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North Atlantic Bird Colony

It's all about the birds!

By Tom Dorsz

October 27^th, 2025

Photographing Atlantic Puffins has been on my wildlife bucket list for years , and there’s no better place to do it than Machias Seal Island, just off the coast of Maine and New Brunswick, Canada. It's the only location in the country where the public can legally access puffin nesting areas for up-close viewing and photography.

As you can imagine, demand is high — and space is limited.

Booking the Trip: A Race Against the Calendar

I booked my tour with Bold Coast Charter Company, based in Cutler, Maine, one of the few operators with permitted access to land on the island. They begin taking reservations each December for the following summer season. Knowing how quickly the spots fill, I was ready. As soon as the booking window opened in December 2022, I secured my spot for June 19, 2023, the only date that worked with my travel schedule. It filled up fast, and I only managed to get a single-day outing.

Looking back, I wish I’d had the flexibility to book at least two days. Weather in coastal Maine can be unpredictable, and trips are often canceled due to rough seas or fog. Thankfully, my one-day window worked out, but it was a gamble!

Bringing My Better Half — Just Not on the Boat

My wife was happy to come along on the trip, but she prefers solid ground to rolling waves, so puffin-spotting by boat wasn’t quite her idea of fun. Instead, I booked us a cozy B&B near Cutler, so she could enjoy the Maine coast at her own pace while I set off across the Gulf of Maine in pursuit of puffins.

The Road to Cutler

Rather than drive the full 14 hours from Frederick, Maryland, to Cutler in one shot, we decided to break up the journey. Our first leg took us about seven hours north to Ludlow, Vermont, where we stayed with family and recharged for a few days. From there, it was another scenic seven-hour drive to Cutler — a quiet, working lobster village perched on the rugged Bold Coast.

🦞 Cutler, Maine: A Postcard Town with a Working Soul

Cutler is one of those classic little Downeast Maine towns that feels like it’s been plucked straight from a postcard: rugged coastline, weathered working piers, lobster boats gently bobbing in the harbor, and tides that rise and fall like clockwork. It’s the kind of place where time slows down, and the everyday rhythm of the sea still defines life.

The moment I stepped out of the car, I was greeted by a familiar, salty cocktail of seaweed, salt air, and marine life — that unmistakable Maine coast scent that instantly took me back. I spent a lot of time in Maine growing up, and every time I catch that smell, it’s like flipping through the pages of old memories.

Where Lobstering Is a Way of Life

Cutler isn’t a touristy town; it’s a real lobstering community, where generations of families have made a living off the sea. The process is as gritty as it is fascinating: traps are baited with herring or other fish, then dropped into the frigid Atlantic, each one marked by a colorful buoy design unique to its owner.

After a few days on the ocean floor, the traps are hauled up and sorted. Undersized lobsters and egg-bearing females are carefully released, part of the conservation rules that keep Maine’s lobster fishery one of the most sustainable in the world.

From there, the lobsters go to local buyers. Some are kept alive for shipping to restaurants and seafood markets around the world. Others are processed locally, cooked, picked, and packaged. It’s physically demanding, year-round work, and the stakes rise dramatically in winter, when icy winds, rough seas, and short days test even the most seasoned lobstermen and women.

Resilient People, Rugged Place

Cutler may look like a quiet harbor town, but behind every buoy and boat is a story of resilience, tradition, and hard-earned livelihood. The people here are as tough and weathered as the rocky coastline they call home, and there’s a quiet pride in their work that’s easy to admire.

It’s places like this that remind me why I love traveling not just to places, but through them, observing the real lives that play out far from tourist maps.

Boats rest quietly in Cutler Harbor. The two smaller skiffs will shuttle us out to the lobster boat — our ride to Machias Seal Island.

🇺🇸🇨🇦 A Tiny Island with a Big Question Mark

See that tiny green speck at the bottom of the map? That’s Machias Seal Island — a remote, wind-swept dot in the Gulf of Maine that might seem insignificant at first glance. But don’t let its size fool you. This little island sits at the center of one of the last remaining land disputes between the U.S. and Canada.

Yep — both countries claim it.

If you zoom in on a map, you’ll notice something unusual: the normally well-defined border between the U.S. and Canada starts to blur right around this spot. It’s a rare case of diplomatic ambiguity — a quiet, long-standing standoff in the fog.

A Peaceful Dispute with a Lighthouse

There’s no tension, no armed guards, no barbed wire, just a Canadian lighthouse keeper and some puffins. Canada has maintained a manned lighthouse on the island for over a century, effectively controlling it, while the United States still officially asserts its claim.

It’s a fascinating bit of international trivia, a real-world border anomaly that most people have never heard of.

And while diplomats might still be politely disagreeing in the background, most visitors come here for the wildlife, especially during puffin season — not the politics.

Lucky Timing and a Boat Ride to Machias Seal Island

I really lucked out with the weather! While chatting with another traveler at the pier before we hopped into the dinghy to board the lobster boat, he mentioned he’d originally been scheduled to go out the day before — but his trip was canceled due to rough weather.

Bold Coast Tours offers refunds for cancellations (which is great), but they don’t reschedule, so if you miss your window, you’re out of luck unless you can book again. Thankfully, the wind and rough sea subsided for us, and we got the go-ahead to sail. Whew!

We left Cutler on what definitely felt like a “three-hour tour” (yes, I did hum the Gilligan’s Island theme). The sea was a little choppy but nothing too wild — just enough to feel like an adventure.

It’s roughly 10 miles out to Machias Seal Island, and the ride took a little over an hour. Plenty of time to breathe in the salty air, watch the coast shrink behind us, and get excited for what was ahead — puffins, rugged views, and one of the most unique island landings in the U.S.

Machias Seal Island is truly a sanctuary for wildlife — especially for the many seals that call it home. Both Common Seals and Grey Seals can be found here, thriving in the island’s quiet, protected environment.

As our boat neared the rocky shoreline, we could already spot seals stretched out on the seaweed-covered rocks, soaking up the sun and enjoying a well-earned rest. Every so often, one would lift its head or roll lazily before settling back down — the picture of pure relaxation.

A Grey Seal surfaced nearby, its nostrils tightly closed — a natural adaptation that helps it stay underwater longer. Watching them move so effortlessly between land and sea was fascinating.

One of the most interesting things about Machias Seal Island is how safe it is for the seals. The chilly waters of the Gulf of Maine are simply too cold for sharks, giving these sleek swimmers a rare refuge where they can live and play without fear.

Machias Seal Island isn’t just a destination — it’s a glimpse into the peaceful balance of nature, where wildlife can truly flourish.

As our boat neared Machias Seal Island, a puffin darted past, while a small group of razorbills quickly came behind it. Watching these seabirds navigate the wind and currents was a reminder that Machias Seal Island is not just a haven for seals, but a thriving sanctuary for a whole host of remarkable wildlife.

Two Canadian lightkeepers are stationed on the island in alternating 28-day rotations, where they carry out vital duties and help uphold Canada’s sovereignty. They reach the island by helicopter from Saint John, New Brunswick.

After landing at Seal Island, we transferred into a small dinghy that brought us to a concrete pier and walkway. With the tide out, the pier was slick and coated in seaweed, so we had to tread carefully. Still, it felt wonderful to set foot on solid ground again.

As we continued along the boardwalk, I held a pole above my head—our makeshift defense against the nesting terns. They clearly weren’t happy to see us and swooped down in protest, making for quite an adventurous welcome to the island.

Binoculars

Binoculars are a great way to observe the various flocks of birds on this island.

View on Amazon

Atlantic Puffins

Often called the “clowns of the sea,” Atlantic puffins are instantly recognizable with their black-and-white plumage and bright, colorful beaks. In the air, these charming birds flap their short wings rapidly to stay aloft, but once they dive beneath the waves, those same wings become powerful flippers. Using them, puffins skillfully chase and catch small fish one by one.

Their unique feeding technique is fascinating—puffins press each fish against the roof of their mouths with their tongues, securing them on the serrated edges of their beaks. This clever method lets them hold multiple fish at once while continuing to hunt. A puffin typically carries about ten fish per trip, but some have been spotted with as many as sixty dangling from their beaks!

During the breeding season, Machias Seal Island teems with these delightful little birds. It’s an encouraging sight, considering that puffin populations in North America were nearly wiped out by overhunting in the 1800s. By the early 1900s, no nesting colonies remained in Maine. Today, puffins on Seal Island dig burrows beneath rocks to make cozy nests for their single chick, while others prefer rocky cliff crevices elsewhere. Curious and full of character, puffins love gathering in groups and can often be heard chatting in gentle, pig-like grunts—a fitting soundtrack to their playful personalities.

Several duck blinds offered the perfect vantage points for photography, allowing puffins and razorbills to wander right up close for incredible shots.

The bunkhouse of the lighthouse keeper is the second-highest point on the island, after the lighthouse, making it a good place for these little birds to congregate and socialize.

During the breeding season, these charming little birds show off their bright, colorful beaks—but once the season ends, they shed that vivid layer, revealing smaller, duller ones for the rest of the year. Puffins are full of personality, often squawking or grunting like tiny pigs as they waddle about'

These little birds are bursting with personality. Their expressive faces seem to capture every emotion—they can squawk, shriek, and grunt one moment, then look completely pensive and lost in thought the next.

Puffins are endlessly fascinating creatures—curious, social, and remarkably loyal. They’re known for forming long-term, often lifelong, monogamous bonds, returning year after year to the same burrow and partner to raise a single chick, affectionately called a puffling.

During the breeding season, puffin colonies are bustling with activity, resembling “busy residents of a high-rise apartment building” as they check in on neighbors and exchange friendly grunts. When it comes to dinner, they’re skilled fishers, catching small fish like herring and capelin to bring back to their burrows.

Their nesting process is a labor of love: puffins dig burrows into grassy slopes or rocky terrain using both their bills and feet, then line their nests with soft materials such as grass and feathers—creating a cozy home for their little family.

Puffins spend the winter months primarily at sea, far from land, bobbing on the waves and diving to hunt for food. They return to their nesting grounds only during the breeding season, typically from mid-April to August. Outside of this, puffins disperse widely in the open ocean, making them difficult to track. Their feathers are waterproof, and they can drink salt water, which is essential for sea survival. Additionally, puffins tend to be solitary during the winter, focusing on hunting and resting on the water.

National Audubon Society Birds of North America

National Audubon Society Complete Guides on Amazon

Razorbills

PPuffins and razorbills are both members of the Auk family, a group of hardy ocean birds that nest on land but spend the winter out at sea. Like puffins, razorbills have sharp-edged, hooked beaks that help them grip slippery fish and defend themselves from predators. They’re also impressive divers, capable of plunging to depths of over 330 feet in search of food.

With their sleek black heads and a distinctive white line running in front of their eyes, razorbills have a striking look that’s oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader. That white marking isn’t just for show—it serves as both ornamentation and an identification feature during breeding season. Interestingly, this marking may have a genetic link to their extinct relative, the Great Auk, which sported multiple white lines on its bill.

It’s always fascinating to watch puffins and razorbills together; they seem to share a friendly camaraderie, often mingling side by side on the rocky island ledges.

Other Sea Birds

Besides the auks (puffins and razorbills), there are other bird species on the island, including common eiders, arctic and common terns, common murres, double-crested cormorants, Leach's storm petrels, and black guillemots. The island is a key stopover for various land birds during migration. Species such as savannah sparrows, spotted sandpipers, tree swallows, and barn swallows nest there. It is designated as a Migratory Bird Sanctuary, underscoring the importance of protecting the seabirds that make this island their home.

Common Eider

The common eider—also known as St. Cuthbert’s duck or Cuddy’s duck—is a large, heavy-bodied sea duck found along the northern coasts of Europe, North America, and eastern Siberia. Despite their size, eiders are graceful on the water, often seen floating offshore in vast flocks that can number in the thousands.

These sociable birds also nest in colonies during the breeding season. What makes them especially remarkable is their use of eider down—the soft, insulating feathers plucked from their own chests—to line their nests. This natural insulation keeps their eggs warm even in the coldest northern climates.

In places like Iceland, this remarkable down is sustainably harvested at coastal “eider farms,” where wild eiders are encouraged to nest in specially built shelters. It’s a unique partnership between people and wildlife.

Common Murres

The common murres pictured below—often nicknamed “flying penguins”—are expert swimmers, capable of diving more than 100 feet beneath the surface in search of food. Some murres sport a distinctive “bridled” look, marked by a white ring around the eye and a thin line extending backward. This striking variation is genetic and most commonly seen in murres that live in northern regions.

We left the island after a careful, slippery walk down the pier, the tide still low and retreating. The boat ride back was just as choppy as our trip out, but the energy on board was entirely different—everyone was buzzing with excitement, sharing stories and photos from our unforgettable time among the birds. It was clear to all of us that this was one of those rare, special places we’d carry with us forever.

Afterward, I picked up Pat, and we made our way to Lubec, Maine, for lunch. We stopped at The Inn on the Wharf, where the lobster bisque was absolutely incredible—rich, creamy, and packed with generous chunks of lobster. Delicious!

From there, we continued on to the West Quoddy Head Lighthouse, the easternmost point in the United States, and soaked in the stunning coastal views. The next morning, we began our journey home, grateful for an unforgettable trip filled with adventure, wildlife, and plenty of good food.

🦞 Afterward, I picked up Pat, and we made our way to Lubec, Maine, for lunch. We stopped at The Inn at the Wharf, where the lobster bisque was absolutely incredible—rich, creamy, and packed with generous chunks of lobster. Delicious!