What a week! It only rained twice — once for three days, once for four. The fog rolled into Stonington on Saturday, and it’s probably still there. It looked like my second attempt this year to visit the Atlantic puffin colony on Seal Island would be as futile as the first.
I’ve had a lot of experience with canceled boat trips to offshore islands. I can read a weather map and see trouble coming. Seal Island is about 17 miles out to sea from Stonington, and the forecast called for thick fog, strong southerly winds, four-foot seas and a likely chance of thunderstorms.
I doubted we would go.
Slowly, the offshore forecast improved — not a lot, but maybe enough. The wind stayed up overnight but slackened by dawn. Late Sunday morning, the rain stopped, temporarily, with only showers predicted through evening. Otter, the Isle au Haut ferry, was quite capable of navigating in diminishing three-foot swells. Hope returned. So did the fog.
Up to this point, failure has become routine this summer. I had plans to visit Seal Island on the same boat during the Wings, Waves and Woods Birding Festival. Canceled. I was scheduled for a visit to Machias Seal Island during the Down East Spring Birding Festival a week later. Canceled. Then I was set to visit Petit Manan onboard Bar Harbor Whale Watch during the Acadia Birding Festival. Canceled.
By the time of our 1 p.m. departure last Sunday, the Seal Island trip was a go. It was still foggy, but I had reason for optimism.
First, there are different kinds of fog. When warm air comes off the land and hits cold water, the fog can get impossibly thick. But when warm southerly air is blowing over the ocean, the fog is often thinner. Also, a south wind meant that we would be in the lee of the mile-long island.
The water would be calm while we were watching the birds. Furthermore, I knew that the puffins would be buzzing all around us, as well as just sitting on the water close by. This was going to be a good trip.
Every trip is different. The first surprise hit just as the boat left the dock. A Wilson’s storm-petrel flashed by the rail, then another, then many more. These tiny birds nest off the coast of Argentina and Antarctica. When it’s winter down there, many come up here during Maine’s summer. They’re seen regularly out in the Gulf of Maine, but they rarely swarm close to town. Yet here they were, right in the harbor among the anchored lobster boats.
The puffins were plentiful but quiet around Seal Island. We were likely seeing only half of the population. Males and females share egg-sitting duties, which takes place underground in burrows. Until the young hatch, puffins spend a lot of time loafing. None were carrying food yet.
On the other hand, lots of terns were carrying food. There are roughly 2,500 pairs of common and Arctic terns on the island, and it was easy to see where they were in their nesting cycle. Nestlings are vulnerable to predation by gulls, and the chicks are small enough right now that the adults treat any intruder as a mortal enemy. Whenever a herring gull got too close, a thousand terns screamed into the air to chase it off.
Another surprise: a black-legged kittiwake sat among the terns on one ledge. This dainty, medium-sized gull nests colonially on Canadian islands, and is seen regularly in the passage between Eastport and Campobello. However, kittiwakes don’t venture far south, and this is the first I’ve seen on Seal Island.
There are five puffin islands along the Maine coast and a dozen tour boats visiting them. Two islands offer the most convenient viewing. I’ve lost count on how many times I’ve been to Seal Island with Isle au Haut Ferry, and I recommend them highly. They only visit the island once or twice a week, though, so plan ahead.
Several companies visit Petit Manan daily. Acadia Puffin Cruise departs from Steuben, and it’s only a 25-minute hop to the island. In the height of summer, they can manage up to three tours per day. It’s worth a try on short notice. Other boats motor over from Bar Harbor. I’ve done Bar Harbor Whale Watch a bunch.
Each island, boat, and trip is different, but one thing is constant. The puffins start leaving in mid-August. You’ve got six weeks remaining to get out there.
