What's your favorite color blue?

Red-footed boobies on my morning seawall walk

I'm starting week 3 here on Tern. Last week was more of the same -- checking up on my albatross plots, poking birds with sticks to see if they have eggs or not (MIC - mean incubation count), and plenty of cleaning refrigerators (Chipping away at built up sheets of ice takes a whole afternoon! Who knew?).

One of the first things my dad asked me when I called today was "Did you make a chick throw up?" Now, how he knew to ask that, I'll never know -- it's got to be the lawyer in him. I admit that I had, indeed, done the thing that I've feared doing since I was schooled in albatross-isms the first full day I was here. I was feeling very brave on Thursday, and a little restless. The plane had come and gone that day, so Dave (manager on Tern) was showing the new guys around, and the rest of us didn't have too much to do. For me though, albatross chicks had to be banded -- they're getting bigger by the day and I have to change their small temporary bands for bigger temporary bands so they're not in any pain. I got Jim to help me out; so while Jim shielded my hand from the bird's beak with a clipboard, I slipped the old band off, and the new band on. This was working out ok -- the birds seemed mildly upset but they were doing relatively well. Then I came to BFAL nest #15. That little guy was restless too. He scurried around as best he could trying to get away from us, but crap! that guy looked like a small turkey! He had to be re-banded! While Jim readied his clipboard, I stepped on an abandoned, rotten albatross egg. Nothing, not even Mrs. Lisauckis' science experiments, could've prepared me for that horrible smell. I squatted down to band this chick and stuck my head right in the stink cloud that was hovering around its nest bowl. Yeah, I had to step back a few feet and regain my eyesight. I went back to the little guy one more time. By now, he was REALLY jumpy and nervous, ready and willing to bite my finger off. Jim tried to protect me, I tried to band his leg, and then the throw up came. And came. And came. Fish eggs, a squid, even smellier purplish fluid. I got the band on, stepped back again, trying not to throw up myself -- man, it was ripe at nest #15. I felt horrible too - that poor little chick might die because of me! Luckily, Melinda made me feel better -- apparently, studies have shown that one good puking won't necessarily cause death. And she said that she's seen smaller chicks puke up 2x as much as #15 did. Thanks Melinda! I've been by to check the little guy. He seems to be fine, but still perturbed to see me walk up. I don't blame him.

Plot #1 - they look like gophers huh?

There have been multiple rainbows the last few days. Not the tiny ones I used to love watching while the sprinkler was spraying water. The big kind, the Holy Grail of rainbows -- the full arch, stretched across the entire horizon as plain as day for several minutes. I'm going to have to splice together the complete rainbow from the pictures I took, but it was spectacular to watch. (Yes, I watched an inanimate object for several minutes -- don't judge!) The next day, there was another. And then the next day, another. I've also seen "moon dogs" (I hope that's the right term Pete!) -- a "rainbow" of the moon. It's a circle of hazy light, surrounding the moon like a halo. Wednesday night it was complete all the way around and bright as can be. Who would've thought that ice crystals frozen in the atmosphere could have such a beautiful effect? I like having all these rainbows pop up -- delicate reminders of God's promise.

Part of the rainbow on flight day

I also learned how to snorkle a bit. Boy, I made it as difficult as possible for Pete to teach me too -- my mask wouldn't fit right, I was using my hands to swim the only way I knew how (in snorkling, you don't always need to use your hands to swim -- especially while kicking around the baby way I was), struggling to breath when I went up for air (which I didn't need to do -- that's what that snorkle's there for -- I know this now), getting way too tired from kicking for 15 minutes. Snorkling's a zen thing. Deep breath in, deep breath out, kick a little, observe the pretty fish. Once I kind of got the swing of things, and started looking around, it was incredible. The fish are so colorful here -- and I didn't even see the really amazing ones! I also saw a sea turtle swim about 10 feet away from me. He was so graceful, didn't even look my way. Just carried on his underwater stroll right on past and into the deep. I can't wait to go underwater again -- even if the Pacific isn't the Gulf bathwater I so love.

Snorkling off East Beach

After we got done snorkling, Pete asked me what my favorite color blue was. I must've looked at him like he was crazy, because then he pointed at the water and asked again. I hadn't thought of that yet -- should have, but hadn't. So I looked at all the colors of blue that were shimmering in the ocean, making up the landscape in front of me. I've been busy the last few weeks, but it was good to pick my favorite color blue.