November 13, 1996

Little and Big Razorback Islands

Having fallen asleep while working, I was awakened by another strong series of calls through my headphones in the wee hours. The sun was shining brightly through my southerly window, obscuring the image on the video monitor. I logged in another appearance, climbed up on the roof and switched off the generator. It was time for proper sleep. From Little Razorback I looked over to Big Razorback (picture above) and the disposition of both islands suggested to me a subglacial eruption and formation: long, thin and very steep, similar to the fissures and ridges west of the Vatnajökull glacier in Iceland. I wondered whether this was their origin. The seals could still be heard from beneath the ice and I was lulled to a deep sleep.

The day was beautiful--once again, sunny and warm. I headed over for breakfast at seal camp and decided that I should take advantage of the stillness to record mother and pup interactions on the surface. Windless days are not that common. Rob Jensen mentioned that he had heard a lot of activity around the southern tip of the island in slush pools that had developed over the last week. Don, Tom, Rob, Dan and Mike were all going to spend the day obtaining blood samples from the seals around the island for Tom's DNA work. They would also take along several transmitters to attach to any males they found in their travels. Their census work had been going well; it seemed as though the birth rate was a little low for this year. They had identified and tagged nearly 345 pups, compared to 400 in most years past. The population has generally remained pretty stable.

I ventured into the hollows of ice and some slush in the pressure ridge zone facing McMurdo Sound. The hanging valleys and carved features of the Royal Society Mountains could be seen across the ice flats. In the sheltered calm, many Weddell seals were hauled out and there were quite a number of pups alone. I guessed that a few of them were orphans and others were waiting for their mothers to surface. The ice had been polished smooth in some areas by their travel to and from breathing holes. There were deep, tear drop shaped depressions where mothers had stayed for days after giving birth--nursing and resting. Blood, urine and feces coloured the ice. A male, with a badly bleeding set of hind flippers had hauled out some distance from the tidal crack openings. A trail of blood followed him and the skuas picked frozen drops from the snow. In territorial fighting, male Weddells, unlike many other mammals, not only display but attack competing males--often savagely. When giving chase, they will bite at the flippers.

Looking for a sonic "window," I situated myself in the midst of a group of seals, facing the sheer rock face of Big Razorback. The calls reverberated and echoed off the rock--eerie, plaintive moans and brays from pups learning how to swim. Their voices were occasionally muffled by slush and then water as they struggled to haul out. Mothers responded like lowing cattle. All around, snoring and the sounds of respiration were heard as nostrils opened and closed. From beneath the ice, the more powerful calls of swimming animals could be discerned. Skuas cackled and argued and those that flew overhead produced a soft hum as edge tones played from their wings.

Back at seal camp, Tom and Mike had had a good day. We lingered over a long dinner. Mike cooked and we nursed glasses of wine and exchanged stories for several hours. Mike talked about his experiences in South America--having traveled hough Patagonia, Peru, Ecuador, Argentina and Chile. Tom was still concerned that the antenna they had rigged was receiving rather weak signals and not logging all of those males with transmitters who had hauled out on the ice. At about 11:00pm, it was all hands on deck for antenna repair: a length of PVC pipe had been secured from the stock room back at McMurdo and a couple of brooms acted as buttresses. Oh yes, duct tape and u-bolts were added in good measure.

I headed out for the dive hut at Little Razorback at about midnight.

Setting up the antenna on the roof.

Tom Gelatt and Mike Cameron