Thursday, May 11, 2017

The Drama of the Lighthouse Murres

One of our first stops in Newport, Oregon, was the Yaquina Bay Lighthouse. To save money, the state of Oregon built the lightkeeper's house as part of the lighthouse, and made the beacon only 142 feet tall. It was built in 1871, and was only used for three years before it was replaced with a taller and brighter model. Even though it wasn't used very long, we can still check off lighthouse #6 in our trek across Oregon.

That location wasn't ideal for helping ships around this tricky coastline, so three miles down the coast the Yaquina Head Lighthouse was built a few years later. Standing 162 feet above the ocean, it is the tallest lighthouse on the Oregon coast. It's also our seventh lighthouse to visit since we've been in this state.

Instead of going directly to the lighthouse, we stopped in at the visitor center. The lighthouse is situated inside the Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area, with an informative center with fine exhibits. But instead of spending time inside the visitor's center, they quickly told us we needed to go see the mountain in the ocean behind the lighthouse. From the picture below, it looks like one of the many mountainous rocks we have been seeing.

But as we look closer, we see a flurry of movement on top, and a curious racket.

That's because the murres are in town! Common murres are shore birds that arrive at the Oregon coast every spring to raise a family. They estimate that 20,000 to 40,000 birds will nest here, and today the murres are picking out spots to call their home on the rocks.

From this distance the murres look a little like penguins, with their dark backs and white breasts.

It's hard to get a good picture of just how many birds we were seeing. But they were perched on every semi-flat piece of rock sticking out of the ocean. It's not unusual for 7-8 murres to crowd into a single square foot of prime real estate.

They are looking for nesting spots today. They don't actually make a nest, but the female will lay a single pear-shaped egg directly on the rocks. From the looks of some of these spots, it looks like that egg would roll right down the hill into the ocean. But the pear-shape will actually help it to spin rather than roll downhill.

As we look further out, we see that not all the murres have found a place on the rocks. Do you see the gray area in the water past the rocks and the white waves?

That's actually a flotilla of thousands more murres that can't fit on the rocks. These birds aren't great flyers, but they are superb swimmers. They dive for fish, going 100 feet or more underwater to catch their prey.

We are fascinated with this huge flock of birds, and are interested as the ranger explains their egg-laying process to us. Once the egg is on the rocks, it must be incubated for around 30 days before the chick will hatch. But this flock has had problems with that process. There are eagles living in the trees on the coast, and they see a crowded mountain-top of murres as an easy meal. When the murres scatter from the eagle attack, the gulls and crows swoop in to gather up the unattended eggs. It's a one-two punch that destroys most of the murre offspring before they get a chance to hatch.

The ranger had just finished telling us this sad story, when 30 seconds later we saw a large shadow appear above the crowded rock. An agile flyer, this guy is right in the center of the picture below.

The bald eagle swept down onto the mountain and found his victim. It was an easy hunt as he returned to the air with the unsuspecting murre in his talons.

We've always been so in awe of a bald eagle sighting. But today Denisa thought this guy felt like a sinister bad guy in a murder mystery that was unfolding right before her eyes. That's when Mark pointed out that the eagles have to eat too. The pictures aren't great because we were so surprised to see the eagle appear on cue as soon as the young ranger finished talking. She was just as amazed at what was unfolding as we were.

Right on cue, the murre flock began scattering in terror. The crows and gulls immediately appeared, disappointed that there are no eggs laid yet. The ranger had explained that the grass and sidewalks in this area will be littered with egg shells on a daily basis as this drama continues through the spring. In fact, this flock of 20,000 birds successfully raised less than ten chicks last year!

We were so in awe of what we had just witnessed that it was hard for us to leave this scene. The timing of the hunt was amazing to us! We eventually stopped watching the murres and noticed the group of seals resting far below us on the rocks.

Oblivious of the murre drama we had just witnessed, the seals were resting in the rocks on the other side of the cliffs. It is low tide now, so we headed down off the cliff to the water's edge.

Once we got to the beach, we could see the lighthouse on the cliff, as well as its image reflected in the tide pools below.

We are getting to be experienced tide poolers, and we are less impressed by the usual anemones and barnacles. But a colorful crab will still warrant a picture.

Incidentally, we would return to the Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area again before we left the area. We wanted to spend time at the visitor center, and we just had to see if the murres were still in town. Aside from a few gulls, the mountain in the ocean was completely silent. The ranger tells us that the flock will return again closer to egg-laying time.

Until then, the beautiful shoreline is quiet. But we will never forget the murre drama that we saw unfold here at the lighthouse this day.

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