12 The Independent . the Diaspora ’ s Multicultural Voice September 30 2017 12 The Independent . the Diaspora ’ s Multicultural Voice June 30 2017
Travel
It ’ s not the puffins that have Canada and the USA fighting over this small rock where the Gulf of Maine meets the Bay of Fundy . It ’ s something quite valuable
Machias Seal : Canada ’ s tiny disputed island
On Christmas morning , Anthony Ross woke up on an island at the point where the Gulf of Maine meets the Bay of Fundy . Outside , the wind whipped across the frozen brown grass , blowing snow in drifts against the lighthouse while waves lapped the rocky shore . In the next room , his older brother Russell was already awake and keeping a watchful eye on the sea .
It was not exactly how one pictures a family holiday , but for the lighthouse keepers of Machias Seal Island , it would have to make do . Once the helicopter lands on this 18-acre hunk of rock between the US and Canada , there is no going home until the end of the month .
“ You are away from home for 28 days at a time ; that is the hardest part . But you get used to that ,” said Russell , who has been a lighthouse keeper for about 20 years .
Luckily , Russell and Anthony came prepared with turkey , presents and beer – all anyone needs for a nice Christmas day . After decorating the tree and calling their families back home in Nova Scotia , the brothers tucked into a roast dinner .
“ It was a pretty good Christmas , all around ,” Russell recalled .
Located smack-dab between the Canadian province of New Brunswick and the US state of Maine , Machias Seal Island is the only contested territory between Canada and the US on the East Coast . During the War of 1812 , Great Britain ( now Canada ) and the US each laid claim to the land and the waters that surrounded it . Although the island is far too small and remote to be permanently settled , it was strategically located in the middle of a valuable shipping route , near Grand Manan Island ( pictured ), and neither country wanted to give it away .
In 1832 , Britain built a lighthouse on the island to physically stake its claim . Since then , Canadians have been living there , helping keep sailors away from its rocky coastline and protecting the land from both human and natural foes .
That is where Russell and Anthony come in . As lighthouse keepers on the island , they are part of a long line of watchmen manning Canada ’ s frontier in the Atlantic Ocean . While most of the lighthouses in Atlantic Canada have closed , the government has kept this one open – in part to keep its claim on the rock .
“ The opportunity we have to be here , to stay on here and man the island , it is important ,” Anthony said . “ There are not many light-keepers left .”
Neither brother works full-time – union rules say that part-time keepers can only work three month-long shifts a year . But one fulltime position may be opening up , and both Russell and Anthony want to go for it .
“ May the best man win ,” Anthony said with a smile .
Both brothers have been doing this long
The lighthouse where brothers Anthony and Russell Ross keep watch over the sea , where they are away from home for 28 days at a time
enough to know the island ’ s rhythms : the way it fades from emerald green to dusty brown with the seasons ; how the puffins swoop and cackle when they spot a fish in the water ; and how the lobster boats emerge from the horizon just after sunrise .
“ The boats are fishing right in the cove there – you can see all the fishermen ,” Russell said . “ I have been here long enough that they know my name now , they know my voice on the [ radio ], and they know me too .”
Russell and Anthony also play a role as unofficial ambassadors for the island , greeting American and Canadian tour boats that dock during the summer , when the island turns into a seabird sanctuary . They treat everyone the same , no matter their nationality , offering the birdwatchers a hand onto the slippery , seaweed-covered boardwalk .
“ The birds do not care ; they do not know the difference ,” said Russell of the US-Canada border dispute
As island guardians , Russell and Anthony play an important role in protecting the thousands of seabirds – Atlantic puffins , common murres , Arctic turns and razorbill auks – that nest here during the summer .
They help deter gulls that would prey on the young chicks , and also fend off one of nature ’ s biggest homewreckers : man .
As one of the largest seabird colonies on the East Coast – and the most diverse – the island is protected by Canadian Wildlife Services , which limits the number of tourists allowed on the island at any one time .
Only two tour boats , one from Maine and one from New Brunswick , are allowed to land each day on the island ’ s dock . With just 15 passengers per load , spots fill up fast . By early April , both boats have usually sold out for the entire birdwatching season , which runs from June to the first week of August .
Those lucky enough to score a spot must make their way to either the island of Grand
Manan in New Brunswick or to Jonesport , Maine , where the boats are docked . It can be tricky for the vessels to land on the narrow and rocky shores of Machias , and bad weather can easily cancel a long-awaited trip . But if the seas are fair , adventure-seekers may see a pack of seals sunning themselves on a rock during the boat ride ( which is two hours from Maine and 1.5 hours from Grand Manan ), or even spot a whale .
Once on the island , tourists are restricted to boardwalks to keep them from stepping on a puffin burrow . The skittish birds like to avoid the human interlopers , so people crowd into wooden sheds called blinds , where they can observe the pigeon-sized , tuxedo-wearing birds undetected .
The hassle is worth it , according to Dr Tony Diamond , who has been running the University of New Brunswick ’ s Atlantic Laboratory for Avian Research ( ALAR ) since 1995 .
“ It is the only seabird colony in the whole of the East Coast where the general public can actually come on shore and get a close-up look of the birds ,” he said . “ It is unmatched .”
In May , thousands of puffins flock to the island to dig their burrows and lay their eggs . Once the eggs have hatched , mama and papa puffin take turns guarding the chicks and going out into the sea to bring back dinner .
This process , which can last until about August , attracts birdwatchers , scientists and wildlife photographers from around the world .
During the summer , three researchers from ALAR live on the island full-time to track and monitor the birds ’ breeding season . It is a unique experience that helps scientists like Mark Dodds get a sense of not only the individual species , but how the ocean as a whole is doing .
But it is not the puffins of Machias Seal that have the US and Canada fighting – it ’ s what lurks in the ocean just beyond the island .
Over the past decade , the price of lobster has about tripled , with fishermen able to command about CAD $ 4 (£ 3 ) a pound for their catch wholesale . On a good day , a lobster boat can easily earn thousands of dollars .
That makes the contested waters around Machias , nicknamed the ‘ grey zone ’, a veritable goldmine . Neither country wants to relinquish rights to fish those waters , so the fishermen have worked out a kind of unofficial truce .
“ Most of the time , if you try and work with them , they will try and work with you . But if you want to be a push and shove , you are going to be pushed and shoved back ,” said Donald Harris , a fisherman from Grand Manan , a Canadian island of about 2,500 people located about an hour and a half , or 32km ( 20 miles ), away by boat from Machias .
On a lazy August afternoon , Harris and a couple of other fisherman are working on their boats out by the Grand Manan pier , taking it easy before the autumn season kicks in . Practically everybody on Grand Manan is a fisherman or knows someone who is – the industry is the lifeblood of the community .
The lobster boom is evident everywhere you go in Grand Manan , from houses decked out with fresh coats of paint to boats laden with the latest gear .
“ Lots changing . There ’ s a lot more people over here right now , there is a lot more stuff to do right now – our community ’ s getting better all the time ,” said fisherman Dane Lynton .
The ‘ grey zone ’ has only added to their wealth . Although the Canadian lobster season officially ends in June , in 2002 the government decided to allow year-round lobster fishing in the 700-sq-km ( 270-sq-mi ) ‘ grey zone ’. It has helped tide many a fisherman over in the off season , and helped grow the lobster boom in Grand Manan even more .
“ That is just making money before we make more money ,” Lynton said .
But while many maintain that current regulations are enough to keep the fishery from being overfished , some are worried that the sky-high prices , driven by market demand in Asia , will prove too great a temptation .
“ Man can ruin anything , right ? And greed will ruin a lot of things too ,” Harris said .
Although everyone is flush with cash for now , Harris has been around long enough to have seen the fortunes of the village go up and down with the tides , depending on what the catch is .
“ Usually Mother Nature looks after herself , but I have been around long enough . I have seen how the herring went , and the groundfish and the scalloping ,” he said . “ When you have only got lobster to rely on , and everybody is pounding so hard at the ‘ grey zone ’… it is all going to affect it sooner or later .”