Over the next few weeks a number of little-known Island residents will be hard at work preparing for the biggest journey of their lives.

Under the cloak of darkness, they will emerge from their burrows and start exercising.

They will do push ups on their rocky island homesteads and walk about inquisitively.

They will tentatively flap their long, powerful wings and fix their gazes on the sky and the stars for hours on end - memorising the positions of their homes by celestial mapping.

If ambitious, they might undertake a small island hop.

When they are absolutely sure they're ready, they will fly for the first time - and they will keep flying for at least five years.

They will even sleep on the wind - in slow, warm spirals above thermal vents.

The sky-bound creatures are Bermuda's latest batch of Cahow chicks - the endemic bird, completely unique to Bermuda, once believed extinct.

This year has been a record one for Cahow numbers, with 38 successful chicks and 65 adult pairs.

Conservationists are delighted. When former Government conservation officer Dr. David Wingate began his lifelong mission to save Bermuda's only unique seabird in the 1950s, numbers had fallen to 16 pairs.

If they had fallen any lower, the Cahow would surely be extinct as interbreeding would have weakened the species irretrievably, Government conservation officer Jeremy Madeiros told The Royal Gazette.

Following in Dr. Wingate's footsteps, Mr. Madeiros is tasked with tending to the fledgling population and trying to coax it on to further success.

To be removed from the endangered species list, Bermuda would have to support 1,000 pairs of Cahows.

“This is not something I will see but maybe my successor's successor will see it,” Mr. Madeiros said. “I'd be happy to see numbers reach 150 pairs.”

Cahows are believed to have been in Bermuda for over 300,000 years. When the first settlers arrived, the birds - relatives of the petrel - numbered perhaps half a million.

But Cahows suffered mightily after the arrival of the settlers and the land-based mammals - rats, cats, pigs - which accompanied them as well as from competing with more aggressive seabirds such as the longtail.

Their numbers dwindled steadily through the centuries and now they exist in in pockets on small, isolated islands off the east end.

“This is not their natural habitat,” Mr. Madeiros said. “It is desperation habitat.”

Desperation habitat, helped by conservationists who have constructed concrete bunkers to protect nests and fortified islands with boulders to combat the sea.

“We call it government housing,” quipped Mr. Madeiros.

A natural Cahow nest can be a deep as 20 feet, so in constructing the artificial nests it was vital to create deep, dark, cool tunnels where the birds can thrive. Completely nocturnal creatures, the Cahows were called ‘sea owls' by the early settlers. Adult Cahows return to Bermuda in November to mate. They are monogamous birds which pair up for life and produce one egg each year.

Chicks are born in January and February and adult Cahows will fly as far as Gulf Stream to collect food for their young - squid, krill, shrimp and some small fish - feeding them every couple of days.

The Cahow can reach speeds of 50-60 miles per hour when flying - most birds average 25 - and is one of the most aerodynamically efficient wonders of nature.

When the parents stop returning to nest, in late May, the down-covered, rolypoly chicks will slim-down, start exercising, and eventually fly off independently in search of their own food.

This year, the bird's numbers have finally reached a level where Mr. Madeiros feels it is safe to tag them in order to better track and understand their movements and behaviours.

He has labouring quietly in the Bermuda night for months, to band the chicks as well as monitoring the nests and collecting data on nest visiting frequency and chick weights.

The task can be arduous as approaching the relatively remote Island in stormy conditions is danger-ridden - the rocky shore is razor-sharp, the swell can be sufficiently powerful to flip his small boat and Mr. Madeiros normally works alone.

But the Cahow is still under considerable threat both from predators and the ravages of weather and everything that can be done to protect this avian, national treasure, must be. Mr. Madeiros hopes to encourage Cahows to relocate to Nonsuch Island over the next few years to improve the species chances.

As it stands, one late season hurricane could decimate the re-surging population as the island they live on would be flooded in green water.

Even a severe storm - such as last year's Storm Karen - could knock out nests of many Cahows which live on low lying islands.

Nonsuch could easily support a population of thousands of Cahows, Mr. Madeiros said, and the island - a Government-supported project to preserve as best as possible the Bermuda the first settlers would have found - is already controlled for vicious predators such as rats and pigeons.

Encouraging the Cahow to relocate will take both luck and impeccable timing, however.

The chicks will have to be removed from their nests before they begin exercising and studying the skies but after the parents stop their feeding visits.

And Mr. Madeiros will have to convince a critical mass of the birds to begin breeding on the Island in order for the project to succeed.

He has recently returned from Australia where he studied Australian efforts to preserve a petrel relative of the Cahow.

The Australians have brought Gould's petrel numbers to roughly 950 pairs - just shy of moving the species to the ‘threatened' category from the ‘endangered'.

Bermuda's Cahows will take decades of successful conservation efforts to reach the same numbers.

But as this year's chick totals alone demonstrate, nothing is impossible.