Among the islands of the Lesser Antilles, Barbuda is unique. Large in area and low in elevation, this sparsely populated outpost balances on the edge of the modern era. It is perhaps the last sizeable Caribbean island to become developed and modernized. The people of Barbuda face a struggle to hold on to traditions, establish connections to the island’s cultural heritage and offer educational opportunities to the youth, all this while developing economically. These are just a few of the considerations in Barbuda’s delicate balancing act. WEEKender presents this last in a special three part series on the little-known island of Barbuda. Nearly forgotten, this sister island of Antigua has a surprising history and an uncertain future. Development on a grand scale looms on the horizon, while the rich archaeological heritage, natural resources and the population’s traditions and culture hold their ground.
A visit to Barbuda is not complete without a tour of Codrington Lagoon’s famous Frigate Bird Sanctuary. In fact, many tourists set their sights on this sparsely populated island precisely to see this stronghold of a bird that is rightly called “Magnificent.”
I had first heard about Barbuda’s Frigate Bird breeding grounds back in the early 90s, and had hoped to see it for myself even back then. I knew the fierce looking black predators only from the skies above St. Maarten, soaring high and ominous with their angular wings that rarely move. It’s a haunting black silhouette that seems a holdover from some prehistoric era.
Over the years, I had learned a few things from reading and talking with bird experts here and there. The males have a red pouch at the neck; the females are white-feathered in that area. They never land on the water, and rarely on land I had seen. And I had seen them aggressively swoop in on other birds, like gulls and pelicans, to steal their fish away. But after an hour or so with the Barbuda Frigate Bird Tour Guide named Jala, I had much more knowledge and appreciation for these amazing creatures.
The wingspan of the Magnificent Frigate Bird (this is not just a description, it’s the actual name of the species!) is a whopping 2.3 metres, or 7.5 feet, which is huge, but not the longest of any bird by a long shot (the albatross is more than 11 feet!) However, it is the largest ratio of wing area to body weight of any bird, meaning it’s a real race-car of a bird: big engine - small weight. No wonder the Frigate is able to soar for days on end, riding the currents of air.
The day of the tour arrived, and I was excited. I had suggested to some new acquaintances from New York that they were welcome to join me on the tour of the Frigate Bird Sanctuary, and they seemed curious and decided to come along. After all, they said, its only US $15 per person. We met Jala at the boat dock in Codrington Village, loaded up and roared off at a high speed across the lagoon and towards the massive Mangrove stands just across the water.
As we neared the first outpost of birds nesting in the mangrove branches, Jala cut the engine and we drifted. I began to snap photos like a crazy person. We could see chicks in nests, mom birds feeding them and male birds performing in various displays of their prowess, to impress the ladies, obviously. Some things never change!
Jala explained that the males perch on a branch and try to attract a female: “He will puff out his big gular pouch and wag it around like he’s saying, ‘hey, choose me, baby, I’m the man!’ He can make a drumming sound with that pouch, too, just in case she’s a music lover. If she likes the look of him she might land next to him and rub up against that red pouch, but sometimes she does that just to tease him, then flies off and doesn’t come back.” That’s life in the mangroves, eh?
Eventually the females choose a mate and it’s Happy Valentine Day! Love is in the air! They work together to build a nice nest, the males fetch the sticks and the females weave them together. They are monogamous for the season, producing a single egg in a nest made of mangrove sticks. Once the chick is hatched the male sits on the nest and the female brings flying fish for the baby’s meals.
Breeding season lasts from about August to March, according to Jala, and then the male takes off for parts unknown, as far away as Central America or the Galapagos, not coming back until the next fall. The females stay with the nests, hatching the chicks and caring for them for two years. That’s truly the longest duration of parental care known for any bird species in the world and it keeps the females from breeding more often than any other year. We could see those chicks, with white feathers and big eyes, poised expectantly in their homes of sticks, waiting for a meal or a nuzzle.
By this time Jala was moving us along with a pole, the boat was silent except for the sound of our camera shutters. We could hear the sound of the drumming pouches all around us. Fascinated, I asked what do they do if a hurricane should come? “When there’s a storm the babies climb deep into the mangroves and wait it out, while the adults fly away,” he said. “Some people call them Weather Birds, because there will be hundreds of them going off in a cloud before the storm hits.”
Then Jala told us why these birds never land in the water like other sea birds. “If one of the birds falls in the water, he can’t get out because those wings are not waterproof. But then two birds will swoop down to grab the one in the water and help him up to the trees again.” This sounded like a story, so I asked, “Really? Have you ever seen that yourself?” “Oh, yes,” he answered, “Many times.” And he went on to act out the manoeuvres he has witnessed, which I can’t describe in words, but I did find it convincing.
The nesting areas were marked off with buoys to keep kayaks and boats away from the animals – but we felt we were very close. My friends were amazed to be within 10 feet of these beautiful and impressive birds, showing such amazing behaviours. Jala told us the best time to see the birds is when the males arrive back and they are all so excited to see each other and they often get right down to business.
Barbuda’s beauty and remoteness offers an ideal place for the eco-tourist market. The lagoon and long, wide leeward beach seems ideal for windsurfing and kite-surfing. At present this is not being offered on the island. We noticed a few cruising sailboats anchored out and one place that rents bikes and kayaks in Codrington, but by far the biggest eco attraction in Barbuda is the Sanctuary of the Magnificent Frigate Birds. The extensive cave network in Barbuda is a draw to adventurous and highly technical travel-tourists called spelunkers! They love to explore the dark recesses of caves, using lights to illuminate the hidden spaces, sometimes finding blind fish that have never seen light! Certainly a narrow slice of the tourist pie, but a clientele that will return with friends and fellow spelunkers, with a regularity and devotion that could prove satisfying.
Barbuda holds two futures in its hands. Should it remain a remote, eco-touristic, with a small economy, but preserved natural resources and traditional cultures, or should the Barbudan people follow the route so many other islands have taken, becoming a tourist destination with mega resorts, modern lifestyles and lessened natural beauty. Climate change looms over both these futures, as the low elevations are highly threatened by sea level rise. This is their moment to consider and decide.
By Lisa Davis-Burnett
