When I left you last, dear readers, you were thick in the throes of the up-by-the-bootstraps narrative of my betting life. To review: in 10 years as a sot, scoundrel, and citizen of the track, I have placed a total of six bets, winning two, for a net profit of almost $12. I have won on horses. I have won on dogs. And now I turn to a greater challenge: the Tasmanian Shy Albatross.

Birdlovers, inveterate gamblers, and other such shady figures are already well aware of the Big Bird Race; it is safe to say that the entire Southern Hemisphere is a-squawk with news of the event. For the uninitiated, a primer: the Big Bird Race follows the progress of 17 albatross as they make their annual migration from Tasmania to South Africa — a 6,000 mile course that is fraught with high winds, constant peril, and the occasional snack of fresh-caught fish. Race odds are set by the British book house Ladbroke’s, and bettors can wager not just on the winner, but the winning stable, the stable with the most finishers, and on weekly “distance traveled west” figures. The birds have already taken flight — last I checked, Fleetwood had the lead, with Geronimo and the Rocket closing fast — but betting is still open, with odds adjusted according to current position.

The annual Big Bird Race is organized by Ladbroke’s, the Conservation Foundation, and the Tasmanian government to draw attention to the threats albatross face from longline fishing techniques. Longline fishermen drag thousands of baited hooks on lines trailing from their boats; seabirds often get caught in the lines and drown. It is estimated that 300,000 seabirds die from longlining each year, and several albatross species are facing extinction as a result.

In addition to providing race details to anxious betters around the globe, the satellite transmitters worn by the birds will be used by scientists to study migratory patterns of the Tasmanian Shy Albatross.

I’ve studied the forms and am ready to put my reputation on the line. I’m sorely tempted by the well-named Eighteen Stone of Idiot — a bird known more as feisty than fit — but he may be carrying too much weight for the long haul. (Easy on the cuttlefish, Idiot. This ain’t no cakewalk here.) Instead, I’m laying my money on White Mirabelle, a bantamweight from Pedra Branca who is currently running fifth, biding her time along the southern coast of Australia. There’s something in those eyes, that crown, the slope of her beak: intensity. I smell a winner.

(Jay Hardwig is a writer and teacher. He can be reached at smardwig@charter.net)