Winter expedition to Great Duck Island, Maine

I recently returned from a winter expedition on January 22nd, crossing the south sea of Mount Desert Island to reach the under-explored winter lands of Great Duck Island. If I understood correctly, there have been very few trips exploring the winter world of the island in the last 40 years—and a lot has changed since then.

Great Duck Island

Great Duck Island (GDI) is an island about 90 hectares in size (~220 acres), about 9 km south of Mount Desert Island. It is just south of Little Duck Island (See the tab above for more info about LDI). The island is mostly owned by the Nature Conservancy. College of the Atlantic owns 12 acres, including the south tip of the island, where a lighthouse stands. In 1986 the lighthouse became automated, so there was no longer a need for permanent residents on the island. Now, most visits are made to the island in the summer season, often to study the nesting seabirds of the island.

Besides the reduced human presence on the island in the last 25 or so years, Bald eagles have been on the rise. There is anecdotal evidence that the increasing number of eagles—some of which may be nesting on GDI—is negatively affecting the nesting seabird populations of regional islands.

We departed Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island at 9:45AM. The air was cool, hovering between 5 and 10 Fahrenheit, but the sun was strong and the wind was calm. The team consisted of several students, and professors Matt Drennan, Scott Swann, John Anderson, and Toby Stephenson—captain of our faithful boat Indigo.

Leaving Mount Desert Island in the background...

On the 40 minute trip it took us to get near GDI, we already began to see some of the wonders of winter birds. Great Cormorants are few and far between in the summer months, but this winter trip made them seem quite common. Several other northern species exhibit the same pattern as their winter range extends southward. But we also saw many Common loons and Long-tailed ducks.

Great cormorants on Little Duck Island (Photo: Lindsey Nielsen)

Long-tailed ducks (Photo: Lindsey Nielsen)

Finally we found a quiet spot where Matt Drennan drove a small inflatable to a cobbley beach otherwise known as Blondie Bay on the west side of GDI. He made a few trips until everyone except Captain Toby was ashore. It was actually one of the calmest landings I’ve ever experienced on GDI, especially interesting given that winter tends to be the rougher season. 

We began our hike to the south end of the island by first stumbling across a set of mammal tracks in the thin snow. Epiphany followed question as we realized that the tracks were of course just one of the many European varying hares found on GDI—likely introduced in the early 20^th century. As we entered the forest we were greeted by the thin squeaks of Golden-crowned kinglets from the canopy and the trilling chimes of White-winged crossbills.

Along the way we also came across a fascinating trail of lopes and slides of none other than a River otter. Its trail took us to a relatively recent kill site where the otter and some scavenging crows had eaten some type of seabird.

River otter tracks and slide, next to hare tracks on the left

Otter track

Raven track?

European varying hare trail

Lighthouse and old generator shed at the south end of the island

Exploring with binocular eyes...

Finally, we got to the south end of the island where we explored the ocean with our binocular eyes in search for the wonderful winter seabirds. 

The following is a list of the birds we encountered on GDI, from land as well as from the boat circling around the island:

Black scoter (Wikipedia)

- Black scoter

- Common raven

- Surf scoters

- Red-breasted mergansers

- Harlequin Ducks

Common raven
(Photo: Matt Dickinson)

- Black-legged kittiwakes

- Purple sandpipers

- Common eider ducks

- Black guillemots

- Golden Crowned Kinglets

- Common murre

Purple sandpipers (Photo: Lindsey Nielsen)

- Herring Gulls

- American crows

- Great cormorant

- White-winged crossbills

- Black ducks

- male and female Marsh hawks

Black-legged kitiwake (Wikipedia)

- Northern gannet

- European starling

Northern gannet (Wikipedia)

Harlequin duck (Wikipedia)

When we were about to start hiking back to our beached inflatable, one of the students, Lucy, had gone missing. We found her soon afterwards, only to hear her recount the adventure of following a strange set of tracks right to a gray seal and her two, several-week-old pups. The mother seal immediately gave a defensive snarl, sending Lucy running right back to us. This was perhaps the first observation of gray seals breeding on Great Duck Island in a really long time.

Gray seals (Photo: Lindsey Nielsen)

Once back on the Indigo, around 1:30PM, we circled around the west and north sides of Little Duck Island to continue scanning for birds. In addition to many of the birds we saw on GDI, we also saw some Red-necked grebes and two Bald Eagles.

Scanning the west side of Little Duck Island

Finally, as we neared Mount Desert Island on our return, we spotted three Razorbills floating along in the water.

Overall, it was a most wonderful trip.

The Ecology of an Island

I recently finished an updated report of my project on the Flora of Little Duck Island, Maine: An Ecological Study. I am submitting this report to Acadia National Park and the National Audubon Society, so there may be some further edits in the near future.

Here it is if anyone wants to download it. The file is 13.8megs, so just keep that in mind if you have a slow download speed (Right-click and "save as" or just click to open in the browser). The link is from my College of the Atlantic advisor (Chris Petersen's) webpage.

Please send me any comments or questions about it. I would be interested to discuss.

Gratitude for a Wonderful New Year

Here is a wonderful video a dear friend of mine sent me.  It is a great way to start a new day--not to mention a wonderful way to start the new year. Watch it full screen if you can.

Much love to all of my readers, friends, and family.

Curiosity For Curiosity’s Sake…

I have long been curious to learn. My greatest passion is in trying to figure things out. Simply put, I love solving puzzles. Not so much crossword and jigsaw puzzles, although they provide a good analogy. One approach to learning is to understand the pieces so that you can understand the whole. The question is, is my passion for learning good for its own sake? Or is the value of learning only evident in the way that the knowledge is used? Did curiosity really kill the cat? Is there more to it?

I believe curiosity is crucial for our well-being. Let me explain. Curiosity and the need to learn has been with us for the vast majority of our existence. It has been a necessary “tool” for our survival. Think before there was anything like a Google search, or before writing. The only means of accumulating knowledge was by passing it via word of mouth or by learning it for ourselves. There was an obvious evolutionary advantage to learn where edible plants could be found, where the deer are, or where the predator is. Written history goes back only about 5,000 years, but that is a short time considering our approximately 50,000 year existence as humans in our modern form (conservative estimate). Thus my argument is that we are evolutionarily adapted to learning for ourselves and have only recently acclimated to an abundance of knowledge.

I bring this together with my own experiences to extrapolate that our mental, physical, and dare I say spiritual health would greatly benefit from stirring up those “curiosity” genes through experiential learning. Lower down I describe a few activities that I have done with great success.

I found that tapping into this awareness of the world around me has made me a much happier person. No, I haven’t made any huge discoveries to benefit humanity (yet :-) ), but I have discovered that a red fox lives near my house. To me, seeing the fox made me really content in that moment, but also deeply grateful with a fulfilled heart—as if I had just taken a good dose of vitamins for the soul. To those that have never seen an animal in the wild (besides common squirrels, chipmunks, etc.) it is an experience that I can’t explain in words.

Our recent acclimation to knowledge-at-our-fingertips (literally… think Google) has a few side effects. One of them is what Richard Louv coined “nature-deficit disorder.” The symptoms of this disorder include behavioral and physical problems as described in the simple article Parents: 10 Reasons Kids Need Fresh Air by Kevin Coyle. But this is not limited to children. Look at yourself and look at the people around you. So many of us are just walking zombies. We go through a blind whirl each day, doing one thing only so that we can get to the next. Going to work only so that we can go on vacation. Living so that we may one day be able to die happy. But why not be happy and live fully now?

Learning about the wilderness through my own observation and exploration has been a key to helping me feel fully alive and present. I am not a hermit in some cabin miles from “society.” I am in front of my computer, building electrical circuits (yes indeed), and reading about the great inventions of Nikola Tesla. Technology is awesome, but we shouldn’t forget how we humans have lived for the vast majority of our existence. I realized that those vitamins I described above are actually essential for our well-being.

Here are some things you can do:

Learn the basics about your knowledge of place—where you live. Keep in mind that answers to these questions used to be common knowledge even for children. It’s like asking a city kid what the McDonalds "M" means. These are just some questions to get you started, but if you want to see a more comprehensive set, see Jon Young’s Tourist Test, part of his Kamana Naturalist Training Program. As you try some of what I suggest below, use resources such as field guides and the internet to help you out along the way. Because the internet (and even books) can have faulty information, it is imperative to use multiple guides and to talk to knowledgeable people for confirming what you learn—especially if it involves edible or medicinal plants.

• First it’s always good to form a basic awareness of the natural hazards where you live. Poison Ivy? Stinging insects? Disease carrying ticks? Venomous snakes? What are the most poisonous plants in your area? How would you identify these? This is not meant to scare you away from the woods. Once you are aware of the common hazards, you can quickly learn how to avoid them so that you can enjoy the wilderness without worrying. It’s kind of like saying “what’s the worst that can happen?” to help you realize that there isn’t as much to worry about as you might have thought. My questions here are definitely not exhaustive though.
• What can you use to help with some of these hazards? For example, what local plants help with bee stings or poison ivy rashes? How do you prevent yourself from getting a tick disease?
• What three local plant species are easy to identify, abundant, and healthy to include in your diet? Only ever ingest something wild when you are 150% sure you know what it is. There are several edible species that have poisonous look-alikes, so be SURE you are aware of these hazards. There are way fewer poisonous species than edible ones (at least in New England), but it only takes one to get you pretty sick. I only make it sound really scary so that you don't do something silly and then blame me for it. Just use common sense and a lot of resources. You'll be fine.
• What do the tracks of the five most common mammal species in your area look like?
• What are the songs of the ten most common bird species in your area?
• Track some mysteries: Find an animal trail and follow it. Follow the growth of a seedling. Where did the seed come from? What did the land around your house look like 20 years ago? 100? 200? (see Tom Wessel’s Reading the Forested Landscape).

Go to a sit-spot. Find a place not to far from your house, where you can sit quietly and observe nature. If you live in a city, go to a rooftop, or in a park. Try to find a place that is away from other people, but if you can’t, then try not to interact with anyone. Just sit quietly and observe. Find a place not too far from home so that it is easier to go regularly. Although it is good to stick with one spot, find a new place when you are away from home. I’ve found that after quieting your mind and body, the natural flow resumes in about 15 minutes (obviously depending on where you are and how quite you can be). This is how I saw the red fox, and how many natural mysteries have opened up. Going for at least 30 minutes every day for the last year and a half has been by far one of the best ways I have connected to my curiosity for the natural world. Try out the 30 day sit-spot challenge. Here is another link.

Here is a video that nicely summarizes the sit-spot experience.

Leave all your worries at home because while you are at your sitspot nothing else really matters. My sitspot has helped realize that I am just a spec in the history of the universe, giving me a little humor about life.

For curiosity’s sake, and for your well-being, go outside and learn a bit about the natural world where you live. Not too long ago your species had a first hand reliance on it. Tap into your genes. Live fully and stop being a zombie of a person. You’ve got one life, why not live it up?