The Farallon Islands National Wildlife Refuge
Home to hundreds of thousands of nesting seabirds, colonies of sea lions and seals, it is a wildlife spectacle like nowhere else.
Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) in flight, Southeast Farallon Island. Incredibly dedicated parents, gulls will enthusiastically guard their small nest plots from would be predators or invaders. In a colony of 20,000 of its kin, space is certainly at a premium.
Western Gulls (Larus occidentalis) courtship feeding, reuniting with their lifelong mates on Southeast Farallon Island after a winter spent apart.
A Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) guards it’s eggs in a colony of thousands. If they survive, these chicks could live upwards of 25 years.
On my way to do some routine nest counts of cormorants, but I could not figure out for the life of me why an adult Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) was defending this cinder block so vigorously, that is until I took a closer look. This chick is making good use of the human presence on the island, having found a safe place to nap! .
Brandt's Cormorant (Phalacrocorax penicillatus) collecting material from the granite slopes. One of my favorite subjects, this beguiling Brandt’s Cormorant was collecting plant material to build its nest for the young on the way.
Male Brandt's Cormorant (Phalacrocorax penicillatus) displaying on freshly built nest In this species, the male will construct the nest at the beginning of the season out of any available plant matter, and then show off his dance moves to try and draw in a mate to their new summer home.
Brandt’s Cormorants (Phalacrocorax penicillatus) dancing together as they alternate incubating duties. Taking a look at the tender side of a seabird colony, Brandt’s Cormorants frequently engage in their courtship dances and preening on the nest site. There’s something remarkably prehistoric and graceful about the way these birds move. Both parents will incubate the eggs (a typical clutch of 3-6), and tend the chicks together once they hatch.
Sun and surf over the nesting colony on the formidable Southeast Farallon Island, roughly 30-miles out to sea.
Sunset over the field station on Southeast Farallon Island.
A tender nose boop by two California Sea Lions (Zalophus californianus) on Southeast Farallon. This highly intelligent ocean dwelling mammal feeds primarily on fish, shellfish and squid, topping off at swim speeds up to 25 mph in pursuit of its prey. Highly social, these animals have been known to live at least 30 years.
While sighting tags on Northern Elephant Seals (pictured in the back), I saw a group of California Sea Lions (Zalophus californianus) making their way down to the water. Surprisingly agile even on land, they quickly made their way down to the rocky pools that served as the gateway to the open ocean. Farallon Islands National Wildlife Refuge serves as a haven for at least four species of pinniped, a dozen seabird species (who also raise their young on the island), whales in the surrounding waters, an odd arboreal salamander on an island with two trees it does not use, and an endemic species of cave cricket. In an era where the United States currently leads the charge in shrinking public lands, and loss of biodiversity is out of control, it is vitally important that places like these remain protected.
Seabird and seal colonies are special places. During the breeding season entirely full of stimuli, constantly ringing with the vocalizations of their inhabitants, life and death in the same frame, and if you’re a human visitor the knowledge that hundreds of thousands of creatures are watching your movements. Continuing the series of California Sea Lions (Zalophus californianus) from Southeast Farallon, this curious fellow came over to have a look at me while I was sighting tagged Northern Elephant Seals.
Common Murre (Uria aalge) among the Farallon Weed. At the beginning of the field season on the Farallons, when everything was green and the Farallon weed was in full bloom, I enjoyed watching the birds gather among the rocks by the hundreds of thousands at the top of an underwater mountain. Previously they had almost been removed from the islands because egg harvesting (or egging) was so heavy, as Murre eggs were highly sought after. Now it’s difficult to imagine the islands in summer without the clamor of Murre conversation.
Common Murres (Uria aalge) calling in the colony. Murres call nearly constantly in their colony of over 500,000, remaining in contact with one another. Packed in even more tightly than the gulls, these puffin relatives form a sea of black and white across the guano spattered rocks.
Common Murre (Urea aalge) in the morning light on Southeast Farallon.