The local Røst choir is a wonderful amateur choir directed by “øy-musikant” – “island-musician” Mikke Rönneberg. Due to corona, we had to cancel the heart warming Yuletide concert 2 years in a row now. As a little “plaster på såret” (plaster on the wound), I post our 2019 concert here. Some of the 2019 soloists included Hildegunn Pettersen and Chris Evjen and “toast master” was Gøran Greger.
What exactly is the Juletide bird in Nordland?
The stately red dompap, or the stylish and colorful yellow sparrow, which likes Juletide aswell?
I just as often think of another species around Juletide time. The young leave the nest around Juletide amongst this species.
The idea that right now they are sitting in their nest caves and are ready to leave the nest, in the middle of the dark-times,
is quite fantastic.
And it is happening just in these darkest of days in the Northern World, on rocky, grassy and windswept islands on the Nordland coast.
This year's Storm Petrel chicks are about to leave their nests, to move out onto the sea and fly south into the Atlantic Ocean.
Some of them fly far south of the equator, to the coast of South Africa.
What could be the reason why these breed so late in the year? The Storm Petrel is a rather small bird, it normally weighs
20-30 gramsas an adult. That is, it weighs less than a dompap, but has much longer wings. Although they are very skilled pilots
out on the open sea, they are vulnerable and completely defenseless on land. They simply cannot fly to and from the nest in daylight
without exposing themselves to the great danger of being caught by hungry seagulls and other predators. Therefore, they have to
wait to nest until the nights start to get so dark that they can fly to and from the nest without being seen.
The nest is usually located under stone slabs, inside rock piles, or in nest passages of Puffins. The Storm Petrel lays 1 egg there, it is often laid in August here in Nordland. It takes 40-50 days before it hatches, and the chick needs 56-86 days before it leave the nest, so it can be late December before they fly out! The first days after hatching, the chicks get food almost daily, but gradually it takes longer between each time. It can quickly become 4-5 days towards the end of the breeding, and then finally it can take 7 days from the last feeding until the chicks leave the nest, most likely on their own. Maybe just right now there are some young Storm Petrels sitting in nests somewhere on the coast of Nordland and waiting until a little later in the evening before they leave their safe nest for the very first time. They will instinctively seek out the open seas where they will spend most of their adult lives, only comeing ashore to nest. A Real little juletide miracle! Some fun facts:
The Storm Petrel egg weighs approx. 25% of the female birds's weight! It is in the same class with the Kiwi's egg, which is known to
have the largest egg in relation to the mother of all birds.
They always lay only 1 egg.
The egg can withstand exceptionally well to be cooled, which is crucial for them to be able to nest so far to the north so late
in the year. However, this means that it takes longer from the time the egg is laid until it hatches.
The young lay down quickly, and can weigh almost twice as much as the parent birds for a while, but then they have to slim down
considerably towards the end of the nesting period to become airworthy. See a picture of a 7-day-old cub here - it was photographed
by researchers studying the pups' ability to regulate heat.
The Storm Petrel is a numerous breeding bird in Great Britain, the Faroe Islands, Iceland and along the Norwegian/Sámi coast,
more numerous in the Mediterranean and in the Canary Islands. It is estimated that there are up to 10,000 pairs,
breedinig in Norway/Sápmi.
Although the Storm Petrel is quite small, it can become quite old. The oldest known Storm Petrel here in Norway/Sápmi,
was just over 29 years old. But a bird which was over 33 years old, has been found on the British Isles.
They begin to nest at the age of four or five.
(Complete text and photo by Atle Ivar Olsen here (BirdLife Nordland)
The northern tip of Hernyken nature reserve is looking towards the Trenyken. In between the two islands seabirds gather on the sea in large numbers. A quiet flow of sounds from thousand upon thousands of birds rafting out on the water is what this soundscape intended to capture. The birds socialize, clean their feathers, some take off and some are landing. The waves are hitting the rocky shore with resonating crevices, and various birds and insects are in the air.
Since this soundscape was recorded in 2010-2011, the decline in the seabird population on Røst has escalated. During the summer of 2020 the bird mountain of Vedøya, including the Kittiwakes breeding in the Vishellern cave, were gone.
Here is a small excerpt of a recording I did overnight at the bottom of the cave in 2010 or 2011. The sonic sensation of a flock of Kittiwakes flying out of the cave and over you is one of the strongest and most mesmerizing sound memories I carry with me.
Statistically speaking there are no more Kittiwakes and Guillemot breeding on Vedøya. In 1980 there were approximately 1.5 million pairs of Puffins breeding in all of the Røst archipelago and on Vedøya only, 12000 pairs of Guillemots and 25.000 pairs of Kittiwakes. Nowadays, the overall Puffin population is down to around 200.000 pairs and the few Guillemots left are hiding in small caves and crevices. The last Kittwakes of Røst are now clinging on in Kårøya and Gjellfruvær. If the decline continues, there will be no Puffins left in Røst by 204o.
Vedøy is the most famous of the bird mountains in the Røst arhipelago. No more than thirty years ago there were more than 20000 pairs of Kittiwakes nesting in the steep cliffs of Vedøy. The soundscape was so loud it could be heard on the neighboring islands. In late March of 2010, I experienced a vague shadow of what it must have sounded like back then when a white cloud of elegant kittiwakes vocalized and moved in and out of the bird cliffs simultaneously. Today there are only a few thousand of Kittiwake pairs left, and they are listed as critically threatened on the Norwegian red list.
Photo: Querinifest 2019 – Concert by Vishellarn – Avisa Nordland
I love how the the gak gak´s, the ho-ho -ing of The Eider and the churps of Eider chicks resonate in the narrow harbor, Keila on Skommvær.
They find shelter in the Wedge of Keila and dive to fish for scallops and small crustaceans.
In the past decades, there has been a decline in the population of Eiders all along the coast of NO/Sápmi. The
You can read more about why here:
A warmer ocean is bad news for Eiders
“The common eider is a large diving duck that can be found along the entire coast of Norway, but its numbers are decreasing. Researchers have registered declining eider populations over several years without being able to point to any specific explanation for the decline. They know that introduced American mink and birds of prey pose an increasing threat to adult eiders and that egg-predators, such as crows and large gulls, may have negative impacts on reproduction. Now, researchers have discovered that ocean warming is a direct cause of population decline in this species.” (SEAPOP)
Photo by Kåre Hansen
What does it sound like when one of Northern Europes most epic and famous bird mountains loses its voice?
To all of our discontent and shock; Vedøya (Røst) became silent in the summer of 2020,
I recently composed the first verse or episodes you could say, in a series of sound works lamenting the loss of Vedøya as a sea bird mountain.
The work wishes to speak to Vedøyas origins and life until this day, from a variety of voices.
The work’s narrative is based on a script I have been writing using many years of research into archives, my own deepening friendship with – and getting to know the island as well as conversations with local people and neighbors, bird scientists, and ornithologists who have been working on Vedøya throughout time.
I am sharing with you the newly translated script. The translation was done by the poet and writer Annabelle Despard.
////o v o////
I’m lying here resting
with my mountain sisters
the sun warms me
the winds and rain
wash
us
lichen and moss-skin
protect us
we listen to
eternity
the waves
waves
clumps of seaweed
on the shore
are stirred
by cycles
below us
we feel
the power
magma
the origin of Utrøstryggen
we are the elders
born in the world’s infancy
yet still rising
through millennia
under heavy massed ice
the ice
melting
the winds
the water
the currents
insisting
shaping and honing
landslides at times
shapes changing
new spaces made
cliff faces
are open invitations
I call them my winged. children
one springwinter they came flying
in over the hills
different voices
have
come
gone
come
gone
long gone
every spring
we are woken
and we no longer crave for company
in the long summer nights
eggs
are laid
lain on
fed
hatched
squeaking
chattering
squabbling
calling
answering
then they fly off
in August
in twilight days
It’s light tonight
but all I want is to sleep
everything is changed
I don’t know where I am
without
the screeching
the blare
the sheen of the silver mantel
a pair of ravens
are searching in vain
for life
their shrieks echo in Visheller´n
////
One springwinter long long ago
our forebirds came flying
Our time is old
it is hard to say when we came
but we remember
an ancient mineral giant
born from Utrøstryggens
300 million years
Were you expecting company?
we found rocky ledges
for white and turquoise eggs
rock nests
and hollows
such lovely song
in the steep rock face
///
I look at you
from different angles
daily
try to store
your outline
your
shape
in me
changing
with the wind
the weather
kinds of light
you are stoical today
seen from the north
I cannot see the sea
between you and Røst
you rise straight up out of the ground
a support
supporting
here we stand
glaring at each other
///
Today I came back to Vedøya
I walked up the sheep track along Bunes Bay
to the old Swiss hut for bird research
Two people
sitting on the step
tying their shoelaces
ready to investigate the auk
It is the summer of 1965
harvest
shouting and children’s laughter
sheep and lambs bleating
coffeepots rattling
a pipe is lit
But where are the kittiwakes?
///////
Nothing is as it was
we get used to the land
all over again
but everything feels strange
the choir no longer sings in unison
few or nobody
is at home
as they were
not very long ago
one auk
or a single
guillemot
dives off the cliff face
lonely arrows
vibrating in the air
In the light time
the wren sings
her solo
Birds are at home
floating weightlessly
strangely eternal
if only the sea was not so empty
birds, sheep, people, guano
plants proliferating
under the mountain’s towering
being
asleep
hunting island
gathering fodder
summer pastures
Photo by EMØV
Archival image, Vedøya, 1.6.1963 by Paul Andreas Røstad
One of the Puffin’s social activities is called wheeling. This is a cyclic group activity that happens in intervals throughout the day, the week, and the season. The Puffins move together in an elliptic circle flying against the wind up towards their particular nest sites. There will be several circles around the different parts of the colony, in several vertical layers. Part of the circle is over the seabird raft out on the waterfront and part is over the colony. I wanted to capture sounds of swarming and wheeling, both from the inside-, as well as from the outside of a skree. This is what it sounds like on a summer night in early July 2011.
