Frigates and Blue-Footed Boobies

What is this thing? The First Mate is entranced by these large graceful black birds flying overhead. She has never seen the likes of them. With their V-shaped, swept-back wings and their split tails, they look like prehistoric pterodactyls to her. The Mexicans call them tijeretas or Scissor Tails. Commonly, they are called frigates. They appear to be sea birds, but she seldom sees them venturing near the surface of the water. When they do, it is with a quick swoop down to the water followed by what looks like a quick jab of its beak to nab a surface fish. They do not do this at all as frequently as say a pelican does and having never seen a successful catch, she wonders how they sustain themselves. It is a mystery to her. They never alight on the water. Instead, they spend lazy hours majestically circling high with those amazing wings outspread as they ride the thermals.

The guidebooks tell little about the birds to satisfy her curiosity, but they do mention that they have a breeding ground on a small, volcanic island called Isla Isabela. This she must see. On the trip south to Puerto Vallarta last January, she tried to talk The Captain into a stop, but the timing was not right. They passed it in the middle of the night and during a period of high winds and tossing seas. Isla Isabela is a fair weather anchorage only, and this was not fair weather. Now on the trip north to the Sea of Cortez, she is determined that they will stop, and The Captain agrees.

Thirty years ago, Jacques Cousteau came to this wild, uninhabited island to do a National Geographic film series on the rare frigate nests that abound on the island. He was drawn not only by the frigates, but by the blue-footed boobies that also nest on the island and by the pristine underwater reefs created by the volcanic overflow. Today the island is a National Wildlife Preserve. The First Mate is not drawn by the underwater world, but frigates and blue-footed boobies are like magnets to her. A blue-footed booby? A real one! She thought one had to go to Galapagos to see one of them, but here they are in Mexico. We are not going to pass up this opportunity even if we have to wait a week for a calm weather window!

On Thursday, April 2nd, we leave Chacala and head across 50 nm to Isla Isabela. The weather is forecast to be calm or at least calm enough for us to anchor and spend the night.

This is not an iceberg having miraculously made it all the way south to Mexico. It is Roca Blanca, a guano-covered rock we pass on our way to Isla Isabela.

In mid-afternoon, winds freshen to 15 knots enabling a great sail, and we tack almost all the way into our anchorage. As we approach the bay, we are hailed from Lovely Rita by Deb and John Dye, a couple we had first met in Monzanilla Bay last February. Sitting at anchor savoring the late afternoon, they tell us that they are enjoying the sight of Avante beautifully sailing toward them. (The First Mate was at the helm, and let me tell you …. Sailors, especially lowly First Mates, just love to hear such comments!)

We anchor just below Las Monas, eye-catching guano-covered monoliths jutting out of the water.

Overhead, frigates are putting on quite a flying show.

It is too late to head over to the island. Instead we launch the dinghy to does some exploration by water. We motor over to talk with the Dyes and then cruise around Las Monas enjoying the light of the setting sun on the rocks and the birds getting in the last of their day’s flying before settling in for the night.

Centuries of guano paint the rocks white.

These impressive monoliths are worth the trip to the island alone.

Every angle creates a different view. As one would look for images in cloud patterns, The First Mate does so with the rocks. Here we see a medieval fire-breathing dragon folding its wings as it settles in for the night.

In the morning, we set out for the island. There is a small camp of local fishermen near where one is supposed to land one’s dinghy in order to connect with the hiking trail that takes one to the nesting area. Feeling like intruders, we pull The Dingbat ashore, smile, say “Buenos Dios”, and tromp behind their huts to the start of the trail. The trail started out in much better condition than we had expected, but soon deteriorated. We are eager to see the nesting areas of both the frigates and the blue-footed boobies. Looking up, we are surprised to find ourselves just about eyeball to eyeball with fluffy headed frigate nestlings.

Frigates build their nests in low, multi-branched, scrubby trees. Some nests are no more than 5’ off the ground. The First Mate is amazed. These graceful, high-flying birds tangle up in branches to nest. In fact, they are so bunched together and so enmeshed in the branches that it is hard to get a clear photo of them. The nest itself looks like an uncomfortable jumble of sticks, hardly something in which a proud parent would appear to want to spawn offspring, but breed they do. We saw fledglings at all stages of growth from newly born to white-headed youngsters as big as their parents, but what we did not see was parents flying to and from with feed for their fast-growing kids. How these babies get fed and what they get fed is a mystery to us, and something The First Mate intends to research as soon as she is able to do so.

This little fellow must have fallen out of his nest, a feat that is probably not that difficult given the haphazard condition of the nests. The older ones appear to leave the nest and just hang out on a branch waiting for a feeding parent to return.

Male frigates can be identified by a bright red neck pouch which they inflate to attract the female.

Continuing upward above the nesting area, we reach the volcanic rim of the island. The view of the rock formations, the sparkling blue water and the graceful birds is fantastic.

It is here that The First Mate sees her first booby, but it is a brown booby, not a blue-footed one. We now know the identity of the birds that have twice gotten caught in our fishing lure! Note the pinkish brown feet.

We next circle down to an inland crater lake and on up to the area of the island where the blue-footed boobies have staked their claim. Walking into a shady wooded area, we find ourselves surrounded by blue-footed boobies! Blue feet – they really have blue feet! Up until then, The First Mate really was not totally convinced, but seeing is believing. They really have very pretty blue feet!

These quaintly attractive birds have white chests, dark wings and brown and white feathered heads as well as webbed blue feet. Their perfectly round eyes are almost as striking as those feet. White bull’s eye circles with black dots, they stare out unblinkingly as if in wide-open amazement. To The First Mate, they look like they know they have been caught doing something wrong, but are hoping that if they just stare back innocently, nobody will say anything. The First Mate wonders if they ever blink. Don’t they get sand in their eyes once in a while?

The chicks appear quite helpless at first, but quickly grow as big as or bigger than their parents. The First Mate feels sympathy for the parents charged with the task of feeding the hungry mouths of their offspring.

If the low height and shoddy nest-building skills of the frigates surprised The First Mate, she is astounded at the choice of nesting sites the blue-footed boobies have picked. Except for a few who have nestled down in the woods, most are out on the beach, totally exposed and open to whatever comes along be it weather-related as in wind or angry sea or animal-related as in predator. And, where are the nests? They do not appear to build nests at all. Just any old circle in the sand or dirt seems to work fine. Squat down, lay an egg and sit on it until it hatches. Keep the kid warm until it can stand up on its own, and then it just seems to hang around the general area where it was born waiting to be fed.

A whitewash of guano serves to locate most nests. This poor adult looks a bit overwhelmed by the two hungry mouths it has to feed, and in a short time they will be as big as he is! He looks endearingly comical to The First Mate.

Another feature about the blue-footed boobies that amazes The First Mate is how utterly non-combative they are. Yes, they squawk if they feel one is getting too near, but they squawk while backing up. They never attack. Their beaks are pointed enough to do damage; yet we freely walk through their area, stepping over and around their nests. Try that with a seagull. They attack from the air in crazed bombing runs. The First Mate has experienced that!

Here, too, we are puzzled by what these birds eat, how they catch it and how/when do they feed their young. With their webbed feet, these are obviously water birds. Do they eat fish, crabs and other sea critters? How do they catch them? Not a one takes to the air as we walk unimpeded thru their turf. Unless we have mistaken them for seagulls, we have never seen one flying around Avante. Here is another mystery that The First Mate will research when on land.

It does not take further research, however, for The First Mate to understand why this island with its frigates and blue-footed boobies is so rare and why these nesting areas need to be protected. In all honesty, she is quite amazed that these birds have survived this long thru all the millennia. How many places could these birds have found in this world where they could build their clumsy nests low in trees or right on the ground out in the open and not be attacked? How many places are there that do not have egg-eating snakes, lizards or four-footed clawing, sharp-toothed predators? Any other place but an isolated island, and these guys would have been part of the food chain and probably long ago extinct. Gone -- not by mankind’s unthinking, uncaring stupidity and greed, but from their own genetic pre-disposition to poorly planned nesting choices. Frigates may be majestic, elegant flyers and blue-footed boobies may be quaintly irresistible, but Mother Nature sure neglected a few basic survival instincts when she created them. To their credit, they did find places where they could survive. Now it is our responsibility to make sure these few isolated, uninhabited places remain that way so these rare ones can survive.

Both The Captain and The First Mate so enjoyed the island walk and visit with its unique inhabitants that we plan to return on our trip south to Puerto Vallarta in May, but right now we have to make what is called the “Southern Crossing”. We have 250nm miles ahead of us to traverse the Sea of Cortez from Isla Isabela northwest to La Paz on the Baja peninsula. We return to Avante stopping by Lovely Rita to say good-bye, take a swim, secure the hatches, and head out to sea. Our first 2-night solo trek is ahead of us