Jacobsbaai’s most elegant winter residents.
Every year in May, dozens of rare guests arrive like clockwork in Jacobsbaai from the far south. They don’t check into a guesthouse and don’t post to social media. They simply appear out of the blue. They are Antarctic terns (Sterna vittata).
Hallmarked as celebrities, they’re well-travelled and elegantly dressed. In a village accustomed to human visitors in flip-flops and linen shirts, the tern cuts a dashing figure: pale grey-white body, a black cap and a refined red beak. It glides over the Atlantic with the composure of someone who’s seen far worse seas and much colder mornings. Which, of course, it has. Up close, the details sharpen: bright red legs like exclamation marks, wings built for distance and plumage that shifts with the seasons.
This remarkable bird spends its breeding season in the wind-scoured Antarctic Peninsula, as well as various sub-Antarctic and Southern Ocean islands (including South Africa’s Marion and Prince Edward Islands) from November to April. There, it raises its young in lively colonies. On rocky ground and ice-free margins, it builds shallow scrapes in sand or rock crevices, sometimes lined with small stones or shells. Both parents share incubation duties.
For creatures so slight in appearance, they’re staunch defenders during breeding season: dive-bombing intruders with a courage that borders on theatrical.
Longevity adds another layer to their mystique. They can live for 20 or even 30 years in the wild—an impressive lifespan for a seabird.
Year after year, when the southern winter tightens its grip in late-April, the Antarctic tern takes off and travels north: crossing oceans and weather systems over about 2 280 km. Sustained flight over oceans is not for the faint-winged. But the tern carries this exertion lightly. Streamlined bodies and long, tapered wings allow for continuous gliding. In truth, it’s an extraordinary feat of stamina and navigation.
With a punctuality that would shame most airlines, the terns arrive in Jacobsbaai. And, as can be expected, birdwatchers also turn up in droves with binoculars and high anticipation because the Antarctic tern is considered rare. Not only that, but its populations are vulnerable to the pressures of habitat disturbance and environmental change. In the nutrient-rich upwelling zones of Jacobsbaai, they get the food they need, as well as ideal conditions for moult and energy-recovery. Conservation efforts here aim to keep it that way, ensuring that the tern’s annual visit doesn’t become a memory or a footnote.
Around 10 000 individuals visit South African shores. The biggest roosts are on Bird Island, Dyer Island and Dassen Island, while mainland roosts typically host fewer than 900 birds.
Hunting with precise diving, the Antarctic tern plucks small fish, crustaceans and marine invertebrates from the water with surgical accuracy. Spending its days in motion, in flocks or alone, it threads the air above the surf with a confidence born of long familiarity with wind and wave. Outside the breeding season, they’re ever so sociable, often seen in loose gatherings along the coast, foraging and wheeling together.
And then, just like that—almost before we’ve quite grown used to them—they take off in October without so much as an adieu 😥.
With thanks to Alex Aitkenhead (alexaitkenhead.co.za) for the stunning photo and the mine of information. Further reference: faansiepeacock.com
