A Common Sight and Sound on the Atoll in Winter

**Editor's note, and writer's for that matter: I intended to include video of Laysan and Black-footed Albatross video on this post. Perhaps the file is too large, too lengthy, I am not sure. But unfortunately, after allowing ample time to upload yesterday, the videos just were not happening. I didn't post anything, due to that frustration. This morning, I thought I would atleast pull the writing out of the draft bin. My apologies, the videos are great to give you guys a sense of movement and sound to the albatross' dancing.**

Laysan and Black-footed Albatross don't become of nesting age until around ages 7-9. Studies also show they spend their first 5 years at sea. So those on island that aren't yet nesting walk around the island, practicing nest building, as well as their ritual courtship dancing, looking for that lifetime partner.

The Laysan Albatross certainly has a very active dance. The video-mode on my camera can only pick up partial movement of the mandibles of the rapid bill-clacking visual. These guys are quite the percussionists.The Black-footed Albatross might even be one step better as a percussionist.

The BFAL has a few additions and variations to its dance. It certainly performs more aggresively and loudly.

Ihave been asked if I miss the noise. The word noise has a negative connotation, though the questioners certainly didn't intend so. As far as the sounds, personally I did not find the Wedge-tailed Shearwaters (Puffinus pacificus) ghostly, nearly human moans to be an irritating noise while trying to sleep at night. It was quite an extraordinary experience really.

Wedge-tailed Shearwater pair, light morph, these guys are gone by winter.

The same could be said for the albatross. I didn't find the sound bothersome during the day or at night.One thing I had slight difficulty with was when I was immediately taken away from the atoll. I had heard waves and the tide day and night, every day and night, for 4 entire months. It just was always there, like hearing my pulse in my ears.

There was something comforting in hearing the tides and waves against the seawall outside room windows while I went to sleep.

barracks wing with my room, on bottom left corner

It was a reminder that the world went on, as it always has, even during my slumber. It was the great organism's version of the grandfather clock, the metronome. Nothing revolves around me. It is not dependant on this one short life. I can only help in my small way. I can observe, absorb, and appreciate in a great way. I join hands with others in doing these.

The sudden break away from that comfort caused some tossing and turning during the next few nights of silence. Though at times, I still believe I hear it. I know I still feel it.

-mwyork