Iceland: Foxes, Whales, and Birds

Saturday, 7/27/2019, was the next to last day of this Natural Habitat Adventures Iceland expedition. Our group first walked down to the dock for a body suit fitting, preparation for whale watching later in the day. This "rib boat" would be our vessel.

The suit fitting session.

After we'd picked and adjusted our suits we clambered out of them and boarded a small bus to ride to Súðavik. Along the way we passed three cruise ships departing Ísafjörður.

These ships clearly carried several times more people than the population of the town!

Súðavik, population ~170, was engulfed in an avalanche in January of 1995, killing twelve, and the town site was moved to a safer location.

The old town now contains a few summer houses and a children's playground, a project begun by a Súðavik resident, Vilborg Arnarsdóttir, whose son died in a car crash in 2001. Click on the image to enlarge.

 The playground covers a wide expanse of land,

and is now supported by multiple entities. One section hosts a miniature zipline,

which most of our group tried at least once. Then we exited through the entrance.

From here it was just a one kilometer walk down to the Arctic Fox Center.

The center focuses on fox biology, distribution, and history, plus the strained relationship between foxes and humans.

Arctic foxes come in two color morphs, "white" and "blue." Prowling the shores and open (not snow covered) ground for food, foxes in Iceland are much more likely to be blue morphs than their cousins in the rest of the Arctic.

The center also hosts an orphan male fox, Móri, whose parents were killed in a hunt in 2015. He was rescued along with his sister, who didn't survive. Móri now serves as an ambassador fox. He's a blue morph.

The foxes can be aged post-mortem through their teeth. A 3, 5, or 7 year lifespan is typical in the wild, but a few individuals per 1,000 have lived up to 12 years.

Outside the center was a pair of stilts. Our guides gave them a try.

Another short walk took us to the town dock. There our body suits and the rib boat were waiting for us. I popped a meclazine to be safe.

This was the view from my seat in the boat.

The folks up front catch most of the spray.

We were on the lookout for spouts as the rib boat zoomed. The whale watching started out sparse, but then the humpbacks began to put on a show. I could flood you with whale photos,

but instead I've put together sequences that convey, weakly, the majesty of the flukes as the whale dives to feed.

And ... click on the image to enlarge ...

The pattern of light and dark is different on every whale, just like a fingerprint, and identifying individuals enables researchers to follow the whales' feeding habits, ranges, and so forth.

Floating rafts of puffins, however, paid no attention to the whales.

Then it was time for the rib boat to deposit us on Vigur Island, a privately owned bird sanctuary and popular tourist stop.

 After depositing our body suits we were issued flags on long poles, to ward off dive-bombing arctic terns and other avians offended by human proximity to their nests.

We preceded and were followed by other groups; the organizers must have scheduled visitation slots.

This puffin, fish in beak, was waiting us out, not wanting to reveal the location of his burrow.

Arctic tern and chick.

We took a longer loop avoided by the cruise ship groups, going onto a rugged path and stepping up and down the rocky bluffs for more sightings, including this solitary chick,

and this rock formation that looks like a face.

Now we were on the windward side, and waves crashed into the rocks.

Sometimes we had an audience.

After the walk we enjoyed a snack at the cafe on the south side of the island. Joan and I checked out the display about traditional down processing; first, a sample of the "raw" down of eider ducks collected from nests.

The equipment for cleaning and combing the down.

One more time we had to wriggle into the body suits, and bounced through the swells as the rib boat roared back to Ísafjörður. Joan and I landed both giddy and tired. The next day would be our last full day in Iceland, a land-based tour of remotest spots in the Westfjords.

Rockbridge State Nature Preserve

Needing some fresh air, sunlight, and exercise during this time of stay-at-home and social distancing, on April 3rd Joan and I drove down to the Rockbridge State Nature Preserve. This park wedged between Route 33 and the Hocking River is usually less crowded than the larger attractions deeper in the Hocking Hills area. A trail map is here.

The path started along the boundary between a farm field and wooded areas. This tree on the farm property caught my eye.

After rising a while the trail then descended, and soon the rock bridge came into view. There are a couple of other hikers crossing it in this photo, but we had the trail to ourselves much of the time. Click on the image to enlarge.

The path continued downhill and we lingered to admire the bridge from below. Our wet springtime in Ohio had created small waterfalls and drips, which usually disappear in summer.

The trail continued a short distance to the west bank of the Hocking River, and Joan spotted a soft-shelled turtle on the far bank.

There was also an interesting patch of scouring rush that seemed constrained to never hop over the bridge's outflow creek.

On our way back we took the Rock Shelter spur trail,

and trod the loop that departs from and returns to the Rock Shelter (see the map).

Along our hike Joan and I often stopped for birds and early blooming flowers.

Blood Root.

Hepatica.

Hepatica zoom-in.

White Trout Lily.

Unphotographed were spring beauties, emerging iris foliage, and more. However, on the last boardwalk, close to the parking area, I was able to record a six-spotted tiger beetle.

The trail wasn't that long, but in our meandering and inspecting Joan and I consumed three delightful hours visiting the natural world.

 

Iceland: To Ísafjörður

At home in this time of the coronavirus, it's a good time for me to continue with the blog entries for Iceland.

On July 26th, 2019, our NatHab group flew from Reykjavik to Ísafjörður. That's the easiest way to reach this remote capital of the Westfjords region of Iceland, population 2800 in summer, not counting cruise ships. On arrival we deposited our luggage at the hotel

and met our local guide, a Finnish lad studying at the university here. His name was pronounced "Yoonus" -- I have no idea how to properly spell it.

Then we set out for our excursion boat. Across from the hotel were a vintage Model A (1930) and bakery truck, with Iceland license plates 1 and 2, respectively.

In the central area of town an Australian artist had painted a series of murals on house walls.

Soon we reached our excursion vessel.

We departed from Ísafjörður, crossing over the main fjord to the Jökulfirðir, a major offshoot. This area is just a stone's throw from the Arctic Circle. The green area is the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve.

At first we cruised the fjord and scanned for wildlife. The rarest sighting of the cruise was two arctic fox kits prowling the shoreline. I was glad I brought my binoculars; as you can see from this picture of one of the kits, we dared not approach too closely.

Photo taken from a long way away.

We also saw harbor seals.

A braided waterfall.

We sailed past a guano-coated rock buttress intruding into the fjord.

We could spot fledglings on the rock, especially with our binos.

Then our boat zoomed over to Hesteyri, a village of around 100 that was abandoned in 1952; life without roads or electricity had become too daunting. Many of the old houses are now summer getaways, and the Doctor's House serves snacks and refreshments, of which we partook. Here's a photo of the  house from one side.

From there our group began a hike down towards an abandoned Norwegian whaling station.

For the hardy there are overland trails to explore.

Our group stretched out as individuals paused to admire flowers, bees, and berries.

Orchid!

Approaching the abandoned station. When the Norwegian whalers pulled out in 1915 it was converted to herring processing, but the herring disappeared after 1940 and the village economy evaporated.

We were told the hole in the chimney was the result of NATO aircraft at target practice.

Without a dock, we returned to the excursion boat via inflatable.

On our way back to Ísafjörður we passed a Coast Guard rescue exercise, where the helicopter was practicing locating and then delivering immersed people to the Landhelgisgæslan.

Shot taken through plastic protecting us from sea spray.

After dinner at the hotel Joan and I took a stroll. Fortunately, it was summer, so this warning sign didn't worry us.

A small traveling circus had set up on the outskirts. RVs and campers plastered with stickers from all over Europe were parked nearby.

An Arctic evening-sun skimmed the horizon and peeked from behind the mountains.

Among the various buildings historic, industrial, and administrative was a trilingual memorial to those lost in the sinking of convoy Q13 off Iceland in 1942.

Below the text was an image of the disaster.

Soon it was time to return to the hotel, our room, and a few hours of sleep.