Subject: Fledging Murrelets
Date: Jan 13 21:34:59 1998
From: Christine Maack - 73201.3124 at compuserve.com


Richard brought up the interesting subject of how marbled
murrelets fare as they leave the nest and I thought I'd throw
in a rehab experience that adds a tiny piece to the puzzle.

The Bird Treatment & Learning Center in Anchorage received
a marbled murrelet "ball of fluff" that had been found by
loggers somewhere around Kachemak Bay after they cut
down its nest tree. We started feeding it "tuffies" (sort of like
a goldfish; pet shops sell them as feeder fish) and it inhaled
about 25 without pause. The lady who was caretaking it
went out and bought a lot more and tried to count how many
it would eat at one feeding. She lost count somewhere
around 75. The next day, almost all the down feathers had
molted off and she was greeted by a totally different looking
bird, "hard-penned" as the falconers say.

Now that I think about it, the hefty feeding might explain
this sudden molt. Penguins will go into molt if you fatten
them up (this has happened with oiled penguins in
rehab). The hefty appetite may be explained as either
normal gorging, or perhaps the chick was being weaned
off regular feedings by its parents so that it *would*
leave the nest and thus was especially hungry.

Probably in the wild, the molt would be more gradual,
and if the chicks can live on the water in down feathers,
as has been observed, they have time.

Re the comment: >Marbled Murrelets at the time of
fledging must be to some degree capable of flight and in
perhaps sustained flight over as much as 50 miles(!) through
the forest and overland to reach open water.>

I have another story, this time about common murres. There
is a nesting colony on Montague Island in Prince William
Sound and in recent years a banding station has been
operating there. Verena Day, who runs the station, saw
this colony fledge its young. Before the 1964 earthquake,
the colony was on a cliffside above water; now that same
cliffside is above a stretch of swampy land which uplifted.
I don't remember how long this stretch is, but it is what the
fledglings land on when they hop off the cliff and it is an
overnight journey for them to reach saltwater. The parent
stays within calling distance the whole time, urging them
onward as they flop and struggle through the rocks and
weeds. Life got a little harder in geologic time for that
colony, but not hard enough to put it out of business.

Chris Maack
CMaack at compuserve.com