Happy New Year From the U.S. Navy: Albatross Eggs Find New Homes on Kaua’i

By Hob Osterlund, Safina Center Fellow

Robby hands a fertile egg back to Leilani. Photo: Hob Osterlund

A female Laysan albatross builds her nest near the edge of a ravine. Behind her nest is a steep drop-off to a lively stream maybe thirty feet below. Upstream is a bridge that crosses over volcanic boulders and a small but picturesque waterfall. The spot is peaceful, out of view of human activity, a place where a pair of birds can quietly go about the business of incubating their egg for the required two months. 

She and her mate—collectively known as “Pu’u Moms”—have chosen this exact spot to nest each season for several years. Their name comes from Puʻu, one of their chicks who became well-known to the public when the colony was live-streamed to the public via a Cornell “TrossCam.” 

And this year, as in previous seasons, a December day comes when they are sudden stars in the cast of a five-minute play.

The first act starts when several people appear at the top of their little slope. Two of them—a man and a woman from Pacific Rim Conservation (PRC) based on Oʻahu—bushwhack their way to the nests through knee-deep vegetation. 

Some members of the 2020 egg swap team. Photo: Hob Osterlund

Leilani Fowlke gently touches the incubating mom on her chest with the back of a clipboard. The bird dutifully stands. Leilani scoops up the egg and hands it to Robby Kohley. He slips a black cloth over his head and upper torso—creating a portable darkroom—then examines the egg with a small-beam flashlight. Fertility can usually be determined within a few seconds. A fertile egg has an embryo, and often a “spider” of blood vessels.

Leilani Fowlke removes an egg for fertility testing. Photo: Hob Osterlund

“No good,” he says, and sets the egg aside. It is infertile. 

Robby Kohley in his portable darkroom for egg “candling.” Photo: Hob Osterlund

Since the Pu’u moms are both females, there is a second egg to examine. It’s slightly outside the nest. Robby declares it, “Fertile but dead,” which means one of the females has had an intimate (and literal) minute with a male. But when the girls decided which one to keep warm, they inadvertently chose the infertile one. 

Then comes the next act. A fertile albatross egg is removed from its soft foam packing inside a blue cooler and delivered downslope to Leilani.  “Number 19,” she says aloud, and the number is dutifully documented, along with the date it was collected.

Albatross eggs transported in a cooler. Photo: Hob Osterlund

Where, you might ask, would a person get fertile mōlī eggs for such adoptions? The question was answered more than a decade ago when the U.S. Navy command at the Pacific Missile Range Facility (PMRF) on the west side of Kauaʻi decided it was no longer safe to allow albatross nesting on the base. The key concern was the potential for bird-aircraft collisions.  

After the eggs are collected at PMRF, they are put in an incubator and later “candled,” in a way not dissimilar from Robbyʻs field technique. On a specified date each year, the eggs are packed up and delivered to approved properties on north shore of Kauai. All this is done through the cooperation of the U.S. Navy, PMRF and other federal agencies as well as the Hawaiʻi State Department of Land and Natural Resources, PRC, Kauaʻi Albatross Network and private landowners. 

Back to the five-minute play and its denouement at the nest: Leilani slides egg #19 under the Puʻu mom, who looks down at her new progeny. She squeaks a quiet eek-eek-eek, and settles on it right as rain. You took my baby and gave me a new one? Iʻm good with that. Zero resistance. 

Laysan albatross parent awaits egg return. Photo: Hob Osterlund

Because of this avian-human teamwork, there could be fifteen additional albatross chicks who fledge from the cliffs of Kauaʻi in 2021. May it be so.