Seas the Day: Pelagic Magic

“A big, well-mannered bird of friendly, even playful disposition, with an abundant curiosity as to human presence and activities within the realm of open ocean over which he presides.”
— Oregon Fish and Wildlife, describing the black-footed albatross

Seas the Day: Pelagic Magic
August 2025

The morning air was thick with fog, the sky heavy overhead, and the bay water mirror still, reflecting the boats at the marina. About seventeen of us boarded the 43-foot Steller Sunrise for an eight-hour voyage into the open ocean. The Redwood Region Audubon Society offers this monthly pelagic birding trip from Eureka, California.

On board was a crack team of expert birders who could—at the faintest hint of a shadow—identify a host of pelagic birds. Sometimes they called out names for birds I couldn’t even see, let alone identify.

True to form, many were eager to add to their Life List (the record of all species personally identified). One man had traveled from Tennessee to expand his sightings. A pelagic trip is a surefire way to add species: most birds seen at sea will never appear inland. These are not your familiar robins and sparrows.

The day’s birding began slowly. The few birds that appeared were amorphous in the mist. Light rain dampened binoculars and cameras, as well as clothing and spirits. Gradually as the fog lifted, the birding picked up, and by day’s end the group had identified forty-five species.

I actually saw only a portion of those, and photographed even fewer. One disappointment was missing the several sightings of a rhinoceros auklet, a bird with a wonderfully odd name and a small horn on its beak.

The moment of greatest excitement for the group came late in the day as we headed home: a Hawaiian petrel. I was sitting contentedly, eating lunch, when it flew past with slender outstretched wings. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to put down my sandwich and lift my camera. As its name indicates, it is a rare visitor and far from home.

My personal “lifers” included the pink-footed shearwater, Buller’s shearwater, ashy storm-petrel, fork-tailed storm-petrel, Sabine’s gull, parasitic jaeger, and of course, the Hawaiian petrel.

Pelagic birds spend most of their lives at sea, coming to land only occasionally to breed. The oceans are their aviary—vast, unique, and largely unseen except by ocean sailors.

We also encountered the two champions of long-distance migration. Second place goes to the sooty shearwater, which travels some 40,000 miles each year between breeding grounds in New Zealand and Chile and feeding areas in the North Pacific. First place belongs to the arctic tern, whose annual journey stretches an astonishing 44,000 to 60,000 miles from pole to pole.

I was especially fond of the black-footed albatross—legendary, graceful, and surprisingly photogenic. It is the only albatross regularly seen along the West Coast of the U.S. Nearly the size of a pelican, it often sits calmly on the water’s surface, patiently allowing itself to be admired and photographed. (No small gift, given the difficulty of taking photos from a boat pitching and rolling in the open sea—waves, wind, birds, boat, camera, me, and sometimes my stomach all in motion at once.)

You may recall the “albatross around your neck” metaphor from Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Albatrosses were traditionally seen as good luck. When, in the poem, the mariner kills one, misfortune follows the ship, and the dead bird is hung around his neck to bring shame and as punishment.
In reality, albatrosses are astonishing creatures. They may spend the first five years of life at sea without ever touching land. They can lock their wings in place to conserve energy, and even sleep while flying—resting one hemisphere of the brain at a time while the other stays alert to movement and direction. (This is called unihemispheric sleep. Dolphins also do this.)

Albatross mate for life, reuniting every two years or so at the same nesting site. Their elaborate courtship dance—comical, synchronized, and tender—reaffirms their bond. You can only appreciate it by watching it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5zzBRM3696g&t=44s.

Over 95% of black-footed albatrosses breed on the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands, where they are called Ka’upu. A pair lays only one egg at a time, and if it fails, they must wait until the following year to try again. These long-lived birds can reach forty years, with the oldest recorded at nearly sixty-one. Their unique tubular noses both filter salt from their systems and give them a superb sense of smell, enabling them to detect prey across vast distances.

Would I go again? Maybe. A pelagic trip can be grueling—hours in a small boat, the ever-present risk of seasickness, harsh wind, soaking spray, blazing sun, bone-deep cold, and the possibility of disappointment. The boat can rock and roll violently with the swells, making simple walking a gymnastic feat. And let’s not talk about the challenge of using the head.

And yet, there are moments of wonder. Glimpses into secret lives. A reminder of the enduring magic of life on Earth.

Please leave a comment so I know you were here.

Subscribe to Carla’s Blog!