Special Report One: Me Albatross
Greetings my friends. Or are you?
They call me the Wanderer and I live mostly on the oceans of the Southern Hemisphere. While my friend the dolphin is the master in the ocean, I rule the sky, the wind and the waves.
The wind is my closest ally, my lifeblood, and he takes me soaring and gliding on vast journeys, Journeys that circle the globe.
I have 14 to 16 cousins within my close family and we are the largest of all sea-birds. Some of us are quite hard to identify because we look so much alike. Soon you will only see some of us in picture-books, because there are so few of us left. You humans on your long ocean journeys will never be graced by our presence or beauty again.
Once a year, we visit certain remote ocean islands to breed and incubate our young. You probably didn’t know, but once I’ve found myself a partner, we are a pair for life. We breed from the age of nine to 10 years, on a two-yearly basis. Incubation of the egg is about 11 weeks. Fledging takes a further nine months.
During this time ashore we usually hang out with all the extended family. Whew, what a crowd! And as you can imagine, there’s one hell of a racket with the new chicks about and all of the “goss” to catch up on.
I actually prefer to be at sea. If there are wind and swells to assist my takeoff and flight (big wings can sometimes be a bit of a drag), I’m in me element. If not, however, I’m quite content to roost on the water and bide my time.
When and what do I eat? Well, I used to eat a lot of everything - fish, squid and even a few morsels from yachts and ships. In days gone by, the oceans provided a wonderful smorgasbord of all sorts of fare - plenty of it too. Sadly, though, those days are gone. These days it’s hard to find a decent feed for yourself, let alone your mate and young.
Now that most of my traditional feeding grounds have been overfished, I’m increasingly reduced to scavenging. I follow ships and yachts whenever I see them, hoping for a tasty morsel or two. The ocean feast of old has definitely become a famine.
These days, you have to be careful too. The neighbourhood has degenerated. If you are not careful, and if your hunger gets the better of you, recklessness can cost you dearly. What appear to be tasty morsels can in fact be the bait - and you’ve got a gob full of a large, barbed hook. The result - death “by natural causes” (a terrible way to go). I’ve lost too many of my family, relative and friends in this fashion.
At my age (I’ll soon be 50), I’ve seen it all and they’re not going to get me. I do my best to spread the word too. Every time a bunch of us get together on the water – family and friends – when there’s not enough wind to fly or there’s too much wind to fly, I pass on my experiences. I want them to reach my grand old age too.
I have to be particularly outspoken and forceful with the juveniles, who are so young and feisty. Too many of them go out and learn the hard way, however, and wind up drowned, hanging on the end of a fishing line.
As you will have gathered, I’m a grandad now, as old as lots of humans, and I spend a lot of time thinking about the good old days in the Southern Ocean.
I don’t often see my old friends the whales any more. They are having it just as hard as we are and some branches of their family are all but extinct. Can’t believe they are still hunting them. Why can’t they leave them alone? They don’t need him in this day and age, except to wonder at his size, power and grace when plying his natural element. I remember the grand banquets as we picked over the left-overs at his feasts. I’m ashamed to admit, though, that I also fed on his remains at times of hunger during his slaughter.
Today, as I fly with the strong winds to the east, I see and am attracted to a strange-looking vessel close by. Like me, it is using “wings” to travel on the wind. My mates have told me about this vessel. It is very different - could almost have been in that movie Mad Max, or Waterworld. Its name, I see, is Seamaster.
There are people in yellow suits on board. Waving and beckoning me to go over. I go, because I have heard on the grapevine that these people and this boat are on a mission. They are trying to help me and my friends. Trying to save the whales too, as well as working to stop people polluting and exploiting our back yard. The word is that, like me, they reckon that education is the key.
I give them a bit of a show - you know, wheelies and the like. I’ve still got what it takes and can teach those young ‘uns a thing or two about water-hugging flight with one wing-tip brushing the waves. As I soar close by to Seamaster, at eye level, they wave again and try to talk my language. Silly buggers. I understand a lot more than they appreciate. They don’t have to go making fools of themselves.
Still, they are our friends and that’s something these days. They toss a few morsels so I glide to roost and feed, knowing it is safe for a stopover.
In those yellow suits, they remind me a bit of my bigger penguin mates.
I think I’ll stay awhile and guide these new friends through my waters. Hopefully they will succeed in their endeavours to make the world understand that all is not as it should be down here in the south. I hear it’s not too good elsewhere either.
We don’t want much - just our neighbourhood back to the way it once was. There we can get on with our lives, happy to co-exist with everyone - humans too, despite everything they have done to us.
Ollie Olphert.
Sir Peter Blake
"Having vision is not enough. Change comes through realising the vision and turning it into a reality. It is easy to espouse worthy goals, values and policies; the hard part is implementation."
Learn about Sir Peter Blake and his journeys around the globe
