Ol’ Half-a-Horn

Posted on May 26, 2024 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

I almost wasn’t going to show this photo. Despite my nicknaming him Ol’, he’s probably a fully mature but young bull – perhaps in his fourth year. He’s missing his right paddle, and the remaining antler isn’t impressive. In fact, since to be legally taken during Alaska’s moose hunting season the tip to tip, antler to antler spread has to span at least 50 inches (127 cm), he probably wouldn’t have passed muster. So, no Boone and Crockett award here.

But this is easily the closest I’ve ever been to a moose, and when he suddenly emerged -seemingly to simply materialize from a thick tangle of willows, alders and salmonberries, he took our breath away. I had mere seconds to set up and make the shot has he strolled by, appearing unconcerned, barely glancing our way – our own hearts meanwhile racing like mad. Even a young bull such as this weighs close to half-a-ton and although the big ungulates are generally peaceful, mind-your-own-business types, each year here in Alaska more people are injured by moose than by bears. In fact, an Alaska man was stomped to death by a cow protecting her calf less than two weeks ago. So anytime one finds oneself this close to an animal of this size, the thrill involves wildly mixed feelings.

As I mentioned, the moment lasted mere seconds. And then, more miraculously than its sudden appearance, this fellow simply vanished. There was no departing view of dark rump disappearing into the vegetation, no hint of willows and alders shaking as he brushed by them. He crossed before us, I made 12 quick captures, the last of which featuring mainly an eyeball, part of the rack, an ear and his nape… and then he was gone, swallowed without a sound into a thicket of alders. Had we not been exactly where we were during those few seconds, we would never have guessed a moose was nearby.

Chignik Lake, October 4, 2018 – JD

Painted Geese over Breaking Surf

Posted on May 25, 2024 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

With the bright white head and nape reminiscent of the ermine capes European Royals of yore garbed themselves in, Emperor Geese (Anser canagicus) present a striking visage. But to catch a glimpse of these smallish, colorful, somewhat rare birds you have to go to coastal Western Alaska or Eastern Russia. A few dozen sometimes stop over at the sand spit at the mouth of Chignik Lagoon on the Alaska Peninsula. That’s where we found this flock, a few Glaucous-winged Gulls mixed in.

Spring Rain

Posted on May 24, 2024 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

Happy Friday everyone. Barbra and I hope you have an enjoyable Memorial Day Weekend. And take a moment to remember with gratitude…

Tundra Swan with American Wigeon at Broad Pool

Posted on May 23, 2024 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

The best place to look for returning Tundra Swans (Cygnus columbians) on the Chignik is at Broad Pool, about a mile downriver from the village. One evening the swans announce their arrival with far off, lonesome-sounding notes and by morning they’ve settled at the pool. There the slow-moving, weedy water provides food for the swans as well as for migrating dabbling ducks such as Mallards, Green-winged Teal, Northern Pintails and American Wigeons. Diving ducks, mostly Common Goldeneyes, Buffleheads, Greater Scaup and both Common and Red-breasted Mergansers are also likely to be present. At this time, the banks are covered in scraggly, winter-brown grasses, sedges, willows and alders and there may still by ice along the river’s edge. By the end of the month the ice is gone and the swans and most of the ducks will have dispersed to nesting areas further up the drainage, but at least one pair of Mallards and another of wigeons usually stay to nest along along the margins of Broad Pool. They are often joined there by a brood or two of Black Scoters.

Spring Portrait of Love

Posted on May 18, 2024 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

Mated pairs of Sandhill Cranes begin appearing on the Alaska Peninsula in late April, their loud calls trumpeting the arrival of spring. They depart in late summer or early fall. If they’ve been successful, a nearly full-grown offspring accompanies them on their journey back south. *Note the heart-shaped red crown – a distinction that along with the fidelity mated adults show each other makes cranes a symbol of love in many cultures. Chignik Lake, May 4, 2019*

Blue Skies and Sunshine

Posted on May 14, 2024 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

**Brown Bear in Sunshine**
*Paradise Bend, Chignik River, September 24, 2018*

We didn’t get a lot of days like the one depicted above out on the cloudy, windswept Alaska Peninsula. Blue skies reflected in the river, sunshine casting everything it touched in a patina of gold. I hurried through breakfast, donned waders and a camouflage jacked, packed my camera into its soft case and bungee-corded it to the front rack of my honda. Two-and-a-half miles down the Top Road I parked near the boat landing, slung 20 pounds of tripod, camera and long lens over my shoulder and followed a trail to the broad, seldom-visited collection of braided water and islands we called Paradise Bend – the best place on the Chignik to catch morning light. Along the trail there were bear and moose tracks in soft mud, the last Wild Geraniums and Yarrow barely holding onto their purple and white blooms respectively. A snipe exploded from a little swale – late in the year for that species to be hanging around. Curious Black-capped Chickadees called from alder thickets and approached on either side to examine the intruder striding through their world and from the river I could hear the ratchety cry of a kingfisher. Further out gulls squawked and chattered – Glaucous-winged and Short-bills -, and I could just barely hear the soft, murmuring quacks of Mallards and Green-winged Teal. A pair of eagles began piping.

As I reached the bend, the wary ducks rose and repositioned themselves further downriver. There were more bear tracks in the sand along with a set of wolf prints, fresh, probably from the previous night. I waded across a river braid out to an island covered in graywacke, set up in front of small wall of autumn-yellow willows and waited. The morning sun poured over my left shoulder, a light breeze touched my right cheek. Salmon splashed in the channel in front of me as well as in shallows two hundred yards downriver to my left. My eyes were drawn to the sky as I became aware of steady, high-pitched honking growing closer – a pair of Tundra Swans winging south.

What a day. All I needed now was for a bear to come by.

Yellowlegs and Sticklebacks

Posted on May 13, 2024 by Jack & Barbra Donachy

**Greater Yellowlegs with a Nine-Spined Stickleback**
*Chignik Lake, Alaska Peninsula, August 20, 2018*

There are two species of yellowlegs – Greater, the larger of the two species and featuring a proportionately longer bill, and Lesser, the smaller of the two with a proportionately shorter bill. Until you’ve looked at quite a few of these birds, they are difficult to tell apart unless they’re near each other. We never encountered Lessers at The Lake, but from spring through early fall Greaters were common.

Yellowlegs stalk shoreside margins searching for any small fish. A quick stab is usually all it takes before they come up with a stickleback or salmon parr siscorred chopstick style between their bills. Close examination of photographs hints at small serrations in the roof of the upper bill, helpful in repositioning their catch for a head first swallow. Their piercing calls, delivered in sequences of three and four quick, sharp cries, can sound almost like a car alarm. Unlike most shorebirds, yellowlegs often perch at the very tops of trees, a behavior they share with Wandering Tattlers.