Least Auklet: The World’s Smallest Auklet on Saint Paul Island

There is nothing in this photograph to provide a sense of scale. Enlarged on a screen, this Least Auklet could easily pass for a much bigger seabird.

In front of me on Saint Paul Island, it was scarcely larger than a sparrow.

At about 15 centimetres (six inches) long and weighing roughly 86 grams (three ounces), the Least Auklet is the smallest member of the auk family. Its relatives include puffins, murres, guillemots and razorbills.

A tiny seabird with plenty of character

Least Auklets spend most of their lives at sea in the North Pacific and Bering Sea, returning to remote rocky islands to breed.

This bird stood upright on an exposed rock long enough for me to make a clean portrait. The simple background and full side profile show the details that can easily be missed when these tiny birds are moving through the rocks: the pale eye, reddish-orange bill, white plume behind the eye and heavily mottled breast.

The amount of white and dark spotting on the underparts varies considerably from one Least Auklet to another. Some are almost white below, while others are much darker than this bird.

Least Auklets on Saint Paul Island

Least Auklets nest inside cracks and crevices among the boulders and broken volcanic rock of Saint Paul Island. They do not build a conventional nest. A single egg is laid on bare rock, soil or pebbles inside the protected cavity.

They feed at sea by diving for tiny marine crustaceans, primarily copepods, along with krill and other small invertebrates. Productive currents and upwellings concentrate that food around the Pribilof Islands.

The Least Auklet may not have the immediate star appeal of a Horned or Tufted Puffin, but spending time with one changes that quickly. There is an extraordinary amount of detail packed into a bird weighing only three ounces.

Photographing the world’s smallest auklet at 1,200mm

For me, the successful photograph was not about action. It was simply a matter of waiting for one bird to stand alone on the right rock, with a clean background and a head position that showed the eye, bill and facial plume.

I used a 600mm lens with a 2X teleconverter for a focal length of 1,200mm. That reach filled the frame with this tiny bird while the distant background dissolved into a soft wash of colour.

My exposure was ISO 6,400, f/8 at 1/5,000s. The fast shutter speed preserved the fine feather detail and eliminated any movement from the bird.

That brief opportunity produced one of my favourite portraits from Saint Paul Island.

Photograph Least Auklets on Saint Paul Island

Join me on Saint Paul Island to photograph Least, Crested and Parakeet Auklets, Horned and Tufted Puffins, Red-faced Cormorants, Red-legged Kittiwakes, Northern Fur Seals, Arctic Foxes and the many other species that gather on this remote island in the Bering Sea.

My July 1–8, 2027 Saint Paul Island Wildlife Photography Workshop has only one place remaining. The July 2–9, 2028 workshop has also been announced.

Can Northern Fur Seals Smell? A Close Encounter on Saint Paul Island

While we were photographing Northern Fur Seals from one of the observation blinds on Saint Paul Island, this seal stopped, raised its muzzle and sampled the air.

I’m fairly sure the wind had carried our scent.

The specially constructed blinds allow us to watch and photograph the seals without walking among them or disturbing the rookery. They conceal us remarkably well, but they don’t stop the wind from giving us away.

Can Northern Fur Seals smell?

Yes. Northern Fur Seals have a well-developed sense of smell, although hearing and vision are usually more obvious to anyone watching them around a busy rookery.

Studies of fur seals and other pinnipeds suggest that scent plays a role in recognizing individuals and gathering information about nearby animals. On a crowded breeding colony filled with movement, noise and thousands of seals, every available sense has value.

Looking at this photograph without knowing what happened, it would be easy to interpret the lifted muzzle, open mouth and visible teeth as aggression.

It wasn’t.

The seal remained calm as it tested the air, trying to locate the unfamiliar scent that had reached it. I had enough time to recognize what it was doing and make a few photographs before it carried on.

Photographing Northern Fur Seals on Saint Paul Island

Access to Northern Fur Seal rookeries is strictly controlled. On Saint Paul Island, we photograph from authorized observation blinds positioned to provide excellent views while keeping people out of the colony.

That controlled access is essential. A disturbed seal can rush into the rookery and cause panic among nearby animals, placing small pups at risk.

The blinds also give us the chance to watch natural behaviour unfold. There are territorial males, females returning from the sea, nursing pups, young seals playing and individuals resting only a short distance away. Sometimes the most interesting photograph comes from a small gesture, such as a seal pausing to investigate a scent on the wind.

Saint Paul Island is one of very few places where visiting photographers can reliably photograph wild Northern Fur Seals at an active rookery from purpose-built observation blinds.

What the photograph does not tell you

A still photograph removes everything that happened immediately before and after the shutter was released.

This seal was not challenging me or reacting aggressively. It was scenting the air, and our position in the blind happened to be upwind.

Knowing what I was watching made all the difference. Instead of concentrating only on the open mouth and visible teeth, I waited for the raised muzzle and direct head position that best described the behaviour.

Join me on Saint Paul Island

If photographing Northern Fur Seals from these observation blinds—along with Tufted and Horned Puffins, Crested Auklets, Red-faced Cormorants, Arctic Foxes and the rest of Saint Paul Island’s remarkable wildlife—sounds like your kind of trip, join me for seven full days of photography in the Pribilof Islands.

My July 1–8, 2027 Saint Paul Island Wildlife Photography Workshop has only one place remaining. The July 2–9, 2028 workshop has also been announced.

Saint Paul Island Wildlife Photography Workshop

Reflections from Kuliak Bay: Brown Bear Photography in Katmai

Low tide meant a predawn hike into Kuliak Bay in Katmai National Park. We followed a bear trail through frost-dusted vegetation, watching the first rays of sunlight illuminate the mountain peaks around us. Above the still-shadowed coast, the summits began to glow. It is an incredibly beautiful walk, and one I always look forward to.

That morning, I reflected on how fortunate I am to keep returning to this wild stretch of Alaska’s coast. After more than forty years behind the lens, I still get excited about heading out before dawn, wondering what the day might bring.

We can prepare carefully, draw on years of experience and put ourselves in promising places, but Mother Nature has the final say.

Late September on the Katmai Coast

Late September has usually given me the best opportunities to photograph the biggest coastal brown bears, looking magnificent after a summer of feeding on rich, oily salmon. We are usually among the very last people on the Katmai Coast, and it is a moment I look forward to every year.

This year, however, was an exception. There were fewer fish and bears than on previous visits. Usually, at this time of year, the stream banks are littered with partially eaten salmon, with bears seemingly around every bend. This September stood in stark contrast.

Finding photographic opportunities required more searching, more waiting and the willingness to work with whatever unfolded.

I have hopes for every trip, too. Returning to a place I know and love brings memories of extraordinary encounters and the anticipation of seeing them again. But experience can only guide us. It cannot tell the salmon when to arrive or the bears where to be.

Mother Nature’s Consolation Prizes

Then there are moments like this.

This coastal brown bear was clamming on the exposed tidal flats at first light. As it moved along the water’s edge, its reflection stretched below it, surrounded by soft greens and golds. I love the strength in its stride and the scene’s quiet feel.

If this is one of Mother Nature’s consolation prizes, I’ll happily accept it.

The photograph you hoped to make may never happen, while another opportunity becomes one of your favourites. Being there, watching carefully and staying ready gives you the chance to recognize it when it comes.

This trip brought some amazing adventures and incredible moments. This image is one I am particularly happy to have brought home. Looking at it takes me straight back to Kuliak Bay—to the frost along the bear trail and the first light on the mountains as we walked in.

Coastal Brown Bear Cubs Playfighting in Golden Light | Katmai Alaska Wildlife Photography

When the Fog Lifted — Katmai Spring Cubs at Play

There are moments in wildlife photography that stay with you long after the shutter stops.

After breakfast, we slipped quietly into the skiff and moved through thick coastal fog, the kind that muffles sound and softens everything around you. A short walk brought us onto the meadow just as the first warm light began to push through.

Then it happened.

As the fog slowly lifted, two spring cubs emerged right in front of us — already engaged, already full of energy. Wrestling. Testing each other. Completely unaware of us.

It was one of those emotional moments in the field where everything aligns — light, behaviour, proximity.

We sat with them for nearly an hour, photographing as they playfought in that beautiful, diffused golden light. No chaos. No rush. Just pure, natural behaviour unfolding in front of us.

This is early June on the Katmai coast.

When the grass is still low, the cubs are visible, and moments like this are possible — but never guaranteed. That’s the reality of working with truly wild bears, and exactly what makes it so rewarding when it comes together.

If experiencing moments like this is why you photograph wildlife, you’ll understand why this place is so special.

👉 Join me this June 12-19, 2026.

Experience Katmai’s Coastal Brown Bears — Where Wild Moments Like This Happen

🐻

Experience Katmai’s Coastal Brown Bears — Where Wild Moments Like This Happen 🐻

Coastal Brown Bear Cubs Play Fighting in Katmai | Alaska Bear Photography Workshop

There’s always a moment after the action.

After a morning of torrential rain along the Katmai coast, the weather finally eased, and the bears began to emerge. These two spring cub siblings didn’t waste any time — tumbling, sparring, and chasing each other through the fresh green growth.

Full of energy.
Relentless.
Exactly what you hope to witness.

And then… it stopped.

Just as quickly as it began, the intensity faded. The bursts of energy gave way to fatigue, and within minutes, both cubs settled down side by side and face to face.

This moment.

Not the chaos — but the quiet after.

You could see it in their posture. Heads lowering. Eyes softening. The last flickers of play giving way to rest. Completely at ease in each other’s presence.

It’s easy to focus on the action, but these quieter moments often tell the deeper story — trust, comfort, and the bond between siblings learning the world together.

From a photographic standpoint, this is where everything comes together:
Soft post-storm light, clean green tones, low shooting angle, and behaviour that feels real.

No drama. No force. Just authenticity.

An Immersion in Bears — Not Just a Sighting

This image was created during my eight-day Coastal Brown Bear Workshop in Alaska — built around time, access, and real behaviour.

We begin with a scenic floatplane flight from Kodiak along the Katmai coast, landing to meet our vessel. After lunch, we’re out photographing bears that very first afternoon.

From there:

Days 2–7 — full days with bears.

No long drives.
No crowds.
No pressure.

Just time to let moments like this unfold naturally.

On Day 8, we photograph bears once more after breakfast before boarding our return floatplane flight back to Kodiak.

Why Early June Matters

These are spring cubs, and timing is everything.

Early June offers:

• Cubs that are still small, curious, and highly interactive

• Frequent bursts of play followed by moments like this

• Open visibility before the sedge grass grows too tall

It’s one of the few times you can consistently photograph both behaviour and emotion in the same sequence.

Join Me in Alaska

If you want more than just action shots — if you want to capture the full story of wildlife behaviour, from intensity to quiet — this is where it happens.

👉 Full details:
https://www.chrisdoddsphoto.com/bear-boat-coastal-brown-bears-of-alaska

Small group.
Eight days.
Real moments like this.

Photograph Coastal Brown Bears in Alaska — Eight Days of Unmatched Wildlife Access

〰️

Photograph Coastal Brown Bears in Alaska — Eight Days of Unmatched Wildlife Access 〰️