In the summer wildfires, what would the condors do? When flames and smoke tore through their Ventana Wilderness sanctuary, how many would survive?
These California condors were raised in captivity. Some grew up in large aviaries with two-parent families, and others were fed by condor puppets and raised in condor playgroups (most unnatural for a species in which every child is an only child and neighbors never drop by for a cup of carrion). All were introduced into the wild without the benefits of the ancient condor culture, passing through release pens, decked with electronic transmitters, monitored by worried biologists.
When fire hit, the Coast Guard airlifted out seven teenaged birds and their guidance counselor (a somewhat older and more experienced bird) who were in an aviary on the sanctuary awaiting release. But 43 birds were on the loose, and no one knew how they were doing. Nor could the biologists get in to the sanctuary. Usually the birds' wild food is supplemented by government handouts of roadkilled deer and stillborn calves, but in this time of trial they had to go without. (They get dead rats too. For all I know they get government cheese.)
No venison, no beef? No worries. Instead of sticking around and hosing down their homes in a desperate attempt to save their dwellings, the condors went to the coast and had the seafood platter. They flew to Big Sur and lunched on a decayed sea lion and a dead whale. They didn't go home until the fires were out and the yellow tape was down.
They knew the terrain, because this wasn't the first time they'd been to the coast. The sanctuary is inland, but ever since the condors were reintroduced, “we noticed the birds starting to really home in on the coast more and more,” senior biologist Joe Burnett said recently at the SF Zoo. “We didn't realize the historical significance of it till we started looking thorough the notes.” There hadn't been condors in Big Sur for more than a hundred years.
The excellent to-hell-with-this-let's-go-to-the-beach survival tactics adopted by these condors show the value of exploration. These birds knew their options.
If you are ever basking on a sandy beach, or lying on the cliff at Esalen, and you are lucky enough to see a condor drifting above, looking down at you thoughtfully, think of this inspirational tale. Do not focus on the idea that a giant vulture has you in its sights. Remember, they only eat dead things. Be supportive; be safe. Wave!
Historically (like since the Ice age until quite recently) Condors were a coastal species ranging all along the Pacific Coast up through Canada) and their primary food was dead beached whales. So was this some sort of evolutionary Burger King memory wisdom cutting in? Dunno. Of course, people owning beachfront property aren't overjoyed at the prospect of looking out over their expensive view and seeing -- for several months at a time -- a decomposing Grey Whale stretching from here to there, with condors and ravens all munching away happily.
Dick Smith's wonderful 1978 book "Condor Journal: The History, Mythology and Reality of the California Condor" was a fine source of info on the birds (even including records of them making themselves pets, as in hacked out, returning to their humans every evening or so.
These days, beached whales and sea lions are pretty much the only food they can get that aren't liable to contain lead shot.
The Condors' ecosystem was huge, involves the circulation of the entire Pacific Basin from the Bering Straits to Antarctica, with whales migrating and depending on krill and THAT isn't coming back.
Posted by: Saintperle | August 14, 2008 at 04:40 PM