Grebe Reed Dance: Is this the most romantic Valentine gesture ever?

It's Valentine’s Day soon. Perhaps you’ll buy a card, choose a bunch of flowers or reserve a table for two to show your loved one you care. For most courting birds, however, such gestures would not be nearly enough to woo a suitor.

Pairs of great crested grebes need to be congratulated for putting in the most effort in this department. Their courtship dance is surely the most elaborate of any bird on the British Isles. For them, courting is multi-staged and unfolds over a number of weeks. It involves carefully choreographed displays of head shaking, diving, ritualised preening, some serious feather fluffing as well as a finale of the well-known but seldom seen ‘reed dance’.

 

Great Crested Grebes, painted by Robert E Fuller

In Olympic terms, their display would deserve a silver medal, bettered perhaps only by that of the delightful bower birds of Australia and possibly narrowly pipping the South American manakins to the post. Yet, whilst for the other two contenders it is the male alone who leads the dance, the grebe’s courtship is performed equally by both partners. The courtship begins in January when both male and female transform their plumage from a drab off-white and muddy matte brown to his-and-hers matching breeding finery. Their heads are adorned with a double crest and orange and black ruff. Their dazzling white faces set off a glinting ruby eye. It’s difficult, but not impossible to distinguish the male from the female. The male’s crest is fractionally more magnificent and his body slightly larger. 

Large lakes can accommodate quite a number of grebes and as they start to divide into pairs, they carve out territories and draw invisible boundaries on the water’s surface. Competition for the best fishing and nesting sites is fierce. But once resolved the elaborate courtship can begin. I watched a pair of grebes for a week one February and was rewarded with a magnificent display. First, the male caught three small fish and ate them whole. Then, he caught a huge nine inch one which he gleefully presented to his mate. He was showing her that he could easily provide for her and their family together, given the chance.

She was clearly impressed with this engagement present and to my amazement swallowed the fish whole. She had found her match. Simultaneously they turned to face each other, held their heads high and, with their crests and facial ruffs erect and extended, started to wave their heads from side to side repeatedly. As one bird looked one way the other looked in the opposite direction with precision timing as if they were too timid to look each other in the eye.

This ‘face-off’ dancing went on for nearly a minute and was followed by ritualistic preening. Each bird took turns to select a long feather from their back and extend it out to the side in a perfect arch, as if casually grooming. The synchronisation was so perfect that it was almost as if they were working as one.

The courtship process was intense. Often, a fishing break was required in the midst of the proceedings or time out taken to patrol the boundaries. If the male spotted any other grebe on his patch, he swam towards it like a guided missile; head and face flush to the water. At the last moment he flew above the surface, paddling, splashing and generally making as much noise as possible in order to be seen both by the intruder and his own mate. Sometimes, he decided on a cunning surprise attack diving down and then grabbing the bewildered intruder from below.

This aggression is mainly directed at sub-adult grebes; only these younger ones would be naïve enough to enter another’s arena. However, it is not only directed at their own species. As I watched, the grebe cunningly dived below a pair of Canada geese and began viciously assaulting them. He kept pecking the geese hard with his razor sharp beak until they had no option but to swim ashore and seek refuge on dry land. It was hilarious to watch these large birds, who are often the playground bullies of the waterways, leaping up and down from the water’s surface in fright.

Smug in the knowledge that his lady had watched the entire episode, the grebe headed back to her. As he approached he dived down just below the water’s surface, creating an impressive bow wave from which he emerged, just as it broke, by her side. Talk about cool!

Duly impressed by his antics, she greeted him with wings splayed, head held back and calling, as if she were cheering. He went one better and finished his performance with an upright dance, effortlessly treading water in front of her. More head-wagging and preening continued throughout the day. But just as I was about to pack up the moment I had been waiting for; the crowning glory of the water courtship commenced – the reed dance at last.

The grebes swam away from each other and dived down simultaneously only to reappear on the surface at the same time. The male was holding a clump of weed plucked from the bottom of the lake and I had my camera poised. The female, I noticed, had been distracted while she was under and had caught a fish. The male rushed towards her, weed to the ready, his head and neck low in the water. Then he too realised that she was holding a fish in her beak and not the clump of weed he was hoping for. He dropped his weed instantly, almost embarrassed that he had misread the situation. 

It was night fall by this time and I packed up and returned the following morning at dawn, weighed down with cameras, tripod and flask. Just as I reached the edge of the lake I noticed the full reed dance being performed right in front of me. The climax of the prenuptials involved both birds treading water bolt upright breast to breast with beaks full of weed whilst also shaking their heads from side to side. It was over in a flurry and unfortunately my camera was still in my bag.

I cursed myself, if only I had walked faster or not spent so long over breakfast. You have to be patient to see the full courtship of a great crested grebe, but you need a bit of luck to photograph it too. Grebes don’t mate for life so they may well be reed dancing with someone new next year. A season of devotion brings no guarantees, in spite of all their effort.

The reed dance only lasts for a few seconds but it something that will stay in my memory forever.

Galapagos Allure

To mark Valentine’s Day, this year I’m exhibiting a painting of a giant tortoise from the Galapagos Islands named Super Diego. Super Diego is more than 100 years old and is said to be so virile that he alone is responsible for bringing his sub-species back from the brink of extinction. There were just 14 saddle back Espanola tortoises left in the world when Super Diego was introduced to a scientific breeding programme in the Galapagos in 1977. At the time, two males were struggling to breed with the 12 females that together made up the entire Espanola population.

But Super Diego had no such difficulties. As a last ditch effort to save the species, he was shipped to the Pacific archipelago from a zoo in San Diego, California, where he had been living since the 1930s. So potent is the genetic strain he contributed to the breeding programme, he is said to have sired an estimated 1,700 baby tortoises ever since. Now that is some work!  His portrait, shown below, is on display in my gallery in Thixendale this week.

I painted it after watching Super Diego in 2014 slowly swagger about his accommodation at the Darwin Foundation Centre on Santa Cruz Island, where he continues to perform for his species to this day. It was fascinating to see him. The Espanola tortoise has a shell shaped like a saddle and beneath the sweeping pommel is a gap which allows this particular subspecies of giant tortoise to stretch its neck up to browse on low lying branches. Whilst I was watching Super Diego, a keeper walked into his enclosure and the tortoise raised himself to his full height in surprise. Standing high on his legs with his neck stretched up his reach was easily six feet.

My trip to the Galapagos Islands, which lie 600 miles off the coast of Ecuador, involved observing some of the world’s most unique animals embark on their courtship rituals. I had timed the visit to coincide with the breeding season and the islands were teeming with birds in the throes of these remarkable displays. On my very first day I was blown away by the otherworldliness of the place. 

There were blue-footed boobies stepping across dark volcanic rock whilst in the trees magnificent frigate birds puffed out blood red throats like toads. These jet-black birds are normally just that; black with the tiniest red sack at their throats like pirates wearing thin crevettes. During the breeding season the males puff these out until they become enormous bright red balloons. This may not seem particularly romantic to you or I, but the females clearly find it so and it was touching to see them snuggle up in to these inflated chests and I painted this, as below.

But among the most fascinating courtship displays I witnessed was that of waved albatrosses, which I saw during a day trip to the island of Espanola. Espanola is host to the only nesting colony of waved albatross in the world. We walked ashore just as dawn was breaking. Some marine iguanas were lined up on the beach trying to warm up in the early morning sunshine. Sally Lightfoot crabs - bright orange crustaceans thought to be named after a nimble Caribbean dancer - were tip-toeing across the sand. We left the shore and walked through dense bushes. Very soon I could hear a very strange, eerie sound. The noise turned out to be the sound emitted by a pair of courting albatross. It grew louder and louder, a haunting ‘whoo hoo’.

We rounded a corner into a clearing and suddenly there were several pairs of albatross performing this elaborate courting ritual right there in front of us. Waved albatross stand at nearly one metre high and have delicate waved markings that ripple across their breast. They are normally solitary birds and spend the entire year out at sea, coming to this specific island only once to breed. These birds mate for life so this annual reunion is very emotional. Pairs seem so genuinely pleased to see each other and greet one other by rubbing their bills together tenderly.

This gentle beak rub is followed by one or both birds standing suddenly bolt upright. These huge birds either stand with their beaks pointed towards the sky, emitting the strange wailing sound that I’d heard earlier, or pose alert with their beaks wide open, before continuing to rub bills again. Every so often the pair clack their beaks rapidly like a pair of castanets. Then, abruptly, they stop and begin preening over their shoulders, or moving their heads fluidly from side to side as though dancing. Sometimes, the couple will suddenly, and, seemingly, randomly, take a break to attend to their nests, before, without any apparent prompting, resuming their unusual courting ritual once more. This comes across as quite comical, after the intensity of the beak-clacking.

I was keen to record the moment when two albatross are reunited and on my return I painted the way in which these huge birds looked so graceful when they looked lovingly at one another, see above.

Albatross are quite cumbersome on land but up in the air they are majestic. I watched as a male with a 7.4ft wingspan circled overhead looking for somewhere to land. Finding a space big enough for that vast shape took some planning! Taking off was also incredible to watch. The wind was blowing onshore so the albatross would walk towards the cliff edge and then start running hard into the wind. They looked like men taking off in hang gliders.

Galapagos is host to so many utterly unique species that one trip is barely enough to take it all in and so I have booked a return visit this spring, again just as the breeding season kicks in. I’ll be there in a professional capacity as wildlife guide to a group of just 14 people. The visit has been organised in conjunction with Spanish-speaking guide Santiago Bejarano of Think Galapagos, in Bishop Burton, East Yorkshire, who has considerable knowledge of the region.

We will be touring the island on a luxury yacht and will get the opportunity to snorkel alongside sea lions, turtles, rays and even the indigenous Galapagos penguin. But, aside from a return visit to see Super Diego, the highlight of the trip will be seeing the beautiful birds that return to breed each year on these remote islands. I can’t wait to see them again and to show my guests the incredible wildlife that the Galapagos has to offer.

There are still places left on my guided trip to The Galapagos Islands this spring. The trip is limited to just 14 guests who will tour the archipelago on a specially-chartered luxury yacht. If you are interested in joining this exciting adventure or in any future trips please contact me on 01759 368355.

Mr Lover Man

Meet Super Diego, nature's most virile lover. 

Super Diego, who is more than 100 years old, is almost solely responsible for bringing his own subspecies, the saddle-backed Espanola tortoise, back from the brink of extinction. With 12 females to mate with, this rampant tortoise is believed to have fathered an estimated 1,700  baby tortoises since being introduced to a crucial breeding programme on the remote Galapagos Islands.

Super Diego had been living in a zoo in San Diego, California, when he was picked to join the breeding programme.  At the time there were just 14 Espanola tortoises left in the world, 12 of them females. It is believed that he brought a healthy genetic strain to the threatened population and his contribution is hailed as helping restore the threatened species.

I painted this portrait of the rampant giant tortoise after visiting The Galapagos Islands in 2014. This spring I am due to return to the Pacific archipelago and will be leading a guided tour of the unique wildlife there. If you are interested in joining this chartered luxury cruise around the islands please follow this link to my website for details. 

You can see this painting at my gallery alongside a collection of other paintings that celebrate animal courtship on Valentine's Day.