The first time I saw such a frenzy of fish breaching the water’s surface, I was kayaking on the Persian Gulf. What in the world prompted all those fish to adopt such an odd behaviour?
The next time I saw such action, I was on a fishing charter (as a non-fishing guest) on our own Main Lake. This time, Kerry Reed (of Reel Adventures Fishing Charters) explained: these are fish fleeing predatory fish; likely, they are Kokanee leaping out of the water in an attempt to escape the piscivorous Rainbow Trout. (Indeed, it is their diet of Kokanee that helps make our local Rainbow Trout so large.)
Neat! I wonder if I could take a picture it? The difficulty is that the behaviour is usually both distant and ephemeral.
On Saturday while on a beach at Procter, I again spotted a group of frenetically leaping fish. While the activity was well down the Lake, I just pointed my camera and clicked and clicked—maybe some pictures would work out. Two did—well, sort of. The distance made for rather low-resolution shots, but, they were good enough for plausible identification. Joe Thorley (of Poisson Consulting) has suggested that my pictures do indeed show Kokanee. Both the behaviour and look is characteristic of the smaller immature Kokanee during their lake phase, a time when they are silverly and somewhat trout-like in shape, albeit slightly more streamlined. Further, it is likely that the predatory fish are trout, probably large Rainbow Trout.
So, these marginal shots likely show the frenzied fleeing of Kokanee from Rainbow Trout.
Bird counting
I am not a bird counter; but, I like to hang out with those who are. These are the people whose knowledge of birds is so good that they can identify a bird by a whispered sound, a distant silhouette, or a plumage glimpse. And along the way, these folk can often determine the bird’s age and whether it has amorous intents.
These are not skills easily mastered, but when in hand, they enable practitioners to move beyond the delights of watching the behaviour of individual birds to the behaviour and health of communities. It all comes to knowing, measuring and interpreting populations.
For counters at this stage of birding nirvana, seeing a large number of distant birds is usually sufficient—even ideal. This provides sufficient information to establish identity and numbers while presenting a rich range of species. For the bird photographer such scenes can be frustrating. Without disturbing the bird, the photographer tries to get close enough to capture an evocative image including feather detail, a bill stuffed with food, or even some intimate behaviour.
Saturday, I accompanied Janice Arndt on a count of waterfowl along the West Arm of Kootenay Lake. This is an early December activity that local birders have pursued since 1974. There were three teams; Janice and I covered the east end of the Arm. We counted thirty-three bird species of which eleven were waterfowl. I learned much as I watched Janice spot and identify various species. But, I also began to appreciate the difference in the agendas of counters and photographers. Granted that on a different outing, someone might switch agendas, it remains that these pursuits are different—something I underscore with a few images from Saturday, below.
From the point of view of those taking a census, this is a perfectly satisfactory view of five horned grebes. From the photographer’s point of view, this would have been a throw-away image were it not dominated by a mirage of the Harrop Ferry.
The next two pictures of Redhead Ducks were taken on the same expedition. This is the sort of thing a bird photographer seeks. Yet, from the point of view of someone counting species, these scenes might be fun, but they offer superfluous information. It is sufficient to know that there were two female Redheads.
