Noting its significant natural and cultural values, this past summer, on July 30, 2010, UNESCO’s World Heritage Organization inscribed Papahanaumokuakea to its World Heritage List. 

Next month, we expect about 100 pairs of Laysan albatrosses will return to Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge to breed, lay a single and care for their one chick until it fledges some time in July. Factor in three birds for each nest site (not all birds breed), and I don’t even need a calculator to sum up the fact that Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge doesn’t contribute much to the overall Laysan albatross population. Not compared to Midway.  But that may change.

 Four days have passed since I bid a hui hou to Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge, and the experience is slipping away like a dream upon waking, or, more appropriately, like an albatross flying off into the sunset.  Midway is fading from an everyday reality into some ethereal event.  I find it hard to conjure up in my mind the sounds of hundreds of thousands of dancing, bill-clacking, sky-mooing, cooing, trusting albatrosses?  Did I really crawl through ropey naupaka bushes and dig Bonin petrels out of crushed burrows?  Can the two-week experience already be over?

A Hui Ho!

Albatross simply fly too fast for my camera to focus.  So, I get a lot of these kinds of pictures.

We may not get weekends off, but we albatross counters do get Christmas Day off.The serious birders, however, participated in the Audubon Society’s 109^th annual Christmas Bird Count today.  I opted to go snorkeling.

After 11 days, I feel the same way.Caroline Kennedy is running for senator?Hmm.A reporter threw a shoe at President Bush?Really?The University of Hawaii football team was trounced by Notre Dame.Toobad.It’s snowing in Chicago?So.

It’s time to talk about the trash.More specifically, the plastic.
Just about every albatross nest site here on Midway has bits of plastic in it.Albatross use whatever is within reaching distance of their nest to build the home for their egg.In the ironwood forests, I see nests built up with tiny pine cones.In the fields with verbesina, I see nests built up with sticks of the invasive weed.Near the beach, it’s sand.On the side of the runway, it’s tiny bits of gravel.Almost all albatrosses use some amount of plastic to build their nests.

As I stepped out of the shower, I heard a rap at the door and quickly slipped into some clothes. When I opened the door, the threshold stood empty. There was no one there. As I stared at empty space, I heard the sound again. Knock. Knock. Knock. It was an albatross outside my window.

One week down; one week to go.

Today, we biked to the Empire Café and received good news.  (Of course, the fact that it wasn’t raining at the time and the winds had backed off to 20 knots was already good news.)

Still rainy.  Still windy.  Still a whole lotta birds to count.

For some reason, I have taken to the black-footed albatross.  So much so that my crewmate Lindsey knows to let me mark the nest sites that fall on the line between us.

The plane may be child size.  Cellular service may be non-existent.  Internet speed may be the equivalent of dial-up.  But you’ve got to hand it to Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge:  The showers are hot, hot, hot. It helps soothe the sore muscles.

Our prop plane touched down at Midway Atoll National Wildlife Refuge under cover of darkness just a couple minutes before 6:00 a.m. local time, nearly 5 hours after we departed Honolulu International Airport.Laysan albatross lined the runway, like spectators at a parade.  It was as if they were awaiting our arrival.

 It was another Friday afternoon at Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge when a man asked what kind of bird was perched on Moku’ae’ae Island.
I lifted my binoculars and spied the profile of a seabird with a dark-colored body. My fellow volunteer Lee asked, “What color is it?” “Dark,” I said