Free Range Photography

It’s rare to see more than one American Mink at a time along the South Fork of the Eel, but over the past week or so I believe I’ve been seeing a family consisting of an adult (presumed mother) and at least two offspring. I’m not sure if I’ve seen a second adult or a third kit, because the youngsters are pretty good size, almost 3/4 the size of the adult. Mink are always in a hurry and they seldom move around out in the open, so it’s been challenging to puzzle out what might be happening.

On several mornings I would see at least two and on one occasion three minks traveling toward me from downstream. Once it was just a distant blur of more than one little body on the beach way downstream, gone in a flash. Another morning, two minks came upstream toward me on the opposite bank. It seemed like the larger one, (mom?) dropped off the kid across the river from where I was hiding out and then went back downstream, coming back moments later with another pair of minks. They all ended up disappearing into a sheltered side channel, and as they are nocturnal I didn’t expect to see them again.

A couple mornings later, as I was hunkered down in my same hiding spot I heard a few muffled chortling sounds coming toward me right along the water’s edge, but their source was hidden from view by dense willow that was also hiding me from the minks’ sight. I expected to see a duck family coming around the corner, but instead my jaw dropped open as I saw it was three minks, one full-sized and two somewhat smaller but about old enough to ask for the car keys. They swam close together, and turned to cross the river right in front of me, their bodies bobbing up and down quickly in time with the swimming strokes of their little legs. In my clumsy haste to get photos or video of this close encounter I got neither, so you’ll have to take my word for it that it was a great thrill to be so close to these wild creatures, especially since they had no idea I was there.

The little noises continued as mom guided her babies into the same drop-off area they had paused in on the other morning, a cluster of large bolderish rocks right on the water, with deep crevices between, good for hiding in, and backed by thick brush up a steep slope, where I suspect there was a den.

After dropping off the kids in a safe hiding place, mom dove into the water and soon returned with a large crayfish, carrying it into one of the crevices.

Things were quiet for awhile and then the three of them emerged, their agile little bodies slipping like liquid over the stone surfaces and through the seams in the rocks, into the water and out again. It was so “now you see me, now you don’t”, that photos were hard to come by. Mink don’t exactly play the way their cousin otters so obviously do, but it seemed like they were practicing being adult minks, and one of them even came out of the water with something that I don’t think was prey, but was carried with purpose nonetheless.

I had noticed the other morning that one of the smaller ones was of a slightly different color.

After awhile, mom headed off upstream by herself. I watched her make her way as far as I could see, and then was surprised that for as long as I waited, well over an hour, she never came back.

Meanwhile the kids mostly stayed hidden within their rocky playground, but every so often, they would poke their heads out or take a quick dip in the water, exposed for no more than a blink of the eye.

Now it’s been a few days since I’ve seen any sign of the little family. This video is a series of clips from a couple mornings of watching them. I inserted a few screen shots to stop the high speed action and try to show more clearly what was happening.