Home Again

The crane handler is in the open pen with the puppet extension on his arm, training the cranes in the ways of the wild Far away from day-to-day happenings in Northfield, and even Vermont, and, most likely, far away from your thoughts, the cycle of the Whooping Crane Recovery Project begins anew. On June 10th, the Class of 2009 was complete: the final chick hatched at Patuxent Wildlife Research Center in Patuxent, Maryland. At this USGS site, just west of the frantic pace of Washington, D.C., a grand total of 26 Whooping Crane chicks are cheeping, pecking, splashing and frolicking.

The chicks are in varying stages of training by their white-clothed and silent human handlers. Armed with a hand-held puppet which extends beyond the sleeve of their shroud, the handlers teach the chicks basic life skills: first, drink, and eat "crane chow" which is a blend of food-stuffs in pellet form important for their diet; second, respond to the brood call vocalization from an MP3 player which simulates the parents' call; and third, monitor the socialization process, as cranes aggressively seek dominance and maintain a hierarchy. Without supervision, a young crane's aggressive attacks could seriously injure, or even kill, another bird.

Christine Barnes is a resident of Northfield and volunteers at St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge in St. Marks, Florida. For further information on the recovery project, go to operationmigration.org. Much of what these birds must learn has been compiled by animal behaviorists, and broken into small steps within the framework of operant conditioning. It is a fascinating body of work, and the researchers on this team have been challenged mightily to understand the ways and needs of these birds in order to train them for bare-bones survival.

As critical as the basic skills are, another bizarre set of skills is required for these youngsters to survive. Before the eggs even hatch at Patuxent, the recorded sound of an ultra-light engine is played near the incubator. The young birds must be de-sensitized to the noise so that they learn to follow the ultra-light, as the pilot/handler guides the chicks south on their first migration to St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge. They must be ready for migration by October, and the conditioning program is intense and urgent in preparation.

As a modified ultra-light, called a 'trike', slowly motors around the perimeter of a fenced area containing the chicks-in-training, the handler/pilot uses the puppet to dispense mealworms, a food favorite. Over time, the chicks become less frightened by the noise, and begin to focus on the food, the recorded vocalizations, and their handler. Desired behavior is rewarded. Trust is a key factor, and the handlers take great care not to push the learning too far. Small gains daily, steady as she goes, focus on the task. Not a job to be taken lightly. Long, hot hours in a white shrouded costume, head covered, limiting breathing - commands patience and commitment. Few are up to the task, day in, day out, six months of the year. The birds come first.

The thirty-eight day span among the hatchlings means the early May chicks are really a developmental stage beyond the others. On June 25th, the first cohort, a group of nine of the oldest birds, will travel on the wings of a private plane north and west to Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in Wisconsin. 'Cohort' means "a group or band united in some struggle". The young cranes will continue their training with their handlers in this more remote wildlife refuge. When it's time to migrate in October, the birds will follow an ultra-light to St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge on a route which hopefully will be theirs for generations to come.

On the lighter side: a decadelong debate is coming to a head around the issue of whether to name the birds or continue to number them, as in the past. Some argue that numbering them imparts no human attribute, leaving them wild as they are intended to be. But then, when the captivating "Boston Legal" television series concluded last fall, what die-hard fan could resist the opportunity to name this year's first-hatched chick, 'Denny Crane'? Ah, well.

While these cranes may be far from your thoughts, they are never far from mine. The recovery project takes on special meaning when you bear witness to people who are working day and night, every day, for years, to help this project succeed. It takes on special meaning when you watch the birds learning to be wild, and know the uphill struggle they face. And it takes on special meaning because it's a visible and public journey to make reparations for some of our blind and uneducated blunders over time: perhaps, in this case, we can right a wrong, perhaps reverse the certain path to extinction we created through our actions. In the process, perhaps we have learned greater sensitivity, deeper lessons, in how to care for wild creatures and not drive them to oblivion. Where there's life, there's hope.