North
As we moved east through some impressive landscapes, the terrain changed dramatically, from lush green hills and snow-capped mountain peaks to some barren rocky plateaus. As we drove to our next location, we had been alerted to an incoming Atlantic storm, which would pass over the north of Iceland and force us to wait it out for at least a couple of days. It did mean that we had an entire afternoon of beautiful weather to make the most of, before the weather took a grim turn. We decided we’d opt for some bird watching in a mountainous region which we were passing. We knew there was potential for some unusual Icelandic species up at the higher altitudes, so we began our searching. It wasn’t long before a stunning male Long Tailed Skua cruised past our car, getting us fired up. I would turn off the car’s engine and meticulously scan the area before moving further across the plateau. My attention was drawn to several Golden Plovers, which began alarm calling. Next thing a powerful bird burst over the hilltop. I zeroed in on the bird and identified it as a stunning Gyrfalcon, attempting to ambush its prey. We watched in awe as the mighty bird sailed over us with fast wing beats, heading off into the distance.
As I scanned the dull rocky horizon with my binoculars, I spotted a distant motionless white speck. I had been enjoying the wide field of view and the clarity of my Noctivids, but as the white speck turned its head, my stomach dropped and everything changed.
I knew immediately that we had stumbled across a wild SNOWY OWL! With an extremely variable population in Iceland, their presence across the country can be very unpredictable. We admired the bird from a distance, as we captured record shots. The Owl would fly long distances to exposed perches, where it could see across the landscape over hundreds of meters. I couldn’t believe our luck when it perched closer to a main gravel road, allowing for some slightly closer views.
After visiting a small colony called Grímsey á Steingrímsfirði, we moved on towards the larger populated island of Grímsey. This island is where Iceland dips its metaphorical toe into the Arctic Circle, at a latitude of 66° north. A brief stop on this island due to a storm meant we had to rush our research photography. I was, however, able to photograph some of the few GLS (Global Location Sensor) tagged Puffins in Iceland at this vital research colony. A researcher would locate the incoming birds, to warn me when a particular bird was flying out of the mist towards me. We could then attempt to discern the ring number with the photographs.
A choppy ferry ride off the island left us all looking green with seasickness. We landed back on the mainland feeling relieved, and it was time to head east. Over the week, we’d been stopping in various places so I could use the research drone to photograph some of the smaller islands from above. Many of these colonies were inaccessible even by boat.
To determine whether Puffin colonies were present on these islands as well as the colony size, my task was to set the drone off on a mapping flight. The 2000 or so photos from each drone flight could then be stitched together using research software to form a highly detailed 3D map of the islands. I spent the afternoon drone mapping several small islands for the team, as Dr Hansen and Ed would use my binoculars to keep a line of sight on the drone, which was often a fair distance from us.
East & South
Our journey continued East. Our next colony to survey was the well-known tourist hotspot Hafnarhólmi. Some vehicle issues had slowed us down that afternoon, meaning we didn’t arrive until late in the evening. By the time the research team began checking the burrows, the light was fading substantially. We tasked ourselves with trying to locate as many individuals as possible, which had been fitted with unique ID colour rings in previous years. Many Puffins were getting together in their ritualistic communal evening gatherings. In the quickly darkening conditions, I was able to easily pick out multiple Puffins with colour rings, thanks to the exceptional low light performance and image brightness of the Noctivids. There was ample contrast in the brightened image, which allowed me to read and record the letters on the rings.
The Puffin rally was nearing its end for another year, as we drove west past Iceland’s dramatic south coast vistas and glaciers. We made brief research visits to the island of Papey, and to the black sand cape of Ingólfshöfði, before arriving back in Reykjavik.
