The main reason that most birders come to Madeira are the pterodroma petrels that breed on and around the island. Modern taxonomy describes the pterodromas that breed on the Desertas Islands as Desertas Petrel; those that breed on highest peaks of Madeira as Zino’s Petrel and the birds that breed on the equatorial Cape Verde Islands as Fea’s Petrel. As Desertas and Fea’s Petrels are virtually indistinguishable in the field, many simply lump them together under the general title “Fea’s Petrels”. Here I am going to call them Desertas Petrels, in order to distinguish them from the Cape Verde breeders.
Neither Desertas nor Zino’s Petrels are particularly common birds, even around the islands. Flood and Fisher (2013) estimate that there may be some 150-200 pairs of Desertas Petrels on Bugio and a total world population of perhaps some 3,000 Fea’s-type birds (including those breeding on the Cape Verde Islands). Estimates of the Zino’s Petrel population on the peaks of Madeira are difficult, but there may be as few as 50 pairs remaining after the catastrophic forest fires of 2010 which affected their breeding colony.
I did visit Pico do Arieiro with Hugo and Catarina to try to hear Zino’s Petrels returning to their colony at night, but we were unlucky with the weather. Whilst it was a humid 28 degrees in coastal Funchal, at 1818m on the summit of Pico do Arieiro, it was only 8 degrees and that was without the significant windchill. The clouds were rolling in and it was not deemed safe to head out onto the edges of the mountains to listen for petrels:
So, my chances of seeing pterodroma petrels would be limited to the three consecutive afternoons and evenings at sea that make up the Windbirds pelagic trips. Getting far enough out to sea to have a reasonable chance of attracting pterodroma petrels takes a little work. Fortunately, Hugo and Catarina make this as straightforward as is possible, but hours at sea are required and sightings are not guaranteed. The boat is a 12 seater RIB, the “Oceanodroma”, fitted out with compression seats, that absorb the impact of the boat bouncing through the waves:
There were 9 birders on our trips, 7 Germans, a Frenchman and me. I teamed up with Fabian Bindrich, a German birder, who I sat next too on all three trips and who has provided some of the pictures in this post. He took this one of me (third from right) and the rest of the team as we waited to depart in Machico harbour, some 20 minutes drive from Funchal.
The trips all follow a similar pattern: we travel for up to two hours out to sea. We then spend 4 – 5 hours chumming and drifting, before returning the 1.5- 2 hours back to the island. Our first trip, on Wednesday 30th July, was the most demanding. There was a brisk, force 6 northerly wind and a 1.5-meter swell. These were good conditions for spreading the smell of rotting fish and fish oils from the chum that would attract seabirds, but would make for a demanding afternoon. As Zino’s Petrel was our first target, we would head north, directly into the wind and waves. We were warned on our departure that the journey out would be “extremely wet”. They were right.
It started innocently enough. We sped out of Machico harbour and headed east, sailing parallel to the long headland that makes up the far eastern tip of Madeira. At the end of the long headland there is an offshore island, Ilhéu do Farol, with a lighthouse on top. Between the two is a narrow gap with a fierce tide race. As we approached, Fabian and I glanced at each other nervously. A two-meter high wall of waves was being thrown up as the wind driven waves from the north attempted to power through the small gap in the headland. The way the waves stood out against the calm of the bay that we were crossing was incredible. “I’m glad we are not going through there” I said to myself, in the same instant that Catarina turned the boat to the port side and we headed straight for the standing mass of turbulent waves.
It was not possible to capture this with our cameras. Our equipment was stored away in dry bags and we were holding on for dear life. I took a picture of the gap on a completely calm day, on our third afternoon. It is the idyllic gap above the splashing Bottle-nosed Dolphin. It certainly was not like this on our first day:
We shot up the first wave and slammed down into the trough behind it, landing with a loud thud. We were heading directly into the northerly wind so there was no escaping the wind or the waves. The compression seats were fantastic, absorbing much of the impact of landing, but it took all one’s concentration to anticipate the hard landings as we hit the bottom of the troughs. Having nothing to do except hang on, I spent some time trying to produce an accurate description of the experience. The nearest I got was this: imagine trying to ride a bucking broncho at the fair. It thrashes around all over the place, but you manage to hang on, constantly using your arms and legs to balance. Add to that image the fact that someone is throwing a cold bucket of saltwater in your face, about once every minute. For 90 minutes. That was our ride out north of Madeira.
After 90 minutes of being slammed up and down, we arrived. It says something about the journey out that I was actually looking forward to spending the next 4 hours drifting and chumming, an experience that usually turns me green. Fortunately, we were well advised by Hugo and Catarina and my system was filled with Stugeron, which kept all sensations of seasickness at bay on all three afternoons.
Zino’s Petrel
Our main target. Although we had a distant pterodroma petrel in the late afternoon, it appeared directly in front of the sun and then disappeared, unidentified. The afternoon turned to evening. We were surrounded by Cory’s Shearwaters and Bulwer’s Petrels. The light faded. At 20:25 Catrina picked up an incoming Pterodroma, coming towards us from the south. It was slender and lightweight:
As it approached the slim bill confirmed it’s identity, our first Zino’s Petrel! I awaited cheers or some sign of celebration from the other birders on board, but none came. I expressed my surprise to Hugo later and he explained “Germans celebrate inside”.
The journey back, with the wind behind us, was a breeze. We skimmed over the waves as darkness fell. And then at 20:56 another Pterodroma appeared. It zipped past in the middle distance in really poor light. It was not conclusively identified at the time but was recorded as a possible Desertas Petrel. I tried to photograph it, but it was too dark and the results hardly qualified as record shots. But on reviewing those images back at home, the bill of this bird appears tiny and one shot appears to reveal a moderate amount of white on the underwing. A probable Zino’s Petrel?
Crossing the tiderace between Ilhéu do Farol and the peninsular was like surfing. We rode the waves across the gap and gently body boarded into the calm waters south of the headland. We were home, having seen Zino’s Petrel.
Desertas Petrels
The second and third afternoons were spent to the south of Madeira looking for Desertas Petrel and storm-petrels. Conditions were calmer, with less wind and swell, which was physically easier, but less helpful in dispersing the chum. Day two was the quietest of the three days. There were hundreds of Bulwer’s Petrels around the chum slick, but very little else and no pterodroma petrels were seen.
Eventually, at 18:30, two storm-petrels appeared in the chum slick. All storm-petrels are good, but when White-faced, Maderian and Wilson’s Petrels are all distinct possibilities, seeing 2 European Storm-petrels was something of an anti-climax. Especially when we learnt that the trip after ours saw all the specialist storm petrels, see here. Our only consolation was being accompanied by over 40 Atlantic Spotted Dolphins as we returned to Maderia. The sea was bathed in orange from the setting sun, a large pod of dolphins was all around our speeding boat, bow-riding just for the fun of it, just fabulous.
Nevertheless, even after a quiet day two, I was still looking forward to going out to sea on a third consecutive afternoon. Day three had the calmest conditions and once again we headed south. One hour and twenty minutes into our journey to the Desertas Islands, I see a shape behind and high to my left, in my peripheral vision. I glance up and find myself looking into the dark eye patch of a pterodroma petrel. Micheal, who was sitting behind me, and I shout “pterodroma” and instantly the engine is cut. Unfortunately, the bird departs directly away from us, giving no-one any sort of decent view. Fortunately, 15 minutes later, it returns, wheeling around the boat. One minute in the sky, the next skimming through the troughs:
There was then a long period of just Cory’s Shearwaters and Bulwer’s Petrels. Fabian picked up a passing pterodroma in the middle distance, heading towards Bugio, but it didn’t stop. At 20:05 a Desertas Petrel was finally attracted to the chum slick and spent some minutes wheeling around us. This was not a particularly thick-billed individual but had enough chunkiness and weight to be identified as a Desertas Petrel. Note how the colouration of this bird changes depending on light conditions over the following nine pictures:
All in all, I really enjoyed the Windbird pelagic trips and would recommend them to any birder with an interest in petrels. We were unlucky with storm-petrels, but that is the risk you take with wildlife watching, nothing is guaranteed. Hugo’s summary of our three trips is here on the Windbirds website.
Next: Maderian landbirds
