CRUISING WITH ORNITHOLIDAYS & CRUISES FOR NATURE.
THE WORLD DISCOVERER - “THE RING OF FIRE TOUR”

Japan, The Kuril Islands, Kamchatka, The Aleutians, The Pribilofs and Alaska

25 May – 16 June 2003

A Personal Diary by Tony Pym and Simon Boyes

Brochure

Sunday, 25 May

We gather in Heathrow Terminal 4 for the non-stop British Airways flight to Tokyo. Many re-acquaintances are made from previous tours and cruises. We take off on time and spend 11 hours in the air, over Estonia, Siberia (north of Lake Baikal) and eventually descending into Narita Airport.

Monday, 26 May

In a sense it is an overnight flight, but as our routing is so far north, the sun never stops shining on the port side. We land on time at 09.10 - we are now eight hours ahead of BST.

Entry formalities and luggage collection are quick and easy, and soon we are aboard our coach. With us are Chris Cook, birding guide now resident in Tokyo, and Mr Uoshi, ground agent. Luckily there is time for a legstretch and exploration of Yatsu Higata Park on the way to Haneda Airport. In cool, cloudy conditions, we look over an area of tidal mudflats. Waders are dotted here and there, and with the help of three scopes, we find many species of special interest. Among a small group of Great Knot are a few Red-necked Stints, well into breeding plumage. A Mongolian Plover feeds on the far side with two Kentish Plovers. Right in front of us are Grey-tailed Tattlers, both in breeding and winter plumage. The only duck is a Spotbill at close range. A noisy Oriental Reed Warbler appears in the reeds below us, while a family of Azure-winged Magpies give good views behind us. Also seen from the coach as we press on are Brown-eared Bulbul, Grey Starling and Asian House Martin. A brief look at Tokyo birds, but a good one! We see plenty of industrial estates, but no temples or other points of note along the way, except a number of the famously efficient bullet trains, (all parked).

At Haneda Airport we check-in for the Kushiro flight, and enjoy a good meal in one of the many airport restaurants. Haneda, though principally the domestic airport, seems larger and busier than Narita. The 90-minute flight (with ANA, or All Nippon Airways) is in an almost empty 767. Immediately we are struck by the late season: we are at 43°N, (the same as Northern Spain!), and yet most of the broadleaved trees are still leafless. Cherry trees are in pink blossom, and the air is chilly. Within a mile of the airport, we see a pair of Hokkaido's most famed and beautiful bird: Red-crowned Cranes, feeding in a small marsh beside the road. Many Latham's Snipe are perched on poles or display-flighting along the road into town, Slaty-backed Gulls are a common sight, nesting on the rooftops outside the hotel. Just before 18.00 we arrive at the Hotel Ana, (run by the airline), where the rooms are very comfortable.

There is time to unpack and bath, before dinner in a restaurant across the road. An earth tremor shakes the hotel for a few seconds. Mr Uoshi offers bottles of Italian wine to go with the meal. Fresh fish is on the table, for us to barbecue as we like: Peter emerges as head-chef. There are vegetables, seafoods, miso soup, ice cream and strawberries: a real welcome dinner!

Tuesday, 27 May

After breakfast from a well-stocked buffet, we set out to the east on a misty morning. The seafront at Akkeshi has Greater Scaup, and Black-tailed Gull to compare with the abundant Slaty-backs. Oriental Greenfinches put in a brief appearance on a grassy bank, and a Black-backed Wagtail shows startling white wings in flight. Chris and Uoshi-san buy our picnic lunches at a supermarket. The gardens still have daffodils in flower.

We make for the Kiritappu Marshes, and stop at a viewpoint. A single Red-crowned Crane is feeding at the water's edge below us, and a few Sika Deer bound away into cover. At the visitor centre, there is plenty of activity in the woodland edge. Olive-backed Pipit display-flighting, Siberian Stonechats and a Brown Flycatcher all give good views. An Eastern Crowned Warbler is busy in the canopy, and there are brief views (for the lucky ones) of Japanese Grosbeak and Hawfinch.

Since it is good weather for brass monkeys, we decide to have our picnic in the spacious coach. Most of the group are adventurous trying out a variety of Japanese delicacies, but there are sandwiches and biscuits on hand for the others. The afternoon walk skirts along the edge of the marsh. Japanese Bush Warbler is heard everywhere, including a short, rich phrase that gives its nickname of Japanese nightingale. The star bird of the walk is Long-tailed Rosefinch, which gives us all fine views, and there are plenty of Black-faced Buntings. One or two lucky ones at the front see the Japanese Robin, out in the open, that Chris points out. This is a usually a real skulker in dense undergrowth, with the orange not confined to the breast as in "our" robin, but all over the head. A Wryneck calls up on the hill, and a Black-browed Reed Warbler appears in a bush in the marsh. Plants that attract attention include butterbur and skunk-cabbage, white Trillium and various sizes of Primula.

Luckily visibility has been good while we have been in the field, but on the journey back the fog descends again. Dinner is a pasta spectacular, with eight different dishes brought one after the other. We catch up with our sightings by doing a two-day checklist.

Wednesday, 28 May

Daylight begins early here: 03.30 according to reliable reports. It gets dark about 19.00. As we breakfast, fog turns magically to sunshine. We leave the Hotel Ana at 08.00, with all our luggage, bound for the Akan National Park, north of Kushiro.

First stop is at Lake Takkobu, in perfect conditions: what a change from the wintry day yesterday. As we walk along the lakeshore road, birdsong is loud. Siberian Rubythroat (a beauty!) and Black-browed Reed Warbler stay put in the scopes. Commonest species, with dominant songs, are Black-faced Bunting and Eastern Crowned Warbler. Chris points out the squeaky-gate song of Sakhalin Leaf Warbler, and in due course a few give reasonable views. The back is brown, as opposed to the green of the Eastern Crowned. Out on the water are several drake Falcated Duck and one drake Smew among the Goosander. Both swifts appear together: the Pacific, with white rump and forked tail, and the more heavily built White-throated Needletail. This interesting swift nests in dead trees, and has a habit of closing its wings and losing height while cruising powerfully through the sky.

We take a coffee break at the nearby Hoosaka visitor centre, which has a magnificent view over the extensive marshes where the cranes can sometimes be seen. The woodlands are alive with cuckoo song, both the familiar Eurasian one and the deeper Hoopoe-like tones of the Oriental. Great Spotted Woodpecker and Nuthatch are here too, at the far eastern edge of their enormous ranges. Japanese White-eyes and Bush Warblers give brief views, but restlessly move on.

Retracing our route along Lake Takkobu, an adult White-tailed Eagle causes a mass exodus from the coach. Flying above us, it has to take evasive action from a Large-billed Crow. Careful scanning reveals two more adults, perched around the shore. A Whooper Swan flies right past us, a late migrant that perhaps was not strong enough to depart with its mates.

Pressing on with the journey, we pass our closest crane yet, feeding on another lakeshore. The road passes through a beautiful lake district, further enhanced by the warm sunshine. The picnic spot overlooks a crater lake: in fact, a flooded caldera. It will be remembered for its obliging Bush Warbler, but not for its solitude. Groups of Japanese tourists take turns at being photographed with the lake behind them: this is the Windermere of Hokkaido. There is also an Asiatic Chipmunk being hand-fed.

Next stop along our magical mystery tour is at Iousan, a geologically active mountain with many volcanic steam vents. Terry, familiar with such phenomena in Iceland, leads a group to inspect them at closer quarters. A Japanese Wagtail gives a frustratingly brief view. Another stroll through dwarf pine and Azalea reveals Oriental Greenfinch in colourful display flight, and two Rufous Turtle Doves. Further on, the undulating landscape opens out into potato fields and woodland edge. Here a Bull-headed Shrike puts in a brief appearance.

The last part of the journey is in the Akan National Park, along a twisty mountain road through mature mixed forest with Sika Deer in view. At 18.15 we arrive at the lakeside resort and our base for tonight, the New Akan Hotel. The huge, open-plan lobby-cum-dining room is bustling with other cruise passengers and Japanese guests. Many of them - men and women alike - are wearing spotted yukatas (cotton robes) - provided in each room. Here we meet the last four in our group, who join us after their own explorations on Honshu.

The buffet is huge and well stocked with all kinds of Japanese food. Afterwards, Tony outlines plans for tomorrow, and we call the log. On the top floor is a huge hot baths area, filled with naturally hot water from the geothermal activity. Chris and I enjoy a relaxing soak (with several Japanese guests) before bed.

Thursday, 29 May

After breakfast we visit Lake Onneto, a scenic spot with forest and mountain reflections in the turquoise waters. Mandarin Duck eventually give good views to all after sterling work by the beaters (Steve and Ashley) who ensure that three males swim into view of the scopes. These are the real Mandarins, neither escaped nor introduced! Here is also a Siberian Blue Robin, which some of the group are able to look down upon, as it perches between road and lakeside.

The surrounding forest is quiet for birding, in the warm sunshine. But we enjoy a walk to a series of small waterfalls (of warm water) admiring the diversity of the mixed forest. Among the most obvious trees are maple, hornbeam, rowan, birch, fir and flowering Viburnum. Sakhalin Leaf Warbler shows well, and Red-flanked Bluetail is heard in two places. Peter finds a Jay of the rufous-headed Hokkaido subspecies. By the waterfalls Tony comes across a non-venomous snake, but we only know its Japanese name.

Passing a hungry Red Fox by the roadside hoping for hand-outs, we stop in Akan to buy more drinks and picnic supplies. Lunch picnic is at the Observation Centre overlooking Kushiro Marsh, where a Large-billed Crow repeatedly flies off with huge quantities of surplus rice - it is amazing it can still take off after many visits. One last walk before heading off for the cruise produces a pair of Japanese Pygmy Woodpecker, and three Latham’s Snipe display-flighting. It is interesting to note that instead of drumming, the males vocalize with a sound like air rushing from a tyre under pressure. Gabrielle also finds a shy Grey-headed Woodpecker, and Steve comes up with a Red-cheeked Myna, a bird of open country.

We arrive at the World Discoverer in good time at 16.30. She is a magnificent vessel, and we have a warm welcome from the staff as we board. At this point we say farewell to Chris and Uochi-san, who have worked hard for us over the last four days. We find our comfortable cabins and attend a safety briefing before a buffet dinner. We set sail promptly, heading north-east. A hundred or so Leach's Petrels fly alongside the starboard side in the darkness, coming into the light enough to make out white rumps. They give whistling contact calls. We have our own welcome on board meeting, in which Tony and I provide glasses of wine, and try to help the group orientate to the ship and life on board. Tonight we leave Japanese waters and put our watches forward two hours, (now BST +10).

Friday, 30 May

We are formally admitted to Russia in the early morning. There is thick fog and a strong wind welcoming us to the Kurils: well, nobody booked this cruise for the sunny weather! Yet after lunch, suddenly, fog lifts, clouds part: here comes sunshine, and a wonderful backdrop of volcanoes. Rhinoceros Auklets and Tufted Puffins are the first seabirds to be seen, flying in small groups. A great shout goes up as a Spectacled Guillemot appears, a rare and local auk, all black but for white spectacles and red legs. In the next half-hour, several fly past, offering fine views to all on the forward decks. We have stumbled upon a breeding area by chance, as an anchor problem has forced us to seek a sheltered bay. It seems that early this morning a length of discarded cable fouled the anchor when the Russian immigration officers came aboard at Kunashir Island.

Tufted Puffin

We are offered a landing while the crew clear the anchor. As the scout boat goes ashore to assess conditions, ten White-tailed Eagles take to the air together. The bloated carcass of a Steller’s Sea Lion on the beach is the reason for this amazing gathering. One flies overhead shortly after we are all ashore. Behind the beach, the terrain is almost impossible for walking, which prevents any exploration of a promising wooded valley. Pacific Swifts fly over, and Oriental Greenfinches feed on the valley floor. A Black-backed Wagtail is on the beach. Ann puts us onto a Brown Thrush behind the landing beach: this Kuril Islands breeder is closely related to the American Robin, and has a similar colour scheme. The captain observes that as soon as the shore is clear of zodiacs and people, the eagles return to their meal.

We sail north, through the sunny evening, passing the perfect cone of a 1,600m volcano to starboard. Tonight's delicious dinner has an Italian theme, and is served as always with complimentary wine and beer.

Saturday, 31 May

Sperm Whales are on our starboard side in the early morning. We see the bushy, forward-facing blow and the great size, indicating that they are adult males. The females stay in warmer waters with the calves.

As we cruise past the island of Chernye Bratya, the sea and sky are filled with seabirds. Huge numbers of Northern Fulmars, of the dark morph, sit on the sea and fly past the cabin windows. With them are Short-tailed Shearwaters, Tufted Puffins and Kittiwakes. Crested Auklets fly up from the bows, small and dark, and fly past in dense flocks. Among them are a few Whiskered Auklets, much less common and usually associated with riptides. Red-faced Cormorants begin to appear too, and Pigeon Guillemots, of the subspecies snowi, with no white in the wing. For two hours the seabirding is spectacular, with a backdrop of rugged volcanic scenery and smoking fumaroles at one point. Steller’s Sea Lions can be seen in a pack in the water, staring nervously at the ship; and two huge males are hauled out on a rock. The weather conditions change constantly, with periods of sunny calm alternating with fog patches and blasts of fierce wind.

Tufted Puffin

During lunch, a small pod of Orcas passes by, visible to many of the passengers without moving from their seats. The male's huge dorsal fin can be seen from a great distance. In the afternoon we have a zodiac tour round the sheltered side of Ostrova Broutona, a small island with an enormous colony of Fulmars occupying every nook and cranny. Below them are Kittiwakes paired up on their grassy nests. Pigeon Guillemots and Harbour Seals allow approach close enough to photograph: even to fill frames in some cases. A White-tailed Eagle flies over and settles on a steep slope. Harlequins are a regular sight, either flying low and fast, or diving in the kelp beds. One zodiac is lucky enough to see a Long-toed Stint on a rocky shore. We see golden, scaly back and yellow legs before it flies out of sight. Two Pelagic Cormorants, with thin necks and dark bills, perch on rocks. The great swell makes the transfer from zodiac to sidegate quite a hazardous experience. But the abiding memory will be a sky filled with thousands of milling Fulmars.

Tonight is the Captain's Welcome Party and the magnificent Captain's Dinner: a six-course meal with wine-glasses topped up all the time.

Sunday, 1 June

After breakfast we have a zodiac cruise along the shore of Ketoy Island, in calm, cloudy and mild conditions: in fact, excellent weather for the Kurils. It is easy to hear Wrens singing along the shore, and indeed some are seen as we try to find a Siberian Rubythroat that keeps disappearing behind rocks. In the end two of our three zodiacs see it well, just behind the beach. An Eastern Crowned Warbler is also feeding on huge boulders above the beach. Black-backed Wagtails are a common sight, flying with white wings like a Snow Bunting. Nutcrackers are flying high above the scrub, a surprise habitat for them as there are no conifers in sight. (Later, Cam Kepler - the ship's ornithologist - tells me that there is a forest of stone pine on the plateau of Kepoy, beyond our view). A Rough-legged Buzzard flies along the lofty crags, past its nest built of sticks on a ledge. Other raptors are only seen by a few of us: a distant White-tailed Eagle, and a Peregrine of the dark subspecies peliae.

As for marine life, Harlequins are again a regular sight along the kelp-beds close inshore, and there is an easily photographable Red-faced Cormorant colony. Harbour Seals put heads and long whiskers out of the water to watch us; another is hauled out on a rock.

As we set off for Yankicha Island, a Sperm Whale appears but soon sounds, with an impressive display of its huge tail-flukes. There are three in all: two very close to the ship. When they have dived deep for another squid dinner, we know we will not see them for 20 minutes or more - so we press on. Yankicha is shrouded in fog and strong wind, unfit for landing zodiacs. But this doesn't dismay us, since we have come to the world's centre of breeding Whiskered Auklets. This is one of the rarest of the Pacific Alcidae, nesting on Yankicha's cliffs and feeding in the tidal currents. Luckily their feeding grounds offshore have clear visibility, and so we spend half an hour slowly cruising through thousands of these fascinating little seabirds. They have a wacky punk hairstyle, with drooping feathers pointing forwards over their bills. This feature they share with the larger Crested Auklet (which is also here in much smaller numbers): but the Whiskered has three white plumes on the head, and a pale undertail. As they fly they make a high-pitched mewing call. Also here are Tufted Puffins, all-black Pigeon Guillemots, and the inevitable Fulmars.

As we continue our stately progress up the Kuril chain, hundreds of Crested Auklets fly up from the misty bows. Peter Matthiesson, the author, gives a lecture on tigers - only a Zen master could get away with talking about tigers in the Kurils! Afterwards, the Crested Auklet count grows fast: thousands can be seen (at once) in one flock lifting off from the bows.

Instead of Yankicha, we have a landing at Mashua Island, where possibly no birding has ever been done before. There are plenty of old military remains, dating first from the Second World War when it was occupied by the Japanese. After the bombing of Nagasaki, the Russians occupied this desolate spot until six years ago. Before we leave the ship, we watch a Steller’s Sea Eagle perched on a rock on shore. This huge raptor with its great orange bill is a bird we all especially wanted to see. On a patch of snow nearby, a White-tailed Eagle feeds on some prey at its feet.

Once on shore, we explore with a sense of being pioneers. Rubythroats are common along the shore, some singing, and others just arrived on migration and busily feeding. A male Narcissus Flycatcher, in bright yellow and black plumage, is also tired and feeding on insects on the track ahead of us, between the dwarf alder bushes. A Rough-legged Buzzard calls as it flies over the ridge. When Brian scopes the eagle on the snow, the Steller’s has replaced the White-tail. As we watch, out of nowhere stoops an angry Gyrfalcon onto the eagle. After two attacks, it flies out over the sea and the ship, to an offshore island, where we lose it among the seabirds. Ducks along the shore are mainly Harlequins, but there are Teal and Goldeneye too.

The Russians have left a great deal of military equipment lying about: old oil-cans, vehicles, pontoons, and piles of spent bullets. Now the alder scrub is reclaiming the place, which is just changing from winter to spring. It is amazing that we are at 47° N, the same latitude as Milan and Venice, and yet the leaves are not yet on the trees in June. We return for dinner after another great day in the remote Kurils.

After dinner, Tony finds a Leach’s Petrel on deck, disorientated by the lights in the fog. He rescues it, shows it to us at the log-call, and releases it into the darkness. Ashley and Steve have picked up two of the heavy steel helmets on shore, and present them (with a military ceremony) to Kommanders Pymski and Simonov.

Monday, 2 June

Fog prevents our zodiac cruise at Skaly Lovuski, where we hoped to float in among sea lions, fur seals and auklets. As we head north, Fork-tailed Storm Petrels become more regular: grey and prion-like as a first impression, with their erratic flight. Two schools of Dall's Porpoise visit the ship, and ride the bow-wave for a short while.

Laysan Albatross

There are lectures during the morning: first a botanical one that has uproarious laughter coming out of the Discovery Lounge; then one by Cam Kepler entitled "Wings over Arctic Waters." Between the two, the first Laysan Albatross flies along the port side, where all the birders are congregating, sheltering from the wind. A few Ancient Murrelets appear, at rest on the sea. The black and white head pattern is different from anything else we have seen. Just before lunch, a pod of Orcas passes alongside the ship, allowing brilliant views as they synchronize their surfacing for air.

The afternoon landing is at Nima Bay on Onekotan Island. As Steve and Gill leave the ship, a Red-throated Pipit flies over them. In cold and windy conditions, we land on a black sand beach close to a river mouth. The river is shallow enough to ford. Black-backed Wagtails and Buff-bellied Pipits are numerous, and a few Teal and Wigeon are flying about too. Up on the plateau, at first the botany is more interesting than the birding, with only Skylarks and Reed Buntings being obvious. Pines grow to less than a metre, and dwarf rhododendrons are budding. After most of the group have come down the hill, Jeremy and Gabrielle see a Japanese Grey Bunting which some other birders have found. There are two Long-toed Stints along the stream, including one at the mouth, which feeds on the green algae-covered rocks. When we are all thoroughly chilled and ready for a hot drink, the zodiacs return us to the warmth and comfort of our floating hotel.

Tuesday, 3 June

At Paramushir, it is not fog but strong winds that foil our landing. This is a large, inhabited island with bears. As we steam north to Atlasova, sea-watching is pleasant as the strong winds have abated. A Laysan Albatross crosses the bows with about sixty passengers watching. Among the auks, most are Tufted Puffins, with a few Crested Auklets and Brunnich’s Guillemots. One White-billed Diver - sometimes referred to as "the bananabill" - flies over the ship. There are regular single Fork-tailed Storm Petrels, and one Leach's.

In late morning we are anchored off Atlasova, with its snow-covered volcano, the highest in the Kurils, visible for a while. There is a gulag here, an abandoned prison for Russian women who (according to one story) committed the ‘crime’ of practising Christianity. For a while there are problems embarking the zodiacs in the strong winds, which seem to be associated with the islands, rather than the open sea.

Laysan Albatross

But we still have time for three hours ashore, to explore an area of lakes, scrub and hillside. Siberian Rubythroats are in good song, and several are seen, usually on the ground, as it is too windy for them to perch up and sing. Two Brown Thrushes feed on the hillside above us: at last, good scope views for all. On the lakes are Greater Scaup, Eurasian Wigeon, and one Mandarin drake, which is a surprise in the Kurils. By going to the final lake near the gulag, Steve finds Falcated Duck too.

Best of all, a shout goes up for Asian Rosy Finch, a fine male feeding on the edge of a patch of snow up on the hill. Five of us are there to watch it, as most of the group are already back on board. A Peregrine comes over, and the Captain sounds the ship's siren to call us back, as the wind is rising.

During dinner we head between Paramushir and Shumshu Islands, in a narrow strait. We hoped for a zodiac cruise in the Ptichy Islands, which are little more than rocks; but a force 7 wind spoils that idea. Here is a Sea Otter stronghold, and we watch over 100 of these engaging animals, as they lie on their backs. Some have young alongside them, and they all watch us as we pass. One Pomarine Skua crosses the bows, and a few Ancient Murrelets fly up from the water. The wind howls outside, but the ship handles superbly, with its stabilizer fins. The movement on board is comfortable for all the passengers.

Wednesday, 4 June

At breakfast we are at anchor off Utashud Island, with Sea Otters round the ship, and two Steller's Sea Eagles flying over. Once the zodiacs are launched for a cruise, the eagles disappear, but the otters bob up and regard us with curiosity. Occasionally they can be seen in more relaxed mode, lying on their backs. Harbour Seals watch us too, both from the water and hauled out on a stony spit. The island is a small, steep one, with nesting space for hundreds of Slaty-backed Gulls, and various auks. Above the gulls, the grassy slopes make perfect burrowing grounds for hundreds of pairs of Tufted Puffins. They are constantly whirring above us in flight, and can be seen perched at the entrances, like black-suited sentries. Pigeon Guillemots, here with the usual wing-patch, are no longer the all-black subspecies of the southern Kurils. A few Horned Puffins put in a first appearance, flying into steeper cliffs for their nesting sites. Brunnich's Guillemots have a small colony too. The low cloud and mist turns to rain and hail, and those of us still out on the zodiacs are pelted by icy crystals.

Within an hour of departing, the weather changes totally, and we cruise north (now along the Kamchatka coast) in lovely sunshine. Nearby is Vestnik Bay, on the Kamchatka mainland, but our planned landing there is ruled out by swell. Snowy volcanoes, far inland, are clear to the top. There is a northward migration of Black-throated Divers, which overtake us at regular intervals; likewise one small flock each of Greater Scaup and Eurasian Wigeon.

As the sun warms us, we have a wonderful hour with sightings of five of the most wanted birds and mammals, from the various decks. Within three or four miles of coastline we have Steller’s Sea Lions hauled out on rocks ahead of us, including enormous, thick-necked bulls. On a pinnacle of the stack above them a pair of Steller’s Sea Eagles have an eyrie. One sails round the sky, while the other attends the nest. Orcas patrol the shoreline in menacing manner. Three Brown Bears are seen, two dark and one blond, on the hillside near the eagles. They are invisible when in the bushes, but they cross the snow-fields and give themselves away. Round the corner a second Steller's eyrie comes into view, occupied. As we sail into the next bay, Turkhurka, another bear with three cubs scampers up the mountain slope. Sea Otters approach the ship and seem more at ease than at Utashud. For future reference, this stretch of coast with its wonderful wildlife is either side of Russkaya Bay.

We make a landing at Turkhurka Bay, and walk on snow in a wild and remote valley. Yellow Wagtails have just arrived, and fly up with a buzzier call than we are used to in Europe. Three more bears cross snow-fields on the mountainside above us: ten in a few miles of coast. A third Steller’s eyrie has one bird sitting, and the other standing heraldically on the next pinnacle: three eyries in the same short stretch. A Eurasian Cuckoo sings, but that is one of the few signs of spring. It is a very late season. There are Harlequins in the bay, and Goosander fly downstream, but we feel that most migrants are yet to arrive.

As we return to the ship after a sunny afternoon outside, another fine dinner awaits us. The wintry Kamchatka coastal scenery, with its perfectly shaped volcanoes, makes a perfect backdrop to dinner as we head north.

Thursday, 5 June

Fog spoils the morning, or (according to your point of view) gives a welcome opportunity to rest, send e-mails, etc. Long-billed Murrelets with brown backs rise from the bows, and Pomarine Skuas head north. As we anchor at the Little Chazma River in late morning, its potential becomes obvious. There is a wide bay with many Black Scoter and Greater Scaup in the shallows. Both Black-throated and Red-throated Divers are about: Red-throated mostly on the water, and Black-throated flying north. A pair of Steller’s Sea Eagles fly past the ship and one lands on the closest hilltop.

Once we go ashore, the group splits into two. Tony goes inland to look for passerine migrants, and comes across Olive-backed and Red-throated Pipits. Willow Ptarmigan fly across the birch and alder scrub; and along a marshy section, they put up Long-toed Stint. Red-necked Phalaropes and a Wood Sandpiper feed in a grassy bog.

We keep to the shore, and come across a Brent Goose of the dark American subspecies offshore, with many Pintail, Wigeon and Harlequin. The Red-breasted Mergansers look wonderful in breeding plumage. There are huge bear footprints in the sand. Anne finds us a pair of Asian Rosy Finches, feeding along the snow-line: they become a point of interest for some of the other birders. The last half of our walk reveals a group of 44 Red-throated Divers, all pairing up and displaying near the mouth of the Chazma River. This is a magical, wild place with any amount of potential for interesting birds to turn up in. As we leave to board the zodiacs, we have a choice of viewing: a close Steller’s Sea Eagle up on the crags, half-filling the scopes, or two Grey-tailed Tattlers on the offshore rocks.

We return to the ship for another delicious dinner.

Friday, 6 June

We are anchored off the mouth of the Zhupanova River on a calm and bright morning. We are lucky to see the panorama of summits free of cloud. There are pairs of Long-billed Murrelets on the glassy water; but attention is drawn to the horizon. There is one volcano erupting ash as we watch, Karimski. It is the only mountain that looks black, as there is no snow on the lava-heated slopes. The black ash alternates with puffs of white smoke and steam: here is a very angry volcano! Ring of Fire is a good description of this area: did we not begin with an earth tremor in Hokkaido?

The zodiacs drop us off on the bank of the Zhupanova River. A Common Rosefinch greets us with a cheery ‘pleased to see you.’ As we climb the hill into the mature birchwoods, a Steller’s Sea Eagle perches on a bush below us, regal in the scopes. Olive-backed Pipit is the commonest bird, and there are views of Rustic Bunting and Grey-streaked Flycatcher. A Rough-legged Buzzard passes over, ghostly pale against the blue sky. There is not much snow left on the ground now, and plenty of new life for the botanists to study, including the Trillium which will carpet the forest floor in white flowers in a week or two. Now the sun is fully out, and we enjoy a perfect afternoon, with temperatures up to 13°C.

Most of us return to lunch aboard, then split for the afternoon. Our two zodiacs (with Cam and me aboard) cruise the channels of the Zhupanova River. The tern colony at the mouth is at the courtship stage: all are Common Terns of the black-billed eastern subspecies longipennis. Sergei, the Russian Mr Fixit, steers the lead zodiac, and shows us two occupied Steller’s Sea Eagle nests in mature birches on the river banks. They are only a mile apart at most. Red-throated Divers rise up from the river, where (as at Chazma) they are pairing off and courting. Suddenly a huge white raptor appears, chased by crows. At first the impression is Snowy Owl, but it turns out to be an almost white Goshawk, a peculiarity of Eastern Siberia - so white that at first we believe it to be a pale morph Gyrfalcon. Each time it flies the crows chase it relentlessly. Shortly afterwards, a Hobby (tiny by comparison) flies over the zodiacs.

Heading back to the ship, we pass a Greenshank, a close Cuckoo that calls its name at us, and one of the Steller's Eagles returning to its eyrie. Not far from our course, we see a pair of Long-billed Murrelets on the calm waters of the bay. Tea and cakes are a welcome pleasure to return to: especially for those who take them out on deck into the warm sunshine.

Meanwhile, Tony's party has to work hard, finding little at first in the tundra that lies between the river and the hill. But patience is rewarded by Brown Flycatcher, Arctic Warbler and Pechora Pipit display-flighting all at the same spot. The pipit lands on a bush, showing its white tram-lines, and sings its insect-like song.

Gabrielle, Brian and John have chosen to spend the whole day at this magic place with a picnic lunch. In addition to the other sightings we have seen, they can add Osprey, Japanese Grey Bunting, Taiga and Siberian Flycatchers to the list. Before we leave, there is a panic on the bridge when Lars Jonsson is discovered to be missing!  He would be a match for any bear with his great stature and huge tripod, but the expedition team is glad when he safely appears.

In the Recap session, Alan discusses the decline in Sea Otters, and Cam explains why Tufted Puffins can’t take off from our bows but paddle along powerlessly. After dinner we compile the checklist for the last two days, and watch a magnificent sunset behind another panorama of volcanoes. About the same time 20 Red-necked Phalaropes fly off from the bows, and a Russian submarine surfaces off the port side.

Saturday, 7 June

At breakfast we are alongside the quay in Petropavlovsk: a nice change from zodiacs and life-vests. It is a beautiful, cloudless morning, with the sun yet to rise above the hills. We are soon on shore, with seven of our group opting for a day in the field, while the others have a morning in the city and join us in the afternoon. The city tour visits the museum, a church recently built, a department store and some of the city's statues.

The field group travels in a bus that takes us to Sergei's kennels, where he keeps 35 husky dogs. He is hoping to enter them for an international competition next year. This is our base, for a barbecue lunch, a show of Koryak dancing, and for woodland walks morning and afternoon. The birchwoods are about to burst into leaf. They are home to Taiga Flycatcher, which we see at the nest hole, with two pairs disputing ownership. This was formerly regarded as the eastern subspecies of Red-breasted, but the red on the throat is much reduced. One of the confusions brought about by its new name is that it sounds like an orange, striped flycatcher that roars! Taiga, pronounced ‘tiger’, is in fact the vast belt of Siberian birch and spruce forest that lies immediately south of tundra. Rustic Buntings, Siberian Rubythroats and Common Rosefinches are in good voice in these perfect weather conditions, and give us good views during the morning. On the edge of a marsh a reeling song, like a Grasshopper Warbler's but slower, can only mean Lanceolated Warbler: it takes us 20 minutes to find, but Tony puts us onto it. Then, for a long time, we admire this skulker for several more minutes. At least when singing these secretive Locustella warblers do show themselves.

The barbecue of pork and salmon, with salads, soft drinks and local beers is enjoyed while the Koryaks dance and mime. They are the original inhabitants of Kamchatka, related to the Mongolians and Inuits. Sergei the entrepreneur has set up a shop for souvenirs too.

On the way back, John and Jeremy see two Little Gulls, an unusual species so far east. By 16.00 we are back on board, after an episode on the muddy road in which one bus is temporarily bogged up to the axle. It takes an age for the customs officers to clear us, but we are all happy drinking tea on deck in the sunshine. We cast off, for Attu (our first port of call in the U.S.A.), at 19.00. Tonight's dinner is a Russian one, and there is a birthday cake for Anne.

Sunday, 8 June (the first one)

All day we are at sea, with no land in sight, steaming east to Attu. Mottled Petrels become a regular sight during the morning, in their non-breeding quarters after a long migration from islands off New Zealand. Laysan Albatrosses can be seen in the wake. Passerines fly over the ship, wind-blown and lost. First is a Redpoll, then Brambling and Taiga Flycatcher. The flycatcher spends time perched on the pool deck, resting.

After lunch, a Hawfinch flies over the ship – we don’t usually think of them as migrants - and an Arctic Skua cruises in our wake. Later on, a Yellow Wagtail passes by, and a Long-tailed Skua flies down the starboard side. There are a few Fork-tailed Storm Petrels, and the Mottled Petrel count reaches 70 or so, often flying steadily above the horizon, but sometimes shearing and towering. But for many of the passengers it is a day to read, relax, doze and go to lectures. Robert Bateman's 'Nature through an Artist’s Eye' is especially well received.

Tonight we cross the International Date Line, and so we gain a day. We'll have Sunday, 8 June all over again! This ‘gain’ comes about as follows: we ‘lost’ eight hours flying to Japan, and will ‘lose’ nine hours more between Alaska and London (- one between Anchorage and Seattle; eight between Seattle and London). That leaves seven hours of time changes at regular intervals during the cruise.

Sunday, 8 June (the second one)

Short-tailed Albatross is the buzzword this morning, from the moment when one passes close enough to the ship to be identified and called on the p.a. system. There is a dropping of toast and spilling of tea in the dining room as everyone stampedes towards the decks, but the late arrivals miss it. This rare albatross has a world population of only about one thousand.

As we approach Attu, Ancient Murrelets become more frequent, and two Minke Whales break the surface. We anchor in Massacre Bay and watch many Common Eiders and one White-billed Diver along the shore. This is the most westerly part of the U.S.A, an ideal island for those who "need" Asian vagrants for their U.S.A. lists; so the landing here is eagerly awaited.

The ship is in close contact with the U.S. customs and immigration officials who are being flown here in a charter plane to clear us in. On the final half-hour of their flight they hit storms they dare not fly through. To our disappointment the Attu landing is cancelled; we will be cleared in at Adak Island, further east along the Aleutian chain, tomorrow night. As we leave the anchorage, two skeins of the local Canada Geese fly past. They are of the small, endangered Aleutian subspecies leucopareia. Kittlitz’s Murrelets, with golden backs and white in the tail, lift up from the bows, one or two close enough for good views. Ancient Murrelets often dive only when the ship is almost upon them.

All day the Glaucous-winged Gulls have been following us. They have completely taken over from the Slaty-backed Gulls of Russia and Japan. The Laysan Albatross count grows steadily to over 100 for the day. There is an ongoing debate: are there a few Sooty Shearwaters among the numerous Short-tailed? Sooties are larger and longer-billed, but not by much. Can we be absolutely sure of any definite Sooties? Some passengers are claiming them, but our approach is cautious. While Tony and I are happy for people to put down what they like on their own lists, Sooty does not appear in the official tour checklist. When three Baird’s Beaked Whales are spotted, the ship turns a circle to show more people. Sperm Whales appear regularly during the afternoon, including one straight in front of our bows.

Dinner is riotous, as a Black-footed Albatross is in the wake during soup, and in the middle of the main course, not one but two Short-tailed Albatrosses are seen, first off the bows. News soon spreads to the diners, who leave a bewildered staff and empty tables. One passes right down the port side, but they quickly disappear. So the day ends as it begins: with meal-time shouts for one of the world’s rarest and most sought-after seabirds.

Monday, 9 June

At Sirius Point, on Kiska Island, there is a huge colony of Least and Crested Auklets. We pass by early today, and despite foggy conditions, we can see huge flocks of these tiny seabirds on the sea and in whirring flight. The Least Auklet, at six and a quarter inches, is the world’s smallest seabird, and feeds on plankton. Some passengers have a view of a Bald Eagle perched on a pinnacle, and of a Red-legged Kittiwake, but most of the time they are hidden in the mist.

During the morning the fog clears, and two faithful Laysan Albatrosses follow in the wake for an hour or more. It is wonderful to have an open bridge, where we can always watch our progress and check temperature and wind-speed. When the charts show deep water, the birding is quiet, with only a few Fulmars and the occasional Tufted Puffin about. But at midday we pass Semisopochnoi Island to starboard, and an area marked Petrel Bank on the charts. Suddenly the sea is full of Least Auklets and smaller numbers of Crested Auklets, now in perfect visibility. They rise from the bows and form flocks like swarms of bees. Those with keen hearing can make out their twittering above the steady whirr of the engines. As soon as deep water returns, we lose the auklets, but there are distant Sperm Whales taking advantage of the underwater shelf.

The afternoon passes agreeably, as it is mild enough to relax on the stern deck, especially when the sun comes out. There are thousands more auklets (mostly Least), plus an occasional Pomarine Skua and Parakeet Auklet. Lars Jonsson gives a memorable talk about his life and work before another fine dinner. As darkness falls, we arrive at Adak Island, where we are formally cleared into the U.S.A.  The officials come on board to check us individually.

Tuesday, 10 June

Seawatching is lively this morning as we steam north-north-east from Adak to the Pribilofs. The most dramatic increase is in Fork-tailed Storm Petrels, which are constantly visible. The daily total must be thousands. Often their feet can be seen pattering on the water as they seek their planktonic breakfast. In among them are occasional Leach's, appearing blacker, and more direct and purposeful in flight. Tufted Puffins are common all day, with occasional Horned Puffins turning up too. Sue is lucky enough to see a Fin Whale, which appears only briefly: as may be expected from the "greyhound of the seas".

During the afternoon Tony and I brief the group about tomorrow's activities on St Pauls, the principal Pribilof island, and the only one we visit. As we talk over our plans in the sunshine on the stern deck, two Red-legged Kittiwakes keep us company, an adult and an immature. They are elegant and tern-like in flight, and the immature lacks the black tail-tip and W on the wings.

Wednesday, 11 June

The sea is calm and the sky bright for our arrival at St Pauls, the larger of the two Pribilofs. We anchor just outside the harbour, and from deck we can see all the excitement and activity of seabird cliff colonies of alcids. Parakeet Auklets are on the glassy water and flying past in pairs, along with both Brunnich's and Common Guillemots, Tufted and Horned Puffins. There are rafts of dark Crested Auklets, and Least Auklets whirring past in swarms. The Fulmars, all coffee-coloured at the start of the voyage, are increasingly pale at this higher latitude.

The zodiacs take us to a low jetty in the harbour, so we have no need for wellies! We can all choose our footwear for a day's walking, very welcome after our days at sea. Most of the group head off for the fur seal colony at the south-east corner of the island, at Reef Point. There are views of all of these auks close by on the rocks and small cliffs: the Least especially approachable on a boulder beach. The fur seals are mostly young males, grunting and roaring and eagerly awaiting the arrival of the females.

In the village Grey-crowned Rosy Finches are common as sparrows, much larger and brighter than the Asian birds we saw last week. The King Eider Hotel acts as a coffee, convenience and backpack stop throughout the day. It is well named, since only two minutes' walk away is a fine drake, at first standing on the sandy beach, and later swimming out towards a group of Harlequins. Red-faced Cormorants fly over and fish in the bay. By Salt Lagoon a pair of Semi-palmated Plovers are on territory, and Arctic Foxes chase the kittiwakes that are loafing on a sand-spit. Their coats are variable in colour, but mostly dark; a few are ginger or blond. Compared with our Red Fox they are small and delicate.

The other recommended activity is to take the shuttle buses that have been organized for us to Ridge Wall, a long but comparatively low range of cliffs thronged with seabirds. Here most of us enjoy our picnic lunches in the sunshine: a rare event in the Pribilofs, which are not renowned for good weather. We can look down on all seven auk species, and more too. Black-legged Kittiwakes have untidy grass nests, and among them one pair of Red-legged Kittiwakes are putting the finishing touches to their neater one. Darker mantle and shorter bill are easy to compare with their commoner relative. Lapland Buntings serenade us with a tuneful song-phrase as they parachute down to the treeless heathland. The botanists are happy too, with blue lupins, yellow rock-rose and Potentilla, and Alaska Poppies already in flower, to name only a few. Some of the shuttle-buses see Rock Sandpipers on the way: they nest on the tundra here, and have a beautiful hovering display-flight. These cliffs are a great spot to rest and catch the sun, while taking in the comings and goings of the seabirds. Thousands of auks are also at rest on the sea below the cliffs.

Eventually it is time to head back to the village, where the church, gift shops and even a supermarket make popular stops. In early evening we are back on board, with the sun still shining. In the Observation Lounge we have the Ornitholidays drinks party, with visits from the Captain, Conrad and Michelle the expedition leaders, and Terry the Canadian botanist. With champagne and canapés, (not to mention the wine at dinner), everyone enjoys an especially sociable evening.

Thursday, 12 June

The sea is like a mirror through the night, making for a deep sleep for us all. Glaucous Gulls are now following the ship, instead of Glaucous-winged. Their all-white wings are admired by all passengers. Now we are too far north for albatross, storm petrel or shearwater. We anchor off Hall Island in mid-morning, and have time on deck while the first half of the passengers have a zodiac cruise. A Rock Sandpiper flies close over the bows, and thousands of auks fly past.

Passengers arriving back from the first zodiac cruise as we are about to set out describe the experience as the best hour of the tour, both for birds and scenery. Sure enough, our zodiac cruise is magnificent, with many of the seabirds swimming alongside each boat, especially Pigeon Guillemots. They occupy the boulders near the shore in their hundreds. Above them are Tufted Puffins, burrowing in grassy slopes. There are tens of thousands of pale morph Fulmars too, wheeling around the sky and nesting, with Glaucous Gulls in among them. McKay's Buntings fly over the slopes like snowflakes, whiter still than Snow Buntings. They are endemic breeders to four Bering Sea islands, and migrate to Alaska in the winter. The cliff scenery is just as impressive as the birds. The vast cliffs by Elephant Rock have ledges of guillemots (Common and Brunnich’s), packed against each other like sardines.

During lunch we move round to nearby St Matthew Island and anchor off a large bay, with a tundra hinterland behind. The island is 30 miles long but uninhabited, and is the headquarters for the McKay’s Bunting. As soon as we land we see plenty of them, pure white males and females with streaked backs. Tony leads one half of our group up one valley, while my route is gentler. While Tony finds Grey-crowned Rosy Finches, we come across a series of small pools where phalaropes are swimming. There are five Red-necked, and a single male Grey, in its red breeding plumage. It would have been good to see its much brighter red partner, who initiates courtship and has nothing to do with family duties after egg-laying. It is wonderful to watch both species together, only a few feet from us as we lie on the grassy bank. A pair of Long-tailed Skuas fly over, and have a nest in the tundra beyond the phalarope pools. Long-tailed Duck are establishing territory on other small ponds, and allow a close approach. Rock Sandpipers are nesting all over the tundra, with males display-flighting and raising a single wing. Part of their song is borrowed from the Dunlin, like quietly screeching brakes. Both groups find a nest with a complete clutch of four large, mottled eggs. The flora is beautiful too, including mauve orchid-like lousewort, and a similarly-coloured Primula.

Suddenly on the marine band radios which we carry comes a call that an Emperor Goose has been seen on a lake, an hour’s walk beyond where we are. A twitch! Yomping over spongy tundra and bog, we just have time. The goose is swimming on the lake, showing grey body and pale neck: a rare bird, here seen in a wonderfully remote spot. We are back on the landing beach at 20.05, only five minutes after the time arranged for the last zodiac. Everyone has had a great day on these remote, rarely visited islands - as we can tell by the volume of conversation at dinner.

Friday, 13 June

As we head towards Gambell, Gerald, Ashley and John have a look round the engine room by special request. At the same time many of us go to the auction of Robert Bateman's and Lars Jonsson's artwork, mostly done during the voyage. All their paintings go for several thousand dollars, with the highest price for a small painting of a family of Red-crowned Cranes: this fetches $12,500. Proceeds go to the International Crane Foundation: a total of $46,400.

After a briefing about tomorrow’s disembarkation, we anchor off Gambell, the Yupik settlement at the north-west corner of St Lawrence Island. After early fog, we have a superb sunny day, and clear views over to the snowy Siberian Chukchi Peninsula, 38 miles away. It is a tough walk over shingle to the north-west point of the island, a renowned sea-watching spot. Auklets are streaming north in flocks, mostly Crested, with many guillemots in with them - both Common and Brunnich’s. This is the only place where we have seen more Horned than Tufted Puffins. Five Sandhill Cranes fly right over us, heading directly for Siberia. A friendly Grey Whale comes drifting past us, only a few metres offshore. This species loves shallow water, but this seems a dangerous strategy here, given the Yupiks’ traditional whale-hunting. Ducks are represented by Goosander and Common Eider; and before we left the ship King Eiders too. After an hour or so, Lars shouts "Spectacled Eider!" as a young male flies past, and quickly out of sight. Luckily it is soon relocated at the landing site, and many passengers hire the quad-bikes which the Yupiks use as taxis to reach the bird more quickly. Luckily it gives lengthy views - a rare and declining bird with a restricted range.

Many people take a walk or ride round the village, with its grim boneyards, of Bowhead Whale and Walrus. The Yupiks are closer relatives of the Chukchis than the Aleuts. Most of their protein comes from whale, walrus and seal meat. Cruise days must be important for the local economy. The American passengers are seeking Siberian vagrants to add to their U.S. lists, but not much is about: only White and Yellow Wagtails. As we set off for Nome, on a beautiful sunny and calm evening, Grey Whales appear around the ship.

This evening we pack, and enjoy the Captain’s farewell party and dinner, when all the chefs are introduced, and Baked Alaskas are carried in with ceremonial candles blazing.

Saturday, 14 June

We arrive at Nome Port at 06.30, while we are having a final breakfast on board. Since Kushiro, we have voyaged 3,988 statute miles. Soon afterwards, with many fond farewells to crew and staff, we disembark, to spend a day in Nome. A big yellow school-bus is home for the day, driven by Warren, who is a mine of information about this unusual place. It is a remote gold-rush town, where gold was first discovered in 1898, on the beach and inland. After two or three years, Nome had a population of 25,000. It is a great place for coastal and tundra birding too, with an emphasis on waders.

Just south-east of town on the Safety Sound road, we make a first stop at an old gold-dredge that has been preserved. Western Sandpipers feed almost at our feet, and three American sparrow species sing in the low willow and birch scrub: White-crowned, Savannah and the less expected Tree. Brian, searching for raptors, finds a Moose with two calves. At the bridge over the Nome River, a lone Snow Goose is a good find: it is far west of its usual migration routes. Red-throated Divers swim in the estuary and fly over cackling. Waders here range in size from Least Sandpiper to Bar-tailed Godwit.

We are scanning pools (finding Red Fox, Tundra Swan and American Wigeon), when our mammal-spotter Brian scores again: this time with a herd of Musk Oxen up on a hillside. There are seven lying down, and a fine old male with shaggy coat and pale, spindly legs. A little further on, Sandhill Cranes graze on the left, while on the right is a close Long-tailed Skua. An Arctic Redpoll perches on a rock in the tundra: its Common cousin is also here, mostly in more scrubby habitats.

The picnic lunch spot is just beyond the bridge at Safety Sound. A Semi-palmated Sandpiper perches by the bus as we step out. A brave pair of Lapland Buntings continue feeding their young in a nest under a tussock, even while we are sitting four metres away. A Pacific Diver in full summer plumage is out on the lagoon, and looks exquisite in the scopes. A pair of Arctic Skuas are on territory too, one dark and one of the pale morph. It is a brilliant day for a picnic: cloudless and unusually warm for Nome.

Lapland Bunting

At this point we turn back, and make a stop at mile 17 to look for Black Turnstone, but without luck. The tundra flora is beginning to bloom: notably creeping Azalea and a white Anemone. Half of the group continue on the bus back into town, to look round the museum and absorb the gold-rush atmosphere. The rest of us strike out across boggy tundra by the Nome River, to see the Golden Plovers more closely: are they Pacific or American? Good scope views of the males reveal both species, which overlap as breeding birds in West Alaska. They have different calls and plumage on flank and undertail. There is also a mixed tern colony: both Aleutian and Arctic together in the scope. The Aleutians have a chirruping, lark-like call, quite different from the more familiar Arctic notes.

At 17.00 we meet up in town to drive the short distance to the airport to check in for the Anchorage flight. Once we have boarding passes, there is time to return to town to eat. By ordering earlier, we have quick service and a filling meal at Fat Freddy's, with sea views. The freshly caught halibut is especially popular. There is time for a checklist as we sit outside in the warm sunshine. Back at the airport, security is strict: we even have to remove our shoes for the x-ray machine. The evening Anchorage flight is 80 minutes late, with Alaska Airlines on a 737. Below us is the meandering Yukon River, and on the left is the peak of Mount McKinley, North America’s highest mountain. By the time we have retrieved our luggage and taken shuttle buses and taxis to the Inlet Tower Suites, it is midnight, but still light enough for some to see a Moose and calf in the suburbs. Some of the group are not returning with us to Heathrow, and at various points tonight and tomorrow, we say our farewells to them.

Sunday, 15 June

There is an opportunity to sleep in a little, as breakfast is arranged for 08.45. But the restless few opt for an early walk to the Westchester Lagoon, on a damp and mild morning. Black-billed Magpie is the commonest bird: now split from our similar Eurasian species. Certainly the long, harsh, Nutcracker-like hunger calls of the young are very different from those that wake me up at home. Otherwise, the prosperous and leafy suburbs reveal only Dark-eyed Junco and Black-capped Chickadee as a light rain falls, but by the time we reach the lagoon, it has dried up. Out on the water are many pairs of Red-necked Grebe, one standing on a floating nest. One island is populated with breeding Mew Gulls, plus a few visitors: Short-billed Dowitchers and Hudsonian Godwits in superb breeding plumage. Suddenly chaos ensues as an adult Bald Eagle flies over and scatters gulls and waders in all directions. Three times it passes over the lake, perhaps interested in the Canada goslings scattered over the shores. As we return for breakfast, a Downy Woodpecker climbs a telegraph pole in front of us.

Three shuttle buses take us to the airport for the 12.06 Alaskan Airlines flight to Seattle. Luggage is x-rayed and tagged directly through to London. Warning to future travellers from the States: the x-rays used for checked-in cases damage photographic film!  The islands off Vancouver look magnificent in the summer sunshine. Mount Rainier, our final snow-capped volcanic cone, continues the theme of ‘Ring of Fire’ to the very end.  We land 20 minutes early, in good time to collect boarding passes for the British Airways flight to Heathrow. The London flight is full, and takes off at 18.40. With the eight-hour time-change to BST, we are immediately into.......

Monday, 16 June

It is almost a nine-hour flight to Heathrow, over Churchill and endless expanses of magnificent North Canadian tundra in the half-light between day and night. The routing is over Southern Greenland, Kintyre and Manchester: we land at a hot and sunny Heathrow 20 minutes early. And so we complete our amazing journey round the Northern Hemisphere. In the baggage hall we say final farewells, with many happy memories of our epic voyage.  

Tony Pym and Simon Boyes
Ornitholidays
29, Straight Mile,
Romsey,
Hampshire,
SO51 9BB
Tel: 01794-519445
E-mail: Ornitholidays@compuserve.com
June, 2003

Our next cruise to the ‘Ring of Fire’ on the World Discoverer will be from the 29 May to 20 June 2004 and will be led by Richard Coomber.  Prices start from £5,999.00.

Itinerary and Weather: see Extract of Ship’s Logbook for cruise days.

Before cruise:

After cruise:

© Ornitholidays

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