Far from home, albatross is coaxed back to the skies

FALMOUTH -- It took 30 minutes or so to get used to the idea of freedom.

After weeks of care at the Tufts School of Veterinary Medicine -- and then a long, bumpy ride in the back of a van driven by wildlife doctor Flo Tseng -- the yellow-nosed albatross, thousands of miles from its true home, waddled warily yesterday from a dog carrier box onto the rain-spattered sands of Old Silver Beach.

The onshore breeze was stiff, carrying the whiff of salt and seaweed.

The bird, a native of distant southern waters and quite possibly the only albatross living in the North Atlantic, stared stonily at the green waves crashing against a rock jetty. Then it settled into what looked to be a position for a long sulk or even a snooze. Oh, no! Something close to panic gripped the small clutch of onlookers, most of whom had invested lots of energy, time, and, yes, passion bringing the storm-battered wayfarer back to health. But was it still too weak to fly?

"The bird's rattled, that's all," insisted Paul Sievert, a conservation biologist with the US Geological Survey, who had rigged the albatross with a 1.6-ounce satellite transmitter. "It's just rattled and doesn't want to be rushed."

"Poor thing," said Tseng's 8-year-old daughter, Catherine Rose.

Suddenly, the albatross spread its 6 1/2-foot span of wings to achieve "lift" from the wind. It was airborne in an instant, veering sharply down coast, harried by seagulls and scolding crows.

"It's flying like a good healthy albatross should fly!" exclaimed Sievert.

Tseng, shedding her professional detachment for just a moment, cried a fervent wish for the creature restored to vigor in the clinic: "Oh, good luck, honey! Oh, good luck to you!"

But the bird was now just a dot on the horizon. The bird was gone.

The pelagic bird's wanderings will be tracked by biologists and bird fanciers over the next few months. The transmitter attached to its back feathers with ultraviolet-resistant duct tape and Teflon ribbon will beam its bearings every day to satellite receivers, until the batteries wear out or molting rids the bird of the $3,000 device donated by Habit Research, a Canadian company. Eventually, a website will be established so the public can follow the bird.

The coordinates will be downloaded into Sievert's computer. The biologist has studied albatrosses off Japan and elsewhere for 20 years. But New England's yellow-nosed albatross is special.

"This bird's a mystery on wings," he said. "No one knows how it got to North America. Did it lose its sense of direction and fly here on its own? Or was it swept across the equator by some strange storm?"

There was no real thought of returning the bird to its native waters between South America and South Africa. That was partly because of cost, but mainly because no one is sure how long this vagabond has lived in northern waters.

There has been a spate of highly unusual albatross sightings off Cape Cod and Maine in the past few years. Some biologists believe it is a single stray -- probably this one -- being spotted again and again. But there are also bird specialists who believe that several yellow-nosed albatrosses have made their way north.

The hope, then, is that this particular yellow-nosed might discover others of its ilk, find love, and perhaps produce the first North American albatross colony in 400,000 years.

"There's no natural reason why the birds shouldn't thrive in our waters, if they can get here in numbers enough," said Tom French, head of the endangered species program of the Massachusetts Division of Fisheries and Wildlife. "That would be the biggest bird story of the century."

Albatrosses are famous rovers, often flying 2,000 miles or more for a sup of squid. All that keeps them from migrating to the North Atlantic, scientist believe, are the equatorial doldrums -- large stretches of windless seas that form an all but impregnable barrier to a bird that rides wind currents for days at a time and even sleeps while coursing the air.

The yellow-nosed albatross breeds only on Tristan da Cunha and a few nearby islands, specks of land in the far South Atlantic whose claim to fame is being the most remote archipelago on earth. The pelagic birds come ashore only to raise chicks.

New England's yellow-nosed Albatross was found dazed and emaciated on April 28 in a cow pasture behind the home of Shelley and Ryan Coite in Cape Neddick, Maine.

"It looked like an oversized seagull. It walked like a clumsy duck," said Shelley Coite. "My husband said, 'That's an albatross!' I'd never heard of such a bird."

Ryan Coite explained his bird-identification acuity: "I'd happened to see a documentary about albatrosses on the Discovery Channel not too long ago. Albatrosses were on my mind."

Because the creature seemed distressed and unable to fly, the Coites contacted the Center for Wildlife, also in Cape Neddick, which treats seabirds, mammals, and other creatures that come to harm.

The albatross was weak and malnourished, but otherwise not injured. Nutrient fluids were forced down its throat for a day or two. Then it graduated to a slurry of easy-to-digest food. "Finally, it swallowed silversides and capelin, which made us feel better," said Laurel Caldwell, an animal rehabilitator at the center.

The center turned the bird over to the Tufts Wildlife Clinic in North Grafton, Mass., which boasts one of the country's most sophisticated treatment facilities for wild animals, including a good-sized mesh-enclosed seabird pool in a climate-controlled room.

At Tufts, the albatross at first refused to eat and started losing weight. The clinic resorted to inventive measures, injecting air into pieces of very fresh fish -- donated by Worcester's AP Fish company -- so that they would float more appetizingly (to an albatross) on the water.

"Blood work and fecal analysis indicated the bird wasn't sick" said Tseng. "The bird was a picky, picky eater. Turning up its beak at squid, until finally we started feeding fancier kinds of fish."

Late last week, the albatross was snarfing chunks of halibut, salmon, and cod flung by veterinary student Jennifer Hall. The seabird's weight had doubled, to a healthier 4.2 pounds.

Neither Tseng nor Sievert have determined the bird's age or gender.

Albatrosses, like parrots, can live into their 50s and beyond. This one is an adult. You can tell by the yellow streak on its beak (juveniles have black beaks).

As for gender, plumage of both sexes is identical, so even specialists cannot easily tell whether the creature is "he" or "she." Such determination would take DNA analysis or complex measurements of skull and bill. And no one wants to put the wanderer under a battery of tests. "The idea is to save the bird, not stress the bird any more than it is already stressed," said Simon Perkins, field ornithologist for the Massachusetts Audubon Society. "We want this albatross back riding the wind and water -- where it belongs."

Biologists quibble over the exact number of albatross species, but 21 is the generally accepted figure. Of these, 19 are ranked as endangered -- including Thalassarche chlororhynchos , scientific name for the yellow-nosed.

Tseng described the feeling of watching her feathery former patient take to the skies. "It's bittersweet," she said. "I'm thrilled to see it fly. I'm anxious about how it will fare back in the wild. I'm grateful to have had the chance to work with such a magnificent bird."