As I write this, it is day 13 of the incubation.
Under normal circumstances, this stretch of time would be fairly uneventful. The embryos are developing quietly, cruising along in the coziness of the incubator.
But as you may have guessed by now, nothing about this clutch of eggs has been particularly normal.
An Eggsitential Crisis
Throughout Wednesday and Thursday our region was hit by waves of power outages. The first big thaw of the snowpack combined with heavy rain wreaked havoc on power lines across the area.
And of course, Murphy’s Law would have it that the one and only time I run an incubator without a backup power supply, we lose electricity.
Luckily, I keep a camping battery charged for emergencies. I was able to sprint to the incubator and get it powered back up within minutes.

The incubator running off the camping battery during the power outage. The incubator is shrouded in tea towels to conserve heat (one was removed when this photo was taken).
Eggs are surprisingly resilient when temperature drops are brief, but still — not exactly the sort of excitement one hopes for during incubation.
Incubators ≠ Shakira’s Hips (They Lie)
This week I’ve been paying particularly close attention to humidity levels in the incubator to make sure the eggs are losing moisture at the correct rate.
The challenge is that while the Pekin eggs are tracking nicely within the expected weight-loss range, the Muscovy eggs are losing moisture faster than ideal.

Pekin eggs’ average weight charted against days of incubation.

Muscovy eggs’ average weight charted against days of incubation.
One thing to know about hobby-grade incubators is that their onboard temperature and humidity displays are no more trustworthy than any given F-boy, it’s just the way they’re built and there’s no fixing to be done.

“alternative stats” — the actual incubation conditions are 99.5ºF at 58~60% humidity
This is where independent thermohygrometer sensors come in. I typically run at least two of them simultaneously. Multiple sensors reduce the chance of error and also help reveal temperature differences within the incubator itself.

Wireless thermohygrometer sensors inside the incubator.
According to the data, this particular incubator has a number of quirks, so 🥚eggstra🥚 vigilance is required:
Ultra Mini Microclimates
Given the size of the heating element, the interior of the incubator is spacious by proportion — a bit like a large apartment heated with a single space heater.
Even though this is a forced-air incubator, where a fan circulates air continuously, there are still noticeable warm and cool zones.

Placement of Pekin (numbered) and Muscovy (lettered) duck eggs in incubator.
Fortunately, this actually works in our favor. Since Muscovy eggs benefit from losing moisture more slowly, they’ve been placed along the outer rows of the incubator where airflow is slightly cooler and less direct. Meanwhile the Pekin eggs sit closer to the center, directly beneath the heating element.
Sometimes incubation requires 🥚strateggic🥚 real estate management.
Regulating Humidity
There are many mechanisms for controlling humidity in incubators. This particular model includes a gravity-fed water system with two different reservoirs.
As impressively engineered as they look, they function about as well as an ashtray on a motorcycle — 🥚eggceptionally🥚 poorly.

My hot take: It doesn’t matter if your incubator is a $200 unit from Tractor Supply Co. or a $50 TEMU dupe — until you’re getting into the $1k+ price range, it’s all pretty much different lipstick same swine, same wine different label. They all lie, the pricier one just does so with less typos.
Fortunately, there’s a workaround.
Enter the humble mustard jar. By placing a small jar of water inside the incubator with paper wicks, evaporation can be controlled rather precisely. The more wick surface exposed, the higher the humidity.

It’s simple, adjustable, and — most importantly — reliable. Sometimes the best tools are the least 🥚sophisticateggd🥚 ones.
One Loss
Not all developments this week were positive.
During candling, egg #9 showed a “ring of blood” a sign that indicates that the embryo stopped developing mid-incubation. As you can see, all the veins that were previously pumping with blood have also faded away. 😢

That egg, a Pekin, has been removed from the incubator. Losses like this are always disappointing, but they are also an expected part incubating eggs at home. It’s hard not to feel crappy about this, but I try to find comfort in knowing that even the best of broody mother ducks experience some loss in every clutch they sit on. Under natural incubation, a hatch rate between 50% and 70% is typical.
Another Bucky Update
As previously promised, here’s Bucky and his brand new “holiday cottage”.

His long-time girlfriend, Runtus, who has on many accounts fearlessly defended him against the attacks of bullies, has come to live with him. The pair are settling in nicely.

Despite being the last one to hatch in her cohort, Runtus is anything but the runt. By now, she’s raised 2 batches of chicks and it shows — she’s too tired to take crap from nobody and she won’t tell you twice.


Runtus (left) wasted no time setting up a cozy nest in the master suite.
It also seems she doesn’t approve of the sweater I knitted for Bucky.
Ever since she moved in, I’ve found that sweater trampled on the floor of the coop — no matter how many times I’ve helped Bucky put it back on…
More updates to come — if you enter your email below, new posts will get sent right to your inbox. 🦆 💌
Thank you for following along.
xoxo
P


