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 Razorbill |
 Murres |
My Trip to Maine–Part 4
by Kathie Lambert
Day 5—June 4—Machias Seal Island, Quoddy Bog, Lubec
Fortunately, it was a good night. Our fears about yapping dogs and beer swilling partiers were unfounded. Munchies for breakfast, then we made the run to Jonesport to catch the boat to Machias Seal Island for nesting seabirds—mainly Puffins, which would be my second life bird of the trip.
We drove around Jonesport trying to find the dock. We happened down a road, found a parking lot and asked a fellow if he knew anything about the tour boats & where to find it. His answer “Park it.” That’s all, just “Park it.” Turns out this rather crusty looking character was the captain. So much for New England hospitality. He’s 50 something, longish salt & pepper hair, beard half way down his pot belly, pants held up with suspenders, and rubber boots. The first mate was equally colorful and could pass for a Marine drill sergeant, and she was a woman. The hit of the trip was the 4 month old Labrador Retriever named Chips Ahoy; it was only his second trip on board and he’s a natural. The trip out was smooth. However, on the water it was very chilly and we were grateful for having lots of layers.
There is no dock at the island, so the next adventure was getting from the boat to the dinghy—interesting for the able bodied and a challenge for anyone else. The really big adventure was getting from the dinghy onto the island. Challenging for the able bodied and damn near impossible for anyone else.
Walking from the boat to the staging area required the carrying of sticks above the head lest the Artic Terns peck the living daylights out of your head—yes, they will draw blood. It’s silly looking but it works. Once at the staging area, we were escorted to blinds where we spent the next hour or so. On the island, the temperature was near 80—a very warm day according to the people who work there. We were taking off as many layers as we could and remain decent.
Puffins were so close we could almost reach out and touch them. Common Murres and Razorbills were the other 2 predominant species. Watching the Puffins take off & land was hysterical—they just aren’t built for flying, much less landing. At one point we heard a thud on the roof and we had no idea what was happening. A few minutes later, we heard little feet running across the roof. At that point we realized that a Puffin had crash landed on the roof, sat there, then waddled across the roof for another take off. The sounds on the colony were interesting. A noise sounding remarkably like a chain saw was the Puffins in their boroughs. The sound of a singing hen was the Razorbills. The Murres were non-breeding adults. Murres breed much further north. This population is unattached or immature birds that don’t have a place on breeding grounds. Also saw Savannah Sparrows, Song Sparrows, a Northern Waterthrush, and some Gannets flying around.
Even in a blind, it’s hard to take pictures of birds. They move when you least expect them to move. You have to wait for them to move into the “perfect” pose, then they manage to move before you hit the shutter. As I was taking pictures, I erased more pictures than I kept. It was the only day I maxed out the memory stick on the camera. Definitely wished I had more memory and some more batteries.
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Razorbill |
Murres |
After a while, the drill sergeant ordered us out of the blinds and onto the dinghy. Seems that the tide was rising and they wanted us off the island before the water was too deep to land the dinghy. Reversed the process back to the boat. Again, not for the feint of heart. As I was getting onto the dinghy, a large wave washed over my feet half way to my knees. Normally, these folks strive for a “no wet feet” trip. Not this time. They were very apologetic; I really didn’t care as I was prepared to get wet.
For birds, it was a good trip—all 4 possible alcids were seen (Puffin, Murre, Razorbill, Black Guillemot). We did a quick trip around the island to see Gray Seals. Spotted a Bald Eagle on the island along with a Raven—how either of them managed to travel that far out to sea is anyone’s guess. The trip back to Jonesport was even smoother. Saw a Wilson’s Storm Petrel on the way back. Picnic lunch in the parking lot.
Quick stop at the motel. Good thing as I had a few minutes to download the pictures from my camera. Naps on the way to Quoddy. Quick stop at Moosehorn NWR. And I do mean quick. The black flies were horrid and we wanted to make a quick exit. We did manage good looks at a Sapsucker & a Golden-crowned Kinglet. Quoddy Head is the eastern most point in the USA. It’s also a park area. There are some great trails overlooking the rocky coastline and a trail to an arctic bog. Along the coast is a rock they call Sail Rock. On it sat several Great Cormorants with a few Double Crested thrown in for comparison. The tidal change is massive; in the hour that we were gone the tide fell several feet. The trail winds through a spruce forest that was covered with moss and lichen to the point that it reminded me of the rainforests in Oregon & Washington only with much smaller trees.
 Sundew |
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 Baked Apple Pie Berry |
 Cotton Grass |
 Pitcher Plant |
The bog was wonderful, but at that late afternoon hour,
there were no birds. Plants were interesting. Pitcher plants were coming up as
were the much smaller Sundew. Lots of white apple blossom things were growing.
They get a berry that tastes remarkably like a baked apple pie (or so I’m told),
hence its name “Baked Apple Pie Berry.” Bog Laurel & Bog Rosemary were just
starting to bloom—these two plants are so much alike it’s only possible to tell
them apart by their leaf configurations. I was lucky to get any pictures. My
batteries were running out and I didn’t have a spare set on me. We made our way
to the
lighthouse
for a photo op. Caught our only bird of the trip—an Alder Flycatcher. As we were
trying to ID the flycatcher (not easy when it’s a pesky Empidonax & it’s
flitting around & not singing) we heard a Ruffed Grouse drumming. We finally
packed up and headed out. As we were going to the road, Herb had to brake
suddenly lest he hit the grouse crossing the road. The grouse quickly
disappeared into the brush. Good way to see a grouse, even if the view was less
than satisfying.
On our way back to Lubec, we stopped at a sandbar that a few hours earlier was under several feet of water. Lots of gulls and shorebirds, nothing remarkable—mostly Herring Gulls & Black-bellied Plovers. Did spot a Bald Eagle being chased by crows.
Dinner at Phinney’s Seafood in Lubec. Good & moderately priced. A bunch of us decided to try a real Maine lobster. With coaching, 4 of us managed to eat our lobsters. It was without a doubt the best lobster I’ve had, but I still prefer Maryland steamed Blue Crabs. Back to the motel without any ventilation. Mom was asleep in nothing flat.
Copyright © 2003 by Kathie Lambert and Richard L. Becker
