This is a good time of year to see one of the toughest predators in North America. There are lots of them around the Alaska town of Cordova, and they like this place for the same reason humans do -- salmon. Fishermen are used to competing with seals and sea lions for fish, as well as grumpy, screaming humans flipping us off and being territorial. Everyone competes for the fish. Probably the most overlooked predator and competitor of all is also one of the most effective—the American Dipper.
These 7-1/2-inch-long, fat little birds are out there fishing right now in the cold, competing for salmon eggs, small fish, and aquatic larvae. They're locals all year round, sticking out the winter just like the rest of us who believe we deserve more fish than migrant fishermen. And they're way less offensive than a roaring sea lion ripping huge holes in your net, or some guy with a beard from Homer with twin jet drives blatantly corking your set. And they'll never flip you off.
Dippers, or "ouzels," are passerines, or perching birds, that are similar to thrushes. But Dippers are different from other passerines in the way of their aquatic life. These drab, slate gray birds live near creeks and rivers, diving underwater using their wings to "fly" while submerged. They will briefly swim on the surface paddling with unwebbed feet, and they like to perch on rocks or sticks next to the water, incessantly bobbing up and down, dipping.
There are plenty at Power Creek and out the highway by those streams that stay ice-free at Mile 18 and have silver salmon spawning in them.
When I used to trap out near Power Creek, I would see 30 or more a day. You can get within 20 feet of them before they flush with a distinctive buzzy "BZEET!" and take off on their stubby wings to their next perch, or to make a clumsy water landing. Dippers are extremely territorial, chirping and getting mad, chasing off other Dippers who get close to their "sets" along the creek. They remind me so much of human fishermen, especially some of the fat, over-talkative guys who've come over to my boat to scream at me when I drift or set too close.
A common feeding technique is to walk along the creek bottom going upstream with semi-open wings to use the turbulent force of the water to hold them down. In streams where the water is swift and a few inches deep, they will do this for a long stretch of stream, then fly back downstream to trudge their way back up, fishing and foraging underwater. A few will fly up to 1,000 feet or so in elevation, following rocky creeks.
Their feeding habits are the same whether it's well below zero and frigid, blowing 50 mph with slush, or warm and sunny. They can handle some truly brutal conditions, thanks to their adaptations. The American Dipper ranges as far north as the Brooks Range and south to Panama, without migrating.
They have an extremely slow metabolic rate for a bird of that size. Along with outstanding oxygen holding capabilities, that slow metabolism keeps the ouzel warm in winter. They also have a waterproofing gland roughly 10 times the size of other smallish birds, and constantly preen to upkeep the waterproofing oil into extra dense feathers.
When winter turns to spring they start to breed, and the nests are radical. The female will build the nest on a cliff or outcropping, hidden or exposed, within 30 feet above the water. Nests are about the size and shape of a large cantaloupe, sliced in half. Imagine this hemispheric nest, dome side up, made of moss with a 3-inch "mousehole" for an entrance. It looks like a tiny moss igloo. The interior is lined with grass and other moisture wicking material, while the moss outer layer absorbs moisture away from the eggs and chicks. Very good design.
The female will lay two to four white eggs about an inch long, which are pretty big eggs for her size. She'll sit on the eggs for more than two weeks. After hatching, the chicks will stay in the nest for three to four weeks before joining their mom at the water's edge. By summer's end, the chicks are mature enough to be ditched by mom.
At times, when I hear of people talking about how tough or resilient they think they are, I think of the Dippers. They never take a break, no matter the weather or the temperature. When I hear of people talking about how gnarly a fisherman they are, fishing in million-foot seas blah, blah, blah, I think of the Dippers. In relativity, these truly tough little Alaskans put the rest of us to shame.
Published with permission from The Cordova Times. Robert Masolini, a commercial fisherman and lifelong Cordova resident, can be reached at robertmasolini.cdv@gmail.com.