19 July. Deadhorse.
Yippee, journey’s end, Deadhorse directly ahead, I had made it! True to his word, my guy had picked me up at 6.30 a.m. and here we were, two hours later approaching the end of the road. A lone Musk Ox had welcomed us in, one Rough-legged Hawk too.
Deadhorse is not exactly a conventional birding locality – a semi-industrial complex of storage tanks, pipelines, porta cabins and heavy machinery interspersed by tundra carved out into glacial polygons and pools heaving with birds. Gaggles of geese traipsing along with masses of goslings, phalaropes oblivious to trucks rumbling past and Snow Buntings flitting down from assorted constructions. Oh yes, this is Deadhorse! But would the town reveal the jewel in the crown, the enigmatic Spectacled Eider?
After giving me a quick tour of the town and associated pools, my guy dropped me aside the Sag River, a soft patch of tundra soil the perfect location for my tent. One Red Fox trotting past, a Long-tailed Jaeger cruising overhead, Arctic Ground Squirrels in the embankment adjacent, a quick scan around revealing no sign of the plentiful Grizzly Bears that wander this wilderness, nor (I guess fortunately) Polar Bears that occur from time to time.
With tent up, it was time to begin the search, 12,000 km on the road and just one bird to go. I confess to being a little apprehensive, Spectacled Eiders traditionally depart these waters by early July, most returning to the open seas to moult, the breeders inland on inaccessible pools.
Past the first lake I walked, a pair of Tundra Swans on the far bank, Pacific Loons off to the side, a posse of Red-necked Phaloropes spinning away, and on I wandered. I paused to photograph an obliging Lapland Longspur and, as I did, a car pulled up. A birder! And a British birder at that – Richard Crossley, now based in the US. Well, he’d been in the area for a couple of days, so after pleasantries, the obvious question arose, ‘Any eiders lingering?’ Affirmative was the answer, quite good news. I ventured a second question, ‘Er, any Spectacled Eiders?’ A wry smile, then …another affirmative! Four birds had been on a pool the day before, but a little mobile. I didn’t care – if they were still in the area, I’d stay for however many days it took to find them!
Now this was one kind gent, he offered to drive me to the relevant pool, an offer I wasn’t about to turn down. Five minutes later, we were there. A treat for the eyes, perhaps 80 Red-necked Phalaropes were zipping about, a handful of Semi-palmated Sandpipers and Pectoral Sandpipers on the far bank and quite a number of White-fronted Geese and Pintail gathered too. Parasitic Jaegers zoomed over, Glaucous Gulls roamed with intent. Then a dark duck suddenly floated out into the pool – a lady of the clan to kick off the eider action, one very nice female King Eider. A few minutes later, while still admiring the first bird, round circled four more birds and plopped down aside. Spectacled Eiders!!! Oh yoy yoy, alongside each other, a king and the crown jewels, pretty amazing. No males, they’d long departed for the waters of the Arctic Ocean, but a couple of the females were wonderful ghosts of the males, the head pattern most pronounced. I settled down to see if I could get a photograph or two and, what nice birds they were, they paddled up through a channel and sailed right past me. Couldn’t get much better than that, Greater Roadrunner to Spectacled Eider, trip effectively over.
A stop on a larger pool nearby was also a treat – hordes of Long-tailed Ducks in fine plumage, rafts of Greater Scaups and several hundred White-fronted Geese and Cackling Geese, all trailing goslings by the dozen. In this highly sensitive oil town, security is a constant issue for the guards and it was not long before they spotted us – in town, you tend to get kicked off any site away from the roads, but even on the roads we received ‘special attention’, with luminous jackets offered to ensure the numerous trucks didn’t plough us down and personal traffic cones to set up behind us while birding! Around and about, Snow Buntings feeding fledged youngsters, plus more Lapland Longspurs.
So there it was, a mere few hours in town and I’d seen the main target of my entire trip, the one and only Spectacled Eider. With a smile upon my face, my next appointment was with the airline office – not a masochist for a return trip on the Dalton Highway, a gamble that would almost certainly have left me missing my flight back to Europe, out came my plastic friend and I duly booked a flight back to Anchorage for the next day …a whopping $460, Alaskan Airlines you are a rip off!
With business conducted and the surprise find of another three Spectacled Eiders on a pool next to the airport, I again teamed up with Richard for afternoon activities – an attempt to find Rock Ptarmigan on the tundra a few miles south of town. Didn’t find any, but a corking afternoon and evening it turned out to be. Pleasant sunshine, a riot of Arctic flowers, butterflies fluttering past and wildlife plentiful - Buff-breasted Sandpipers breeding on a gravel island, Stilt Sandpiper in a damp patch, a fantastic herd of Musk Ox gathered on a ridge with a lone Wolf loping along far beyond, highlight after highlight. Also Long-billed Dowitcher, Short-eared Owl and, while studying the fresh tracks of the Musk Ox, very fresh tracks of two other rather big beasties …Wolf and Grizzly Bear.
In the undulating tundra, pockmarked by ditches and channels, a careful eye was kept to avoid any potentially problematic encounters with furry predators, but nothing to mar the day, all critters perfectly behaved. By evening’s end, 10 p.m. and the sun still high (it was never going to set), I retired to my tent and reflected upon my trip, the long journey north certainly had been worthwhile. A Red Fox trotted by again, I presume the same individual as earlier in the day, Arctic Ground Squirrels chirped their alarms, I downed the zipper on my tent, I had earned an early night.