by Roy Lukes

Cormorants


It was 33 years ago that I began photographing the lighthouses of the Door Peninsula and nearby islands. Following a clearance from the US Coast Guard headquarters in Milwaukee last week I was finally able to get to Pilot Island, a lonely, isolated, difficult-to-reach lighthouse that had eluded me for a long time.

It soon became apparent, as we approached this small island situated at the east entrance to "Death's Door," that several hundred nesting herring gulls and double-crested cormorants had taken over the island. Fortunately the beacon light in the tower there is entirely automated and powered by solar cells situated on the south roof of the old residence and light tower.

Dating back into the 1950's and 60's, double-crested cormorants, the species of the interior of the US, were becoming more and more rare on the Great Lakes to the point that they were listed as an endangered species in Wisconsin in 1973. Several factors brought about the decline of this once-abundant species, especially pesticide build-up in their prey species of fish.

Their population began to gradually rise in the late 1970's. Island nesting sites in Lake Michigan and Green Bay, including Spider Island, Gravel Island and the Strawberry Islands began to support more and more nesting pairs. So rapidly did their numbers recover that the state DNR delisted these large black birds in 1985.

It was in late September of 1992 that I estimated 4300 cormorants in one huge flock near the mouth of Moonlight Bay north of Baileys Harbor. There was often a movement of dozens of birds from the back of the slowly swimming flock to the front, much frenzied activity accompanied by splashing and flailing of wings. It was apparent that they were experiencing very good fishing.

These strange-appearing prehistoric-like creatures are the perfect example of gregarious birds. They feed, nest and roost in large groups and seldom are far from land. So large are some of their island nesting colonies that most plants, including trees, have little chance of surviving due to the heavy lime deposits from the birds' droppings. Needless to say, these are smelly places due to the excrement, regurgitated fish and offal.

The long, powerful, slender hooked beak of this bird is legendary. Commercial fishermen of this region, using pound nets to fish for whitefish, have little love for the cormorants. The birds are naturally attracted to the live-trapped fish, dive into the water, slash the fish in their unsuccessful attempts to catch the too-large prey and disfigure the fish to the point where they often are not marketable.

Along with the great quantities of fish these birds consume are those containing high levels of man-made toxins. So high does the build-up of these deadly chemicals become in their bodies that there have been observed numerous cases of nestling cormorants having grotesquely-twisted beaks as well as twisted legs and backward-facing feet.

Substantial nests of sticks, grass and seaweed are built by the birds in early summer on the ground, rocks, islands, ledges, in bushes and low trees and also on artificial man-made nesting platforms constructed during the period when these birds were considered to be endangered. From clutches of up to seven eggs, incubated for about four weeks, hatch naked chicks. They will remain in the nest for about six weeks and be flying when between six to eight weeks old.

What a beautiful sight it is to see V's or long strings of these strong fliers barely skimming the surface of the water. I have learned to be skeptical of people reporting 20 or more loons in a flock, necks barely sticking out of the water. Invariably these loons turn out to be cormorants whose flight formations, observed in low light conditions, can also be easily mistaken for geese.

The double-crested name of our Wisconsin breeding birds comes from small tufts of feathers above and back of each eye, seen on both male and female birds during breeding season. These crests are attained by birds when they are four years old. An interesting fieldmark of an adult double-crested cormorant is its orange extensible gular pouch extending behind and below the beak.

Cormorants have unusual plumage in that it is not nearly as waterproof as that of loons, ducks and geese. Having spent some time under water they head for the nearest land where they proceed to spread their wings to "dry out their sails," like wet laundry being hung out to dry.

Cormorants are "snowbirds" in that they will migrate this late fall to a warmer southern climate. Our friend, Tom Erdman, banded a nestling in the lower Green Bay area in July of 1976. The following December it was recovered in Louisiana indicating at least where some of Wisconsin's cormorants winter.

If there is a trend occurring, I suspect that the double-crested cormorant population is gradually increasing in northeastern Wisconsin. Here is a fascinating bird whose role in nature is little understood and, like many humans, appears to have a bad side as well as a good side. (But who are we to tell?) One might call it the Jekyll and Hyde of the waterbirds.


This column appeared in the Door County Advocate on 06/13/1997.
© Copyright 1997 Roy Lukes. All rights reserved.