Bald on the beach

On the way back home from a grocery run one afternoon, we saw a large convocation of eagles on the beachward side of the roadway.  We pulled over, and witnessed about 30 bald eagles in the midst of a frantic feast (though wild animals do tend to always dine in degrees of franticness).

Taking off with the bounty

With nearly a dozen eagles permanently guarding what remained of the food, another dozen or so sitting on nearby perches, and another couple dozen or so in the air flying in, grabbing bits of food, and flying off, and another few dozen or so in trees savouring their meal, there were perhaps 60 eagles in the vicinity.

Latecomers

It was only after about 10 minutes of observation that it became clear to me what they were eating - discarded salmon heads and backbones.  A fisherman had dumped them on the beach, to the enthusiastic glee of the many eagles.

Giving chase - entering the mad foray surrounding the pile of salmon carcasses might require boldness only the tenacious youngsters or the more senior adults possess, but intimidating another eagle to drop its food is something anyone can do. One needs to consider the ocean-bound scavengers, however, such as the seal in the foreground.

Onlookers

Herring - the signal for the start of spring

A dozen or years ago, I watched the Planet Earth series for the first time.  I watched the entire series with enthusiasm, as it introduced me to groundbreaking form of wildlife cinematography. Each animal story was framed inside its ecology, to illustrate beautifully the food web.

Each episode of the series would focus on specific biomes, and one of those was Cold Waters, referring mostly to waters in the Pacific Northwest.  It described one of the natural wonders of the BC coast - the return of the herring to the beaches where they were hatched. 

Yellow brick road

For a few days, timed with a high tide, herring will proceed to spawn in the intertidal beaches.  The eggs are intended to stick on smooth surfaces like bladderwort and kelp, but billions upon billions of eggs will float away with the pounding surf and coat the beaches.  About a week later, those that survive desiccation and predation they will hatch during a high tide.  The congregation of fish does not go unnoticed, and sea lions, orcas, and sea birds will all gorge themselves on the buffet.  It is the sheer number of spawning herring that ultimately gives their next generation a fighting chance.

Peering out at the world with well developed eyes

A minute-old hatched herring next to two eggs

Tide pools are filled centimetres-deep with herring roe.  In this photo, maybe one egg might reach maturity.

We missed the actual spawn by a few days - we were told that orcas and hundreds of sea lions passed through the week before to follow the herring.

The males employ a shotgun approach at fertilization, ejecting milt (sperm) into the water after a female has laid her eggs, turning the water an aquamarine colour.

Herring roe is traditionally used by native first nations as a food source, and I wanted to try it - I picked up a clump, and bit in.  The salty crunch is no different from the Tobiko used in sushi.