The Cormorant Cunundrum

After hearing about my budding interest in birds, my dear friend Kathleen brought me a collection of essays by naturalist Lyanda Lynn Haupt entitled Rare Encounters with Everyday Birds.

I read along happily, emitting random chirps of joy at her charming stories and insights.  Then I got to her essay on the cormorant.  The luckless waterbird had apparently been cast aside by the Western bird community as ugly, uninteresting, and unevolved – basically less bird than thou.  The hapless bird was also vilified by the fishing community for poaching their crop – which they probably did, but not enough to justify the “culling” free-for-all the EPA granted, especially when compared to the effects of other birds and environmental changes.

The cormorant was considered less-evolved because it did not waterproof its feathers like most waterbirds (ergo their classic air-dry, spread-wing stance).  Less-interesting because it was too easy to find and study.  And ugly because it was black and had a “reptilian” appearance.  It was considered dangerous to the fishing industry because it was there.

While I can’t pretend to understand the impulses of individuals who breed/capture/kill living creatures on an industrial level, I was shocked to find a birder pissing on any particular bird.  Is one bird really better than another?  Apparently, the answer was yes.  Haupt admitted her original prejudice, but also her shock at the stiff-kneed stance writers of the bird canon took on this point.

Happily, I was unaware of western bird bias when I first encountered the cormorant.  This was in China, fifteen years ago, on the Li River where fishermen have raised and trained cormorant to fish since 317 B.C.E.  According to Haupt, a fisherman trains cormorant hatchlings to return fish seven out of eight times, allowing the bird to have the eighth catch.  In practice, a tether around the neck prevents the cormorant from eating larger fish but allows smaller ones to pass through.  But the cormorant often refuse to continue after the seventh dive until the tether is removed, proving their ability to learn and count at least up to eight – which is seven more than my cat and at least three more than my tax guy.

When I saw my first cormorant, I was unaware of this bounty of trivia as well.  All I saw was a large dark bird with an elegant long neck on the bow of a narrow bamboo raft.  An equally slim man at the rear used a bamboo pole to move and guide the boat.  He calls out to the bird in a local dialect and the cormorant takes wing, skims the surface of the river, then dives in.  His heavy bones and water-trapping feathers, I know now, help him reach the fecund depths of the river.*  And his four webbed toes, to the top-riding duck’s measly three, propel him fast and far.

After an impossibly long disappearance, the cormorant arises and heads back with the slow flapping wings of a powerful bird at quarter speed.  He lands, drops his catch into the basket in the center of the boat, and returns placidly to his spot at the bow.  The fisherman sings an ancient song of thanks.

It was a legacy of a different time – when humans were aware and respectful of the powers of the creatures around them.  Eastern cultures celebrate the cormorant and provide for them well. 

There are lessons to be learned here.  Or maybe just broad generalizations to make. . . .

While I understand the desire to obsessively note, categorize, and classify the world around us in an attempt (I hope) to sift through knowledge and deepen understanding, this all too often shifts to the tendency to assign values to those classifications: striking, rare, useful, odd. . . tall, athletic, symmetric, blonde.  And once you take a personal bias and justify it in reason, you’re headed towards some dark murky waters.

Western birders didn’t like the cormorant because it was strange-looking and black?

Trust no one.

 

* up to 55 – 60 meters deep

Low Rider: local cormorant taking it easy

Ready to eat?

The Air-Dry Stace

In the Galapagos

Batik from China

Optional Reading

General Information:
http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/BirdGuide/Great_Cormorant_dtl.htm
Photos:
http://www.pbase.com/nicolebouglouan/great_cormorant
“Study” on the dangers of cormorants for fisheries:
http://www.nipr.ac.jp/~penguin/Official/Personal/Yan/stock/pdf/arctic.pdf

Gawking at Geese

Clearly, my ideas of posting some well-written, carefully considered piece of writing every week was too ambitious.  So just some quick thoughts this time:

If you live in San Francisco (especially near Golden Gate park) and hear some geese honking overhead, look up.  Odds are good you’ll see two full-sized Canadian geese and two miniatures.  Exact same coloring and proportions, but one third the size!

I don’t know if they’re in the same family, but I saw a string of baby geese a month ago by Stowe Lake.  It’s amazing how fast kids grow up….

Last month...

Go away NOW.

Babies facing off

Did you know that Canadian Geese are actually Canada Geese? Anyone saying anything else is apparently *not* a birder.  But as an English major and theoretically, a writer, I say when everyone knows what you’re saying — even when it’s wrong — that’s that.  And in a few years, the dictionaries will make it official.

FYI, from now on, I’ll be posting optional reading about whatever it is I’m writing about.  Those will also end up in the sidebar on the right.

That’s it for now. Keep your ears open…

More about geese:
Fun:
http://www.gpnc.org/canada.htm
Facts:
http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/BirdGuide/Canada_Goose_dtl.html

Mallard Mayhem

The Mallards are cracking me up.

If you’ve been anywhere near a body of water, you’ve probably seen a Mallard – the males have green shiny heads, the typical duck shape, and a stunning purple wing patch.  They’re what we think of when we think of ducks.*

With their ubiquiosity, you might not look twice anymore.  They’re kids’ birds — floating placidly in pairs, sleeping on the bank with heads tucked under wing — borrr-ing.  Nothing like a flashy heron or hawk.

But have you seen a Mallard in the springtime?  They might look like portraits of marital harmony the rest of the year, but like most birds, Mallards pair off in the spring.  And it ain’t pretty.

It’s spring in San Francisco and the Mallards are going bonkers.

Mallard Mack:  I’m just floating around with my girl, Martha.  Boy, it is a nice sunny day on our lake.

Mallard Chip:  Quack, I’m ansy.  Quack, where are all the chicks?

Mallard Chuck:  QUACK, me too.  Quack quack.

Mallard Chester:  Quack.  What’s up with this — we hit the wrong lake?

Mallard Chip:  Wait, quack, check her out — over by the old bird. . . QUACK QUACK quack, you know what I mean.

Mallard Chuck:  Yeah, but, quack quack, he’s pretty big.

Mallard Chip:  He’s quack quack oooold.  We can take him, easy — come on, quack quack, winner gets the girl. . . .

The young punks ease over, paddling soft, approaching the couple.  Mack catches on and turns for a face off.  Chipper with his beak gives Mack a poke.  Mack pokes him back — poke, poke.  

Chip goes in again, his buddies backing him up, poke Poke, POKE!  They all get into it, wings flapping, water spashing everywhere! 

Martha backs away as her mate Mack fends them off valiantly.  Before long, Martha’s had enough of the splashing (Birds!) and takes wing. 

In a craze of wings and water, they all follow.  Mack catches up and blocks the challenging juveniles from her tail.  They circle the lake, wing up and over the tall pines, then come back for a landing, Mack’s position still intact. 

The young punks land and catch their breath a safe distance away.  It’s a standoff, for now.  

After a while, they creep close again – poke. . . .

So the next time you look up and think those Mallards are just flying around having fun, take a closer look — if you see a brown female in the lead, and buncha males following, you know it’s spring. I got ten bucks on Mack.  

 

* Live ducks that is. My dad thinks of crisp brown skin and hoisin sauce.

P.S. I didn’t have my camera on that eventful day, but they were still at it days later…