Goodbye Utqiaġvik

Gorillas  Long-tailed Ducks in the mist

Today was my last in Utqiaġvik. This afternoon we'll all fly down to Anchorage, then tonight several of us will stay there and will fly home the following morning. Meanwhile, this is my last chance to enjoy being Claire of the Arctic© , see more wildlife and perhaps even a Wagtail that might have flown in overnight. 

One of the first places we hit however wasn't a pond full of birds. We returned to the Inupiat Cultural Center. George, and myself, wanted to buy hand carved figurines from James, one of the local Inupiat artisans there. 

Massive room at the center where art happens

Artist James on the left, Richard and George

This was our last visit with James to pay him deposits and finalize what he was going to make and then ship. I commissioned a King, Steller's and Spectacled Eiders, to celebrate my lifers. 

When we were done I got a photo of the Snowy Owl that James cared from a vertebrate bone and uses as a hood ornament on artist James' truck. 
                  

Being our last day in Utqiaġvik, after our visit to the art center we raced out to see if there were any birdies we missed. 

Pair of Sandhill Cranes

Spectacled Eider behind a Greater 
White-fronted Goose

The last viewing of a bright, crayon-headed King Eider

At last we gave up the birding to race back to the King Eider Inn, to grab our luggage and head to the airport.

The 'Gang of Birders' in the airport, 
 chatting while waiting for our jet to arrive

The last view of the Airport 

For no good reason here is nearly 3 minutes of driving around town in Utqiaġvik. This town, full of 1st Nation Inupiats and various business interests from the lower 48 has a harsh environment. Weather here is too gawdawful for primping of landscaping with flowers or even the most modest vegetable garden. People who fuss about the culling of the area's wildlife for food by the Inupiats are are clueless. It is impossible to grow enough veggies here to keep body and soul together. Add to that, the price of veggies at the local grocery store isn't for the weak of heart or wallet. All the veggies (among a zillion other necessities) must be flown, or barge shipped in. So a video bonus here is listening to Rich telling us about his wife's reaction to grocery shopping when they were in Nome, another off the beaten path area of Alaska.  Ask yourself, how much you might be willing to pay for a tin of cocktail fruit to brighten up your meal. 

Ukpiaġvik and Beyond

 

Today we started birding at the edge of town, in the once-upon-a-town, Ukpiaġvik, which is Inupiat for 'the place where we hunt Snowy Owls'. Just today, on this spot today Snowy Owls were absent, unless counting the giant beauty on the huge sign above. The ancient village site is next to the ocean and we crossed a wooden boardwalk, out over to bluffs to to look out over the iced-over, therefore, unviewable sea. 

Long ago, the prehistoric village was dotted with homes of thick earth walls, set into the ground. They looked like yurts (bottom center-ish on the photo above) with elongated entryways. The homes had low entrances to help keep cold air at bay. The people there heated their homes with whale oil, and yes, those brave hunters back then hunted the gigantic bowhead whales, and their descendants today continue to do so. 

The wooden boardwalk

At the bluffs, but looking back towards the town

                    

There were not a lot of birds present today, but there were some flitting about.

White-rumped Sandpiper, pecking around for insects

   Lapland Longspur in similar pursuit.

The view from the bluffs almost confusing. I mean, you can see plenty of snow, but where is the ocean exactly? It's under the massive stretches of slowly melting snow.

Where is the ocean exactly?

Close up of a newly melting spot of snow bound ocean by the shore. 

Next we drove off to the hinterlands. Richard driving carefully along while the other 4 of us had our eyes peeled for whatever 'cool' birds we could spot. 

Pectoral Sandpiper, named for its breast striping

skittering Amercan Golden-Plover

Molting American Golden Plover

One Plover was molting, and showed an interesting and artistic pattern on its face. 

Montezuma Quail

We all thought it might really be a Montezuma Quail, though we are a tad north of the quail's New Mexico habitat. 

Richard told us on his every spring visit to Ukpiaġvik, a different bird species is the most numerous. One year sepia tinted Long-tailed ducks might be sparse, the next year they might be everywhere, every time you turn around. 

Lovely male (rear) and female (in front), Long-tailed ducks

This year's super numerous species is Red Phalarope, many circling like tops in every puddle. Next year? Ostriches? Uh... maybe not. 

Sally spotted something different - a Ruddy Turnstone, racing about down from another bluff we drove along. The turnstone - assuming it was a turnstone - then promptly vanished, causing Sally to suspect she'd hallucinated (as we all assume when stupid birds are here one second and gone the next. Luckily, by a miracle the bird raced in front of my camera's viewfinder, so I got shots.  Shortly thereafter, several Ruddys popped up, and we were delighted to add a new species to our trip list. 

Ruddy Turnstone, which is also not a Montezuma Quail

(not my photo)

After assuring ourselves we'd located & recorded every single feathered neighbor of the Ruddy Turnstone, loons, gulls, ducks and all, we drove over to a mining area with an enormous mini-lake. There we spotted a lovely flotilla of yesterday's lifer Stellar Eiders. The females are rather drab brown, but the males have a wonderful lime icee pompom on the backs of their noggins. 

Flotilla of Steller's

But today's goal is to find our final 'lifer' Eider,  We drove along a road where an 'informant' (not CIA,  a trip leader in a van) told us we should find our target bird. The road was a semi-dreadful Ukpiaġvik  road, and Rich told us to hold onto our seats as he sped through an obstacle course of puddles. Uh... no. The mini-van we were in didn't have 4 wheel drive, this being Ukpiaġvik, not Palm Springs. I was already sitting quietly in the car, telling myself a beautiful lie, that life would go on as normal if I didn't get to see a Spectacled Eider on this trip. Woe is me, right? Just then, Rich stopped, calling there was a duck or something on the road up ahead. HOLY MOSES PACKING A SIBLEY GUIDE!

Lifer Spectacled Eider stopping to stare at us mid road crossing!

The incredible, marmalade-billed, lime green with a blot of vanilla sherbet headed eider, was waddling north on the road, headed for a little pond. Behind him, in quite a hurry, raced Mrs. Spectacled Eider. 

The Mrs. was cryptically feathered, difficult to see against the dried grasses.

Both finally arrived at the little pond right around the time we were all done high-fiving and trying not to shout with birder's 'GOT THE LIFER!'  relief. 

Having a swim in their private ice pond

Huzzah! It's wonderful getting to see all three of the Eiders I hoped to see. Such bizarre birds in their feathering. Look at that drake below. Doesn't he look like he got a bit plastered, then fell asleep at a frat party? The next day, waking to the sound of his buddies laughing, the poor sod must have peered down into the water, and saw THAT face, someone must have stenciled on him with a Sharpie.

"If I ever catch the bozo that did this to me..."

Out & About in Utqiaġvik

Iļsaġvik College's 'yard art'

Hedwig... the Snowy Owl

It was 31 degrees when we headed out today, flakes of snow floating into the van anytime one of us was silly enough to open a window. Rich drove us toward the coast where we'd spotted the Snowy Owl yesterday. We were rolling along graveled roads when my birding mojo made an appearance. Up ahead of the van I spotted a massive white bird flying low over a snow bank.  

Hurrah! No having to tramp over muddy hillsides today! We had only to get out the van and peer through Rich's spotting scope for nice views of the spotty female Snowy.  The Snowy we spotted by the snow fencing had been white, therefore a male. Hum... we wondered... too bad the owls don't have access to Tinder for dating purposes. 

Parasitic Jaeger

We stopped to watch a Jaeger, a type of large feisty gull-of-a-sort, in flight. This photo shows the a fair bit of the coloring with the dark head and pale neck. 

The photo on the right shows pointed feathers sticking out of the middle of the tail's end. That pointy bit
IDs the bird as a Parasitic Jaeger. Jaegers, the name is German for 'Hunter', are bird bullies. They harass and  steal fish from other birds. They also occasionally give a go at catching other small birds to eat.  Proof of such, we watched the Jaeger take off after a tiny shorebird. But the shorebird was no dummy. It swerved, and swooped low, then suddenly the tiny bird, shot right between myself and one of the guys, right about our knee level. There was only a couple of feet between us so at the speed it was going I was stunned it could fly so accurately on such short notice. Meanwhile, the Jaeger didn't think it could make it though such a tight space, and by the time it swooped to the side to miss us, it's quarry, the tiny shorebird was long gone. Magnificent flying skill from the peep, and a cheap thrill for its human audience.

Midmorning, some of us needed a bathroom, so Rick drove us over to Iļsaġvik College, which serves 1st Nation students. The building, for me at least, was chock full of cool stuff to look at. 

I liked everything from its occasional bit of splashy, seal laiden wall paper.

And it's Iñupiaq Corner with loads of new words to learn and a preview of seasonal changes to look forward to.





A cool spreadsheet artfully displaying a bright future for Iļsaġvik graduates and their community.

And yeah, I was even taken with the lady's room, because I thought it was forward thinking and cool that they had freely available lady's particulars at hand. How cool is that?

Post Uni, a van of birders stopped to let us know a Polar Bear sow with 2 cubs was seen at a pile of Bowhead Whale fat that was left out on the frozen over ocean. Hopes are high that maybe we'll visit the spot and get a look at Polar Bears. 

Great suggestion, but sadly, the Mom Polar Bear wasn't there as she had to take her cubs to a Soccer game: final score - Cubs 10, Birders 0.  

The Chukchi Sea - frozen over

The lovely dinner of Bowhead Whale blubber,
awaiting the dining pleasure of Polar Bears. Yum!

Around noon we picked up our lunches at at the midtown giant store. We ate at the Inn and afterwards it was decided an afternoon siesta would do us all good. No argument from me!

I was snoozing away in  my room when Rich knocked at the door. The Van Man had popped by, telling Rich there was a treat species out there for us to discover. 

We had lunch, after which we visited the Iñupiat Cultural Center.

A full size Bowhead Whale model - commonly hunted by Utqiaġvik's 1st nation people - swims down the hall of the Center. 

Also vying for attention, a Polar Bear greeted visitors at the entryway.

UPDATE: That's as close as I got to a Polar Bear on this trip. : (