Watching the adult albatross gaze at me with wonder fills me with deep sadness, knowing I’m taking its egg. However, I remember that without intervention, the egg would be washed away, and this chance at life eased my discomfort.
GUADALUPE ISLAND, Mexico — Every day, I work toward creating a better world. Together with my colleagues, we revitalize ecosystems once headed for disaster. A key project involves translocating the black-footed albatross from Midway Island in the United States to Guadalupe Island in Mexico. Over two days, we transport eggs in special boxes for the albatrosses in Laysan to adopt. The journey requires a delicate balance of urgency and care, stirring emotions from sadness to joy.
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When I first visited Guadalupe Island in 2006, I immediately felt its fragility. The albatross population – small and vulnerable – already lost six endemic bird species to extinction due to feral cats preying upon them.
Seeing the remains of young and adult albatrosses devastated me. Initially, our conservation efforts were defensive. We fenced areas to keep predators out. Eventually, we eradicated the feral cats to protect the island’s biodiversity.
Over the years, I witnessed Guadalupe’s remarkable recovery. Vegetation flourished, and bird populations rebounded. This transformation fueled my optimism for global environmental restoration.
We reached a pivotal moment in the restoration of the black-footed albatross. Midway Island, with its low elevation, posed a significant risk to albatrosses due to rising sea levels and intensified storms. Recognizing Guadalupe’s potential, I helped form an international alliance to translocate these birds, combining the island’s opportunity with the need to protect the albatrosses from eroding habitats.
Translocating the birds from Midway in the Papahānaumokuākea Marine Park generates a whirlwind of activity. Working alongside local colleagues who pinpoint high-risk areas, we race against time to rescue nests before the swell claims the birds overnight. At each nest, I create a dark environment with a black blanket and lamp to determine the embryo’s age, selecting eggs ready for transfer.
Watching the adult albatross gaze at me with wonder fills me with deep sadness, knowing I’m taking its egg. However, I remember that without intervention, the egg would be washed away, and this chance at life eased my discomfort.
With the eggs secured in incubator boxes, we embark on a 6,000-kilometer journey that must be completed swiftly. Safeguarding these eggs is our priority, as they carry both life and hope.
We spend our first hours on Midway waiting for nightfall so the albatrosses can safely return to their nests without interfering with the airstrip. My anxiety runs high, focused on delivering the eggs to their new families. Our first stop is Honolulu after a three-hour drive, where we leave the eggs with a colleague at Pacific Rim Conservation. Exhausted, I sleep beside them, guarding them until veterinarians arrive to check their health.
Though I feel drained, I don’t dwell on my exhaustion. I am a crucial part of this mission, so I push aside thoughts of fatigue. After a few hours of dozing, I head to the airport at 8 a.m., ready to board a flight to San Diego. Hawaiian Airlines provides us with preferential treatment, allowing us to load the incubators alongside passenger rows without delay.
The incubators rest on seats as if they are passengers—arguably the most important ones on board. Passengers glance curiously at the boxes until the captain announces over the loudspeakers, “On this flight, we are transporting endangered species to be rescued.” Applause and encouraging comments follow, and it feels gratifying to see how much people appreciate our work.
Five hours later, we arrived in San Diego. We spend the night completing extensive import and export paperwork. At dawn, the sun signals the start of our intense race. I help the team load the eggs onto a small plane that holds just two passengers and the pilot. Once everything is secure, I drive at full speed to Tijuana, aiming to reach the airport before the plane. Though we must handle the eggs with care, during this stretch, I can afford to drive more aggressively.
Arriving in Tijuana, I start the paperwork with the Mexican environmental authorities. Once the plane lands and everything checks out, we wait for a final inspection lasting about two hours before boarding a slightly larger plane. This final flight lasts an hour and a half, and through the window, I watch Guadalupe Island come into view. I smile with satisfaction, knowing this will be the new home for these chicks.
One more stretch remains—a four-hour drive on deteriorated roads. In some areas, I walk alongside the incubator boxes to ensure the eggs remain safe. Upon reaching the albatross sector, I move toward the nests we previously selected, where the adoptive parents await. We exchange the decoy eggs we left before the trip with the eggs collected from Midway. This must be done quickly and carefully.
Delicately, I approach a nest and connect with the adult albatross waiting for me. After working with these birds for so long, I mimic their vocalizations and receive a response. This “conversation” helps the albatross accept the egg I place under its belly, ensuring a smooth transition.
We usually complete the task by nightfall, ensuring the eggs are nestled with their new parents by sunrise. A week later, they hatch, seeing the sky for the first time. As they gaze up, they begin to form their mental map, solidifying their connection to this new home.
Today, I stop to observe the island and its landscapes. Each year, the island improves, motivating me and making me optimistic about the world’s ability to counteract climate change and human impact. Guadalupe Island offers hope I want to share with the world. With thoughtful actions, alliances, and strategies, nature can recover.