of someone's lunch

Once on shore, we got a close look at the hanging garden. This is an area where a stream trickles down into an indentation in a low part of the cliff, providing an ideal place for tundra plants to grow. When you get close, it is amazing how many tiny plants are clustered together in this sheltered spot.

Tundra plants

Now, it was pretty noisy on shore because immediately above us was a massive Kittiwake Colony. 

Kittiwake cliff

Thousands of birds were nesting on the side of the cliff and they were wheeling above us, chattering and squawking. Kittiwakes are very, very vocal. There is always an argument going on. Lots of arguments. Lots of noise.

At first, you don't see them; then you realize there are hundreds; then, thousands

One of the fascinating things about the hanging garden was that if you walked into the cove, the cacophony halted. All the noise disappeared. Total silence. The dampening effect is a combination of the overhang of the cliff and soft, spongy tundra plants that act like sound-proof wall padding. It was really interesting.

Close-up of the gardens

I mentioned when I talked about Barnacle Geese that they nest on cliffs, although we hadn't seen any nesting. Here, we got to see a few who were nesting on the cliff above us.

A nesting pair of Barnacle Geese

And, some more were on a hillside.

More nesting Barnacle Geese

And, some more gave us a fly-by.

Something may have spooked them

This place was shaping up nicely. A beautiful day. Gorgeous surroundings. Interesting birds. New animal species to photograph. Could it get any better?

How about a Parasitic Jaeger that had a nest in the rocks on the opposite side of the landing area? At first the Jaeger seemed fairly calm (and hard to see among the rocks), until a couple of Pink-footed Geese decided to stray into its territory. 

Pink-footed Geese, just walking by

The Jaeger let the Geese know that they were not welcome.

A very active Parasitic Jaeger

I climbed a little way up the very steep hill to get a better look at the Kittiwakes, but found that they were still too far for my little trek to make much difference.

There were just so, so many

Maybe Scott had the better idea: a comfy rock with a view of our ship.

Scott and a traveling companion waiting to board a Zodiac

Atlantic Puffin and Thick-Billed Murre Viewing
And, then it was time to switch places with the other groups. They came ashore and we loaded the Zodiacs to visit the cliffs in search of Puffins and Murres.

Gerard at the helm

Scott's Zodiac took off and we got ready to follow. I was on a Zodiac driven by Gerard, the bearded history expert and expedition guide. Scott's boat had spent a bit of time watching the birds on the cliff and then moved around the cliffs to explore the other side of the rock face. We settled in and I was super pleased that I was perfectly positioned in the Zodiac to photograph the nesting birds.

One of the issues with Zodiacs, of course, is that you have to sit facing inward, so, often, you have to twist around to take photos. 

It can be uncomfortable when you are in a heavy coat and a life jacket.

You have to stay seated while moving, but when stopped, the people on the near side can kneel on the bottom and use the sides as a support; the people on the far side can stand. 

It's a good day when you are on the right side of the boat and you can just sit and take pictures.

Oh, my. There were lots of Puffins and Murres, right there in front of us.

A Puffin lookout

Tight fit

But, this was actually a relatively small colony; Thick-billed Murre breeding colonies can comprise over a million birds. They pack themselves tightly on narrow ledges and steep cliffs that face the water, taking up less than one square foot per bird. 

Even though a breeding pair lays only a single egg each year, they are one of the most abundant marine birds in the Northern Hemisphere. This is mainly because predators are deterred by their concentrated numbers and the inaccessibility of their breeding sites. 

Their main predator is the Glaucous Gull, which feeds on eggs and chicks. Common Ravens will also take unattended eggs and hatchlings.

A Glaucous Gull, the most feared bird in the arctic

Because Thick-billed Murres are closely associated with sea ice, climate change may be a threat to them. However, they seem to be adapting. 

Thick-billed Murres on the edge of the pack ice

Populations at the southern edge of the range switch from feeding on ice-associated Arctic Cod to warmer-water Capelin when the ice breaks up early. Plus, they adjust their egg-laying date to the weather.

Thick-billed Murres do not build nests, but lay the egg directly on bare rock. Both parents incubate the egg and raise the young. Because food is heavy and the birds can't even get off the water when their bellies are full, adults can provide only one food item at a time to their chick. Chicks spend between 18 and 25 days on the cliffs before leaving for the sea. That is a lot of work for the parents and probably the reason they have just one chick.

A Thick-billed Murre trying to get airborne

Once ready to leave, the young will wait until nightfall and jump off the edge towards the water, followed by a parent that glides within inches of the fledgling. At sea, the male and the chick stay together for about two months during which Dad continues to provide food for the young.

The Puffins and the Murres nest in close proximity to each other and neither group seems to be disturbed by the other’s presence. 

Two groups of nesting birds

Nesting Atlantic Puffins

Unlike Murres, Atlantic Puffins dig burrows for the single egg each pair lays. It was hard to see if there were any burrows in these cliffs, but I suspect that had carved niches around the rocks. 

All the Puffins we saw were resting on the rocks. Apparently, this is common behavior. They spend time standing by their burrow entrances and interacting with passing birds. Dominance is shown by an upright stance, with fluffed chest feathers, a cocked tail, a slow exaggerated walk, head jerking and gaping. Submissive birds lower their heads, hold their bodies horizontal and scurry past dominant individuals.

If a pair loses its egg early in the incubation period, the female often lays a second egg. Like Murres, both parents share incubation responsibilities. They each have two feather-free brood patches on their under sides, where an enhanced blood supply provides heat for the egg. 

The parent on incubation duty in the dark nest chamber spends much of its time asleep with its head tucked under its wing, occasionally emerging from the tunnel to flap dust out of its feathers or take a short flight down to the sea. Puffin chicks mostly feed on whole fish and grow rapidly. After about six weeks, they fly to sea, where they remain for several years without returning to land.

I took a series of photographs of the cliff-side Puffins and Murres and then decided to concentrate on trying to capture some flying Puffins. Despite their stubby wings, these birds are fast and they are difficult to catch in the air.

My best Puffin-in-flight photo

I felt like I was making progress on my goal to get some good flying Puffin photos, but I wasn't there yet.

It was then that things got interesting. 

The flag of our people

More to come in the next post.

Trip date: June 15-July 4, 2019