Pacific Wildlife

One of the more fascinating experiences of living on the Pacific Ocean islands and aboard ship was the wild life, both in the sea and in the air.

The Midway Islands, which are now an official bird sanctuary under the management and care of the Department of the Interior, was a major bird habitat long before World War II and before Charles Lindberg mapped the pending island hopping of the clipper flying boats of Pan American Airways from the United States to the Orient. 

During my visits to Midway, I learned a number of lessons about the islands and the bird life.  First, and foremost, always wear some form of hat or suffer the consequences.  With untold thousands, if not tens of thousands, of birds on or above the island, if you don’t wear a hat they will get you, sooner or later.  It was impossible to live there and not be splattered.  During all of the waking hours, the air was filled with noisy flying birds of all sizes and color, doing what comes naturally.

Most notable were the albatross, more popularly known as the gooney bird because of their comical antics. There were hundreds of varieties of terns and many other species, most having colorful and beautiful plumage.  The air over the islands, the lagoon and the reefs was always teeming with bird life.  With a prevailing wind blowing over the island some birds would float in the air, using the wind to maintain height and position.  One bird that I recall, but do not remember its name, was about the size of a pigeon, was all white, and had a very long slender red tail feather which it appeared to use for navigation.  In some strange way this bird was able to depress the tail feather and fly backwards. 

Seagulls of all varieties abounded.  They were as much a thief on Midway as we find them at the New Jersey shore.  Leave your food unprotected and they would sweep in and steal it.  Of course, anyone who left food out in the open was being foolish to start with.  In no time at all it could become inedible.  Many of these birds were great fishermen.  They would swoop onto the surface of the lagoon and fly up with a fish on almost every pass.  The gooney birds did most of their fishing in the ocean.  The gulls fished where they pleased.  I think if they were able to get into our quarters to steal food, they would have done so. 

One of the most impressive birds was the Frigate Bird, known locally as the Pirate Bird.  It floated high above the island on thermal updrafts, floating in circular and figure eight patterns, with very little movement of its wings.  It gave all the indications of a bird on patrol.  It was black, with very long wings

and a forked tail.  I don’t remember ever seeing one on land and assume that they stayed at sea when they chose to land.  Neither do I ever recall this bird fishing for food.  What I recall of its eating habits supports the local name.  It would float in the air above the island and watch for other birds fishing and feeding in the lagoon.  When it decided to eat, it would dive at the feeding birds, frightening them into dropping their food.  The Frigate Bird would pick the food from the air and return to its high patrol to seek out its next victim.  There were times when the victim bird refused to drop the food and maneuvered desperately to evade the pirate.  On rare occasions, this was successful mostly because the maneuvering brought it very close to the surface of the lagoon where the Frigate was not comfortable.  More often, the Frigate’s dive caused more than one bird to drop its food and the pirate had a choice of menu. 

The albatross was something else, a large bird, beautiful and graceful in the air, but the clumsiest and most klutzy creature on this earth when on the ground.  When a goony decided to fly, it would face into the wind on a long stretch of ground and run frantically to develop flying speed, while vigorously flapping its very long wings.  The wind at the time of take off had much to do with the length of the gooney’s run.  There were occasions when either there was insufficient wind or the bird had not allowed itself an adequate run to permit flight.  In such instances, the bird ended in a comical upset, usually skidding on its breast and the bottom of its beak, while dragging one of its wings behind it.  The gooney is a big bird, yet I never saw one injured in a takeoff or landing mishap.  Clumsy as it was on the ground, in the air the gooney was magnificent, floating gracefully and effortlessly in long sweeps above ground and water.  Unlike the Frigate, the gooney had no fear of flying close to the ground.  When it chose to rise, it took little effort to gain altitude with those tremendous wings. 

Landing, however, was another matter.  The gooney would sweep over its planned landing site, returning to

land into the wind with a long approach, keeping just above the ground as it lost speed and was about to touch.  Then it would extend its legs, change its body position to a more vertical stance so that its wings were able to oppose the oncoming wind, and frantically flap its wings to reduce speed.  As it slowed, it would touch the ground with its legs and fall flat on its face, often rolling on the ground before coming to a complete stop.  It would then get up, shake itself, sometimes flap its wings, and waddle off to meet friends or mate.  There were good landings on occasion, but they were the exception.  I believe the wind had much to do with a successful landing.  How these very heavy birds weren’t injured during landings was always a wonder to me. 

During patrols to the west of Midway to and beyond a small-uninhabited island called Kurie, we were always on the lookout for unauthorized vessels, primarily Japanese submarines.  When American submarines went out to hunt Japanese vessels, they were provided with codebooks that had the proper identification signals for a safe return to Midway.  These codes were changed every fifteen minutes.  Approaching ships were also required to approach the island on specific courses.  This information was also changed periodically, but not as frequently.  All patrol planes carried a copy of the signal book. 

There were occasions when the return of an American or allied vessel would be delayed beyond the dates of the existing codebooks.  The reasons for delay could be many, including battle damage.  In such instances, they would not have proper, current recognition codes.  Special provisions were made to permit such vessels safe entry.  It would be a tragedy for a ship to survive combat and be sunk by defending forces from Midway due to a lack of proper recognition codes, but it was possible.

The seas around Midway teem with life, including whales, which raised another problem.  Whales swimming underwater can cause a submarine alert.  Many did, causing Midway to scramble flights to intercept the possible menace.  Daylight flights were more likely to identify a swimming whale correctly, but night flights were a different story.  There were occasional depth charge attacks against what were believed to be intruding Japanese submarines, but the possibility that the intruder was a feeding whale has to be considered.  The seas west of Midway were not a safe place for man or beast.

When aboard ship there were other specimens of sea life to view.  The most interesting were the porpoise and the flying fish.  It’s a fact of life at sea that regardless of the speed of the ship, you will always find one or more porpoises at the prow staying just ahead of the ship, leaping and diving, and leading the ship on its journey.  Why?  I don’t know, that’s a question for someone else to answer, but they are always there.  Other porpoises may swim with the ship on the flanks changing position and leader.

The flying fish, which really don’t fly, are very common in tropical waters.  During my tours in the South Pacific, there always were flying fish.  Why call them flying fish if they don’t fly?  A valid question.  These fish are very small, less than a foot in length, and have small “wings” which appear to be an outgrowth of fins.  What happens to make them fly?  They swim very close to the surface of the ocean and appear to follow the ship with their porpoise companions.  The prow wave raised by the ship or the swells naturally found on the sea cause peaks and valleys on the surface of the water.  As the fish move through the seas, they sometimes break out of the leading face of a swell and are briefly airborne until they penetrate the rear slope of the next swell.  During their brief passage between swells, their paper-thin wings cause them to glide and so they appear to be flying.

There is much more to the birds and fish in the Pacific.  It is an interesting subject and there are many sources available for a reader: books, public television and the Internet, for example.

April 2004