An Avian Metropolis
Once-in-a-Lifetime Trip to Northwestern Hawaiian Islands Provides Lessons for Nicholas School Students About the Good and Bad Impacts of Human Activities p. 3
The intriguing juxtaposition of wilderness and development found on Midway sets it apart from tourist destinations like Oahu or Maui, says student Stuart Brown.
“It’s not a typical tropical paradise. There are barracks, a bar and dining hall, a bowling alley, a runway, a fire department, and rubble from old buildings all over the place. And everywhere you look, there are birds,” he says. Sitting down in a field of 100,000 albatrosses, watching them perform elaborately choreographed mating dances on the lawn outside the barracks, or hearing their constant calls all night long through the open windows of your bedroom “is a constant reminder of where you are, and why it’s important.”
One of the most isolated specks of sand and coral on Earth, Midway Atoll extends barely five miles from stem to stern. It lies 1,027 nautical miles northeast of Wake Island, its nearest inhabited neighbor; Honolulu, with the nearest major airport, is a five-hour, 1,134-mile charter flight away.
Midway Atoll’s reef-ringed waters are flanked by three low-lying islands on the south. Sand Island, at 1,200 acres, is the largest and most developed of the three. A former U.S. military base, it is home to the atoll’s runway, fire department and visitor facilities, and is the site of a memorial commemorating the historic World War II Battle of Midway, fought offshore.
Sitting a short boat ride away are rugged, windswept Eastern Island, where albatrosses nest at the foot of long-silent cannons, and tiny Spit Island, which nearly disappears at high tide.
Only 65 people inhabit the atoll. All of them live on Sand Island. Most are researchers, Fish and Wildlife Service staff members or Thai nationals hired as contract employees to maintain the island’s runway and buildings and provide essential services, like cooking and cleaning, for the biologists and managers working there.
While human inhabitants are few and far between, the atoll’s bird population makes it a veritable avian metropolis. Earlier this year, biologists counted 440,000 nesting pairs of Laysan albatrosses and 25,000 nesting pairs of black-footed albatrosses on Midway. A large but unknown number of younger birds of both species, not yet paired off and nesting, live there as well, along with a handful of rare short-tailed albatrosses. White terns, fairy terns, petrels, re-introduced Laysan ducks and other birds also call the atoll home.
Non-avian species that can be spotted on the atoll’s beaches or in its sheltered waters include monk seals, green turtles, spinner dolphins and reef fish of nearly every stripe.
During their stay, the Nicholas School contingent spent hours each day touring the atoll and learning about its history, biodiversity and ecological challenges from wildlife biologist John Klavitter, refuge manager Barry Christenson and other Fish and Wildlife Service staff members and conservation volunteers. They banded nesting albatrosses; cleared a field of invasive ironwood saplings; removed fallen trees after a savage storm; and collected dozens of bags of marine debris from Midway’s beaches. In between classes and volunteer work, they found time to snorkel, swim, explore and reflect on their amazing experiences.
“I’ve never had an easier, more compelling teaching experience in my life,” Read says. “We were all learning together.”
Though each day’s lesson was valuable, some hit home harder than others.
photo captions: Albatross; Joanna Bounds, Stuart Brown, Saada Al Harthi, Elia Herman, Stacie Koslovsky, Leah Medley, Beth Pike, Sarah Rider and Laura Wallach ; Midway; Andy Reed.