A Royal Air Force: with beauty and grace, the world's largest seabird takes command of the sky

Animals, Wntr, 2002 by Eric Hoffman

For most people, the chances of seeing a royal albatross is slimmer than finding a needle in a haystack. With only 7,700 pairs of the northern subspecies (Diomedea epomophora sanfordi) in the world, most nesting on the remote Chatham Islands, hundreds of miles east of New Zealand, the birds live far off the beaten path. Even more remote is a southern subspecies (Diomedea epomophora epomophora) of about 7,800 pairs, which cruise Antarctic oceans.

From a photograph, an observer might easily mistake a northern royal for a common species of seagull. But get within 50 yards of one of these birds gliding overhead, and it's plain to see the royal albatross is something special. Arguably the biggest flying bird in the world, this albatross often has a wingspan of around 10 feet and, by the time it fledges, usually weighs more than 30 pounds. It is among the longest-living birds, surviving up to 60 years, a remarkable feat considering it spends 80 percent of its life fully exposed on the frigid, often stormy, open oceans of the Southern Hemisphere. For years at a time the bird eschews land, sleeping on the ocean's surface at night and hunting by day.

The royal is a long-range glider, capable of sustaining speeds of 70 miles per hour for days as it crisscrosses the ocean. For centuries mariners have marveled at how albatrosses can ride out stormy weather. On extremely long, narrow, knife-shaped wings, they can stay aloft for hours without flapping as they effortlessly trail a vessel that is being tossed about by a storm. Scientists estimate northern royals travel up to 120,000 miles annually across the Southern Pacific in search of their favorite foods, squid and cuttlefish.

Yet unbelievable grace on the wing doesn't necessarily translate to grace on land. Witnessing the clumsiness of a royal albatross as it lands in a nesting colony can be excruciating, especially if the wind drops and the inbound bird can't use its wings to brake properly. It's not uncommon for a landing to go awry and for one bird to careen into others and do a few somersaults before coming to a stop.

Royals need the wind to take flight, facing into it on land or, after running along the ocean's surface, stepping aloft off a swell. Luckily, the southern oceans are usually windswept. But when the wind abates, an albatross resting on the surface must bide its time, waiting for the next breeze before taking to the air again.

Listed as endangered in 1997 by the IUCN--World Conservation Union, the species' survival challenges come mainly from nature but also from people. Like the world's 23 other species of albatross, northern royals are under greater pressure than ever from fishing fleets. For the royals, the most damage comes from over-fishing, which has depleted their food supplies. Species that hunt farther out to sea also face significant danger from longlines. The lines, frequently baited with squid, pose a deadly attraction to the birds, which become hooked. The magnificent wandering and sooty albatrosses have been particularly hard hit.

Japanese, Taiwanese, and Korean fleets operating in open waters ignore concerns expressed by other nations. On the positive side, Australia, Brazil, Britain, Chile, France, New Zealand, and Peru signed the Agreement on the Conservation of Albatrosses and Petrels in June of this year. New longline fishing innovations and technologies required by the agreement are already proving beneficial to albatrosses. A device that releases the baited line far below the surface, for instance, keeps it out of reach of the surface-eating albatrosses. Within their territorial waters, New Zealand and Australia also enforce conservation measures, such as restricting the setting of longlines to the night hours, when albatrosses are less active. More research is needed, however, to determine which conservation strategies are most effective.

At least one factor works in the royal albatross's favor. Because northern royals stay closer to the continental shelf than other albatross species, they hunt in government-regulated waters. "It's the albatrosses that hunt outside the protected shelf areas that are especially vulnerable," says Chris Roberston, perhaps New Zealand's top albatross expert.

The struggles of the northern royal albatross might well have gone unnoticed if not for the vantage point provided by the attractive port city of Dunedin, on the South Island of New Zealand. At Taiaroa Head, on the tip of the Otago Peninsula, a colony of royals has been nurtured by the townspeople since the 1930s. This unique mainland breeding colony has a remarkable chick survival rate and serves as the only place where a person can see and appreciate the majesty and life cycle of royals. Albatross viewing, in fact, has become big business there. Last year Taiaroa Head celebrated the 144th fledging of a royal albatross since protection for the birds began in 1938. More than 35,000 visitors a year come to the specially designed viewing area to watch the huge birds perform elaborate courtship dances, build nests, brood, hatch, and raise their young.