Ilus Eesti

In Estonia, everything starts to sprout, grow, flower, and smile! I am here to continue my Ph. D. research project, which is focused on the question: why are barnacle geese changing their spring migration strategies?

Transforming from old to young in Estonian spring! - Haapsalu

Before jumping right in the world of geese, I'd like to solve some confusion. Barnacle geese (brandganzen) are NOT brown! They are different than the most common Dutch goose (grauwe gans, greylag goose):

Grauwe gans (Anser anser) en geen brandgans (Branta leucopsis)

Barnacle geese (brandganzen) are black and white like zebras:

Brandgans (Branta leucopsis)

Do not confuse them with burning greylag geese,these are neither brandganzen:

Tricky goose: brandende gans

Barnacle geese are beautiful black and white geese that now stay one month longer in their wintering habitat (Netherlands and other areas) than they used to before the mid 1990s. This is a nuisance for Dutch farmers that earn money with grass, because the longer geese stay, the more damage they cause. Furthermore, the barnacle goose population has grown exponentially since the 1960s.

Barnacle geese in Workum

Barnacle geese at Marken

Barnacle geese at Marken

In Estonia, geese arrive later but leave around the same date as they always did. Many things have changed for geese: they lost natural habitat, they adapted to cultivated grassland, they started breeding at unusual sites, and their old enemy, the white-tailed sea eagle, is spreading its home range to the west. I will investigate how barnacle geese use their habitat  in Estonia. Cutting grass, drying grass, counting poo, and observing geese will be part of the job. I will visit several sites with different characteristics and try to identify patterns from what geese do. What are they afraid of? Why do they feed in some areas, but not in others? 

Without saying too much more, enjoy the photos and stay tuned!

Barnacles flee from white-tailed sea eagle

Barnacles leave for dinner

Barnacle bomb

Cascades

If you wonder what keeps me so quiet all these months, I have an answer for you. I'm thinking. Thinking of how to catch the world and transform it into easy understandable formulas. However, the world is slippery, global and moving at a speed of 107278.87 km/h* around the Sun. So that's why the thinking part takes so long.

 

Our daytrip to Brackendale on Dec 30th was breath-taking

Nevertheless, I have some ideas. They are more concentrated around two kinds of flying objects: eagels and geese. I added a more sessile being to the equation, to make it more interesting. It has to do with my origin too. It's called: eelgrass.

Short eared owl at Boundary Bay

What if we can find that the returning eagle does not only disturb waterfowl in his shadow, but also increases grass growth? What if eagles increase their own foraging opportunities by chasing geese? It may not be its intention, but it happens all the same.

Summer goose, Stanley Park, July 2012

 I see eagles chasing geese all the time, but catching them hardly happens. Can you follow my train of thoughts? Eagles disturb geese from their feeding grounds, enabling eelgrass to restore from constant grazing damage. Denser eelgrass beds will appear, which will offer more hiding places for newborn fish. These fish grow to become large eagle prey, enriching prey availability for eagles.

Eagle taking a break from tourists, Brackendale, December 30th

What is needed to test these thoughts? A model, a tree of chances, or a rake? Can we analyse footsteps by following the tide, and fly over waves with microsatellites? If helicopters disturb feeding geese, can we use these as tools to simulate eagle wings? Disturbance is just a branch on the tree. We need collections of faeces, snails and fish, we gather data of eelgrass and feathers. But all these facts on a pile cannot make our vision clear. We need statistics and algebra, maybe a marinde shifting stable states from biologist to mathematician. Do I hear you laugh? I laugh with you.

Try to analyze the landscape of fear. Estonia, April 2012

Does the same occur on the other side of the Atlantic? I shift through continents in my mind, but going there in a physical state is less economic. Can we reproduce what happens on the other side of the world, without going there? That only makes sense in the mind of a desk-biologist, but I push away that idea completely. We need real observations of life.

These salmon eating eagles don't need to perform a wild goose chase. Brackendale, December 30th

So what’s the effect of eagles on eelgrass?

It sounds like a poem if I am honest. And it makes total sense for a Volendammer to focus on eels, if not on grass.

Snowy owls are back at Boundary Bay. November 2012

*source: http://geography.about.com/od/learnabouttheearth/a/earthspeed.htm

Canadian fall

Colours change while summer is left behind, and living creatures that remain prepare for winter. Leaves I saw emerge this spring are now bathing in muddy dirt like discarded Subway napkins, painting forest trails in brownish orange. 

Food fight! Reifel Bird Sanctuary (Oct 28 2012)

Snow geese travelling from Alaska claim their piece of land while their white feathers get covered by brownish Fraser River soil. Their voices are clear as the blue sky above them, and in the bright sun they are more white than I could imagine after reading all these goose books. We see thousands arrive in formation. Families are easy to distinguish in the crowd, father leading proudly and shouting that everyone should make way. In contrast, red winged blackbirds sing on this beautiful autumn afternoon, making me realize that fall is just converted spring. 

Snow geese above Westham Island, BC (Oct 28 2012)

Arriving salmon changed the weather from warm late summer sunshine into the familiar Vancouver rain. Small streams suddenly became confident rives, offering salmon safe passage to their final life cycle phase. Eagles in adult plumage shriek from revealed bare branches of towering poplars, waiting for salmon souls to shed their skin.

Salmon creek in Port Moody (Oct 20 2012)

The end of a salmon life represents the final days of fall (Nov 10 2012)

Johan and I were granted with the chance to experience the real Canadian life for the last three weeks by watching over someone's house and cat. This house is located in Port Moody, with ocean view from the frontal windows. Every day I walked to the bus I saw multiple salmon in the local creek. As I wrote above, eagles were watching from poplar trees. A bird feeder showed us the diversity of Canadian yard birds, and we saw a squirrel throwing a party on the feeder.

Ocean on our doorstep in Port Moody, with Burnaby Mountain and Simon Fraser University in the back (November 10)

Life as a graduate student and teaching assistant flies past as fast as the seasons change. Joining British Columbian picket lines and job action taught me a lot about unions and solidarity. The union of teachers has been bargaining for a new contract for 2.5 years, but there has not been any progress the last weeks. I hope this whole strike stuff is over soon, and I can just go back to work. 

High tide, Port Moody (November 5 2012)

The first frosty mornings have already given away a glance on the next season: winter is upon us. All we can do is admire. Admire the misty mornings that cover cobwebs in pearls. Enjoy every ray of sunlight we can before the rain takes over again. Marvel about the snowy mountain tops in the distance. Rain in the lower mainland means ski fun on the higher altitudes. Snowy season: here we come!

First snow? (Oct 28 2012)

Changing perspectives

Laat alstublieft een berichtje achter als u graag een Nederlandse vertaling wilt ontvangen.

Never! I always said. I will never become a teacher!

That has changed since the start of this semester.

I am no longer a listening, order following graduate student. Since the start of this semester, I changed my perspective from being taught to teaching. I now am responsible for 40 undergrad students that follow a course in General Biology. Of course I’m no professor, but they call it a teaching assistant, which is a much cheaper version of a teacher ;-) 

One of the amazing parts of this new experience is that since the day that I started teaching, I am also on strike. The Teacher Support Staff Union (TSSU) has been bargaining for better work conditions since 2010. This semester they got seriously engaged. Fortunately, until so far there haven't been any serious strike actions. I'll see how it goes!

Fall leaf colours on the frontier of Stanley Park, Vancouver (Sept 23, 2012)

View from my office (Oct 9th 2012)

 In this general biology course, students learn about the different life cycles of fungi, plants and animals, and learn to unravel Earth’s history by examining fossils and living organisms, from protists, ferns and starfish until whole forests. My tasks exist of giving tutorials and assisting labs.

Canadian forests are great for teaching students about ecological interactions! (Oct 6th 2012)

It’s exciting to go through lecture material that I had to learn myself during my undergrad in Utrecht. The same life cycles, the same protists, but on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Soon the students and I will venture into the world of genetics. I remember it as a challenge to understand pedigree trees with cat fur colour on their branches, inheritance of human diseases, and dancing alleles.

Seal in Vancouver harbour, waiting for salmon chops (Sept 23th 2012)

Besides this teaching experience (which takes only 3 days of my week) I continue to find my path through the maze of goose and eagle literature. As a nice break, I spent the Kermis Weekend (early September) on Hornby Island with most of my colleagues. The aim of the trip was to catch harlequin ducks (Histrionicus histrionicus) for one of my colleague’s  Ph. D. research (Emily Missyabit McAuley). This ecological research project focuses on the interaction between harlequin ducks and reintroduced fish. For more information about this project, you can read this blog here, written by another colleague (Jay Brogan): http://wetcoastscience.wordpress.com/2012/09/24/here-ducky-ducky-ducky/

My creative interpretation of my Ph. D. project

Going even further back in time (mid August), I also went to the North American Ornithological Conference at the University of British Columbia, in Vancouver. This four day conference was packed with interesting bird talks, cool people (e.g. researchers from New Zealand!) and fun festivities like a banquet and a Bird Band Jam.

There is not much else going on at the moment. Building up teaching skills takes a lot of time, and in weekends Johan and I mostly go hiking, shopping (we bought a new Sony camera in September), or car hunting. Until so far, we have fallen in love with affordable cars, but then we discovered that the insurance was less payable. This hunting episode continues!

September flew by and October is on its way. I am eager to hear about your adventures, honoured reader! 

Laat alstublieft een berichtje achter als u graag een Nederlandse vertaling wilt ontvangen.

Johan catching dragonflies at Rice Lake (Aug 12th 2012)

One of the captured dragonflies (Aug 12th 2012)

Spring thieves

In our (Johan and Marinde’s) front yard, cars dash through rush hour like salmon in a spawning stream. As they fight their way to their destination, traffic lights keep pulling them down, like bear claws. The road roars like a river when the traffic light finally shows green, very bear unlike. Inside the apartment, we try to ignore the constant river flow. We preferably focus on our backyard view: glancing at the secret life of the backyard squirrel on the wire, following the daily rhythm of the local crow club, and keeping the jay entertained with a portion of peanuts. We both rush to the window as quick as the casual Corvette when vulture wings flash shades on our balcony. Something we do not see every day! Summer in Vancouver. Rather not miss it!

Johan enjoying summer like a Vancouverite
-Johan geniet van de zomer als een echte Vancouveriaan-

Back to spring though. Already for a few months, I have returned from my Estonian adventure. Not surprisingly, I haven’t told you the whole story yet. Let me wake up your memories. I flew to Estonia on the 24^th of April. On the 10^th of May, I got company of Vena. She watched geese with me until the 20^th of May. Soon after I followed her way back to the Netherlands on the 26^th of May.

Back to spring memories, juniper shrubs and sea air
-Terug naar voorjaar gedachten, jeneverbesstruiken en zeelucht-

I will recall from my last post that I was heading to the Island Saaremaa. The largest island of Estonia apparently is famous for its windmills. Contrasting to the senior women on the ferry, I was not looking for them. My mission was to find the shadow that chases thousands of geese into the air like dust particles. First of all, I was looking for geese. Pointing my ears (and the nose of my car) into the direction of the west coast, I drove through the rural landscape. Large birds of prey waved at me from the metal blue sky, wings widely stretched. With the relative calm maximum speed of 90 km/h, I still went too fast to identify the heavenly silhouettes. Nevertheless, I would find my eagles later. 

Contrastingly to what I tell you in the story, I did look for windmills ;-)
Ik heb stiekem toch windmolens gezocht op Saaremaa

Geese I soon found in the backyard of my next accommodation in Toomalõuka. About 900 barnacle geese fed there in relative scattered groups. They did not show the concentrated flocks of scared geese. As I could have predicted at that moment, I did not see a single eagle in the next five days I watched these geese. Driven to find the eagles, I explored the coastal meadows along the vast south coast, scanning for the black and white zebra-like birds, grazing like zebras after all.

Anti-predation behaviour of barnacle geese: cramming together!
Anti-predatiegedrag van brandganzen: dicht tegen elkaar!

Later on, it appeared I searched too early. After picking up Vena from Tallinn, who was going to keep me company in the less lonely weeks that remained, we found the famous flocks of Estonia in Matsalu bay. Bird watchers told us they arrived only the day before. It did not take long before eagles showed themselves. Most days we saw at least two eagles, sometimes more. After spending more days at Matsalu Bay, we returned to Saaremaa to see how things were going there. We were not disappointed. On spots where I found only a few goose drops a week before, we could hardly see the grass through the geese now! Of course we were not the only creatures attracted to these gatherings; soon the flocks were blackening the sky when a dot in the sky appeared out of nowhere. We learned that geese are not very accurate in characterising their greatest enemy: they also flush for cranes, herons, air crafts, and anything else that is big and black against the sun. 

Common Cranes (Grus grus) probably felt powerful like eagles when they again flushed thousands of geese
-Kraanvogels voelden zich vast net zo sterk als arenden als ze al die ganzen onder zich zagen opschrikken-

Although we were always craving to see the legendary richness of Estonian wildlife, we constantly saw it when we least expected it. After a failed moose expedition at 5:30 in the morning, we saw two moose cross the road right in front of us when we were heading for our field site three hours later. Foxes appeared in the middle of the goose flocks. One of the foxes showed photo model capabilities after passing us only 20m away. More moose showed up during an expedition to find a breeding goose colony. Although the islands were deserted, a swimming moose made my day. Luckily, I still have to go back to Estonia next spring. I still have to see wolves, bears, lynx, and the legendary black stork.

Capturing to see that such a large animal can hide so well
-Prachtig om te zien dat zo'n groot dier zich zo goed kan verstoppen-

From mid May, wherever we went, we heard geese calling from the sky. Even on a remote site like Panga pank, a cliff on the north side of Saaremaa, we were soon followed by the familiar V shaped flocks. However, after taking Vena* back to the airport, I soon discovered that the geese had left as well. The sky was eerily silent without continuous goose chatter from the clouds, announcing another flock of seventy geese. Eagles on long distance flights apparently felt a bit deserted just like me. At the same time, summer weather changed Estonia in a mosquito eldorado. 

During daylight, Red Fox (Vulpes vulpes) could not scare geese as well as eagles
-Overdag kon Vos de ganzen niet zo goed laten schrikken zoals zeearenden-

My last road trip to Tartu led to the discovery that summer had really started in Estonia. It’s amazing how fast spring changes into summer in this country. Brown, unborn fields greeted me during my descending flight to Tallinn Airport on the 24^th of April. Not long after, on the 28^th of April, I saw the first leaves pop out of willows, more than a month after I saw the same thing happen in British Columbia. After one week, I was once again greeted: this time by whooshing eagle wings through goose flocks. Trees woke up around the 9^th of May. At the time I left Estonia on the 26^th of May, summer had fully revealed itself.  

Cattle took over the goose meadows at the start of the gooseless summer
-Rundvee nam de ganzenvelden over toen de gansloze zomer begon

Spring hardly exists in Estonia. I think I know why. Although a famous goose researcher stated that geese ride the green waves of spring growth, I am quite sure that geese steal spring. At the moment they leave their meadows, they take spring with them on their journey. Take it with them to their breeding grounds. Why else would snow melt in the cold Arctic regions where they breed? Geese simply are spring thieves.

*For travelling tips about Tallinn, the capital city of Estonia, you can easily ask me and Vena. Here are some: just snake through its medieval streets until you are too hungry to continue, and then eat a goat cheese sandwich on a square in the eye of one of the beautiful bell towers. Do not forget to visit the black angel statue along the beach east from the city, but be careful for her crow companions; they might unintentionally steal your phone.

Thank you Vena, for going on adventure with me!

Zwervend door Estland

My Queens day friend, the harrier, kept me company. He flew around me from only 3 meters away! April 30th 2012

Sinds dinsdag ben ik een zwerver in Estland. Ik zwerf achter de ganzen aan, van velden naar kusten, en weer terug. Zo probeer ik het ritme te leren. Zo'n gans blijft niet de hele dag op dezelfde plek! Nee, dat zou onderzoek veel te makkelijk maken. En de arenden? Die verdwijnen vaak als stipjes in de wolken, alsof ze zeggen: probeer mij maar eens bij te houden! Zo ging mijn dag in Estland ongeveer, met de nodige details weggelaten. Details over halfblote Finnen als hoteleigenaren, of bibberend van de kou een kopje thee krijgen van een aardige Est, of film kijken in spookachtig leeg touristencentrum, of in 5 verschillende bedden slapen in één week. Nee, dat soort verhalen zijn veel te saai voor mijn blog. 

Haapsalu has a real castle (in distance), April 30th 2012

Matsalu Laht National Park also has Scottish inhabitants! April 27th 2012

’s Ochtends stap ik de deur uit in mijn regenlaarzen, en snuif de zoute zeelucht op. Samen met de zon vullen de vogels de lucht met lente. Zo’n schoon geschrobde ochtendlucht, nog niet vervuild door autogas en etenslucht. Een leeuwerik laat zien hoe het hoort. Een groep van wel 500 kemphanen flitst geruisloos langs, en die wijst mij de weg naar de ganzen. Ganzen? Met mijn autootje rijd ik het erf af, over kiezels en kuilen, zoals een oud karrenspoor er hoogstwaarschijnlijk uit hoort te zien. In de verte klinkt een loeiende koe door mijn open autoraam. Ik volg een jodelende wulp naar de kust. Ik laad mijn spullen uit en loop het pad af naar de uitkijktoren. Ganzen?

Emptiness and silence in Estonia -Haeske, April 25th 2012

Ik speur de kust af, steen voor steen, eilandje na eilandje. Mijn adem stokt wanneer ik hem zie: de arend. Bovenop de hoogste gletsjersteen tast hij net als ik het gebied af met zijn vlijmscherpe ogen. We zijn zo verschillend, van afkomst, van levensdoel, van mogelijkheden. Toch hebben we één ding gemeen: we vragen ons beide af waar de ganzen zijn.

Tomtom and Kia C'eed, my companions! April 26th 2012

Uren gaan voorbij die ik besteed aan het volgen van de meeuwen, de sternen, de enkele bonte strandloper. Ik zoek de stenen af naar valken maar ik kan mijn valkenhonger niet stillen. De arend zit nog steeds op zijn steen, en de tijd lijkt stil te staan. De kemphanen rennen letterlijk langs de kust, achternagezeten door hun eigen agressie. Hun gedrag blijft een raadsel. Er zit geen regelmaat in. Constant zitten ze elkaar achterna, terwijl ze tussendoor met bliksemsnelheid naar eten pikken. Plotseling nemen ze dan met z’n allen de vleugels, en landen ze zeven meter verderop.

Eagle and me, waiting in an empty landscape near Haeske

 Het is half twee ’s middags. Er is iets veranderd, maar het duurt een paar momenten voordat ik het snap. Dan draai ik me vliegensvlug om. Ik hoor ze! Honderden, nee, duizenden keffende schoothondjes in de lucht. De brandganzen komen eraan. De arend strekt zijn nek uit. De ganzen landen nog geen twee meter van hem af. Zien ze hem niet, of kan het ze niks schelen? Het wordt hen betaald gezet, want al voor de laatste ganzenpoten het water raken, ontstaat er complete paniek. Ik zoek naar de oorzaak. De arend op de steen is er nog, maar waarom vliegen de ganzen dan weg? Dan zie ik hem! Niet meer dan een stipje hoog in de lucht kan duizenden ganzen in beweging brengen. En dat is wat ik zie. Een stipje. De actie is nog niet voorbij. De arend op de steen is plotseling verdwenen. Dat is het meest vervelende wat mij kan overkomen. Een arend die ik al de hele ochtend in de gaten houd, is opeens tóch uit mijn wakende blik ontsnapt. Gelukkig heb ik hem snel gevonden: met zijn klauwen haalt hij uit naar de nieuwkomer. Cirkelend gaan ze omhoog, en dan duikelen ze weer naar beneden, langs elkaar heen, constant uithalend. De ganzen? Die zijn rustig. Zolang de arenden geen ogen over hebben, nemen zij een hoognodig bad.

The first ones arrive! 

De arenden verdwijnen uit het zicht. Nu heb ik tweeduizend ganzen om naar te kijken. Hoe lang zal het duren voordat zij ook verdwijnen? Niet erg lang. De arenden zijn op jacht. Drie adulten en drie juvenielen tel ik. Zij manoeuvreren door de lucht alsof het niets voorstelt om twee meter breed te zijn. Ganzenogen worden groter, nekken gestrekt. Dan trilt de lucht van de sterke vleugelslagen. De tweeduizend ganzen kiezen het luchtruim. Een paar minuten cirkelen ze over de velden, maar al snel komen ze terug. Gerustgesteld, want de arenden hadden het niet op hen gemunt. Een kuifeend is gevallen in de strijd. Zes arenden en één kuifeend. Het duurt niet lang of er zijn opeens twee kuifeenden, want de arenden hebben hem aan stukken gescheurd. Eerlijk wordt alles gedeeld, ook al kost het wat moeite om al die klauwen en snavelpunten te ontwijken. Krijgertje voor gevorderden.

Geese are quite easy to scare, I found out soon... - Near Tuuru

De ganzen blijven in het water tot de avond valt. Poetsen, badderen, en dan dommelen ze langzaam in slaap. Indien een arend verschijnt, ontstaat er een massale chaos. Toch is het water zo aantrekkelijk dat ze niet verder vliegen dan 500 meter voordat ze weer neerstrijken. Geen echte paniek.

Dan begint de volgende trigger: honger! In kleine groepen verlaten vogels het water. Langzaam verdwijnen ze als stippen aan de horizon, achter de bossen. De velden in. Het prille gras is daar voor hen. Voor hen alleen.

Spring is slowly arriving in Estonia too! April 27th 2012

De kust is leeg, op de kemphanen, sternen, meeuwen, zwanen, eenden, kieviten, scholeksters, en reigers na. Hoewel al die dieren er nog zijn, voel ik me toch alleen. Alleen en bevroren. Genoeg gezien voor vandaag. De schemering neemt mijn enthousiasme weg. Ik bibber naar huis. Van de kou ben ik uitgeput, en ik ga lekker vroeg slapen. Verlangend naar die ochtendlucht.

Castle in Haapsalu. It even has a real ghost! (like a lego castle). April 26th 2012

Zo eindigt een dag Estse ganzen zoeken. Eigenlijk ben ik te vroeg: de meeste ganzen moeten nog komen. Volgende week ga ik naar Saaremaa, het grootste eiland van Estland. Nog een paar nachtjes slapen tot het volgende verhaal! Welterusten!

Marinde