Bird Rescue in Buras

When our media tour group first enters the small warehouse of the International Bird Rescue Research Center, I can’t see the bird being washed. Four staff members in protective gear stand around a large sink full of soapy water. A line of caution tape and an eagle-eyed staff member maintain a safe distance between us and the washing area. Then I see a large, bright pink wing rise up out of the suds.

“They’re washing a roseate spoonbill!” I say to my photographer friend Brian. This is the kind of bird we were talking about on the drive to Buras. We saw one fly overhead. But Brian sees it too, and simply says “I know” over his shoulder while rushing to find a better spot to photograph it from.

I have a pen and paper instead of a camera. For a moment, I stand transfixed, watching the bird being gently rubbed and scrubbed with a toothbrush and gloved hands. I recall something I read in IBRRC’s online FAQs.

Q: Do the animals know that you are helping them?

A: No. They are wild animals and highly stressed by handling and captivity. Most likely they regard us as predators.

The spoonbill opens its beak slightly and makes a barely audible noise. It’s about ten feet away from me, surrounded by people, but its small, dark eyes seem to make contact with every person in the room. It must be in the later stages of cleaning because there is no visible oil on its bubble gum pink feathers.

At some point I notice that a staff member is standing five feet behind me, answering questions. I reluctantly turn away from the bird to join the interview.

Mark Russell has been working on saving birds from oil spills for 20 years. He’s been all over, from Maine to California to Alaska and other countries, though he has cut back on travel since having three children. In addition to wildlife rescue, the group also provides training, usually to those who work or study in a related field, on the bird rescue techniques they’ve learned over the years.

“There’s always an oil spill somewhere,” says Russell, “but we can’t always respond.” In places like Nigeria, Darfur, and Sudan, humanitarian crises preclude any bird rescue efforts.

IBRRC has washed more than 700 birds so far in the current Gulf oil spill. The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service and the Louisiana Department of Fisheries collect the oiled birds and are responsible for their release after IBRRC has treated them. Birds are being released in areas far from the oil spill in Texas, Georgia, and Alabama, and are tagged. They have not had a single tagged bird returned to their facility.

From humble beginnings in 1971, IBRRC has become a leading authority in rescuing oiled birds. Among the many things they’ve learned is how to feed different species in captivity. Spoonbills, for example, won’t eat anything that’s already been killed, so the team has been catching live food for them.

The most common bird they’ve seen in this disaster is Louisiana’s state bird, the brown pelican. This species had been threatened for many years, but its population had recovered enough to have been removed from the federal list of endangered and threatened wildlife just five months before the Deepwater Horizon disaster.

This is the worst oil spill Russell has seen. “But we don’t have time to grieve for dead birds or pay attention to any other aspect of the spill,” he says. “We just have to focus on each live bird.”

Outside, a few dozen cleaned pelicans await release. They have been separated into three enclosures by age: adults, juveniles, and chicks. We are not allowed near the adults because the staff  have found that they are more stressed by people. The chicks – which all stand at least 18 inches tall – and the larger, gray-feathered juveniles remain calm as photographers and observers surround their enclosures. They stand on the edges of a rectangular pool, occasionally locking bills, while one flies into the water for a swim. These juveniles will be sent to a center that is experienced in handling them.

The heads of the tall, strikingly patterned adult pelicans are visible in a larger pen farther back. They also remain calm, farther removed from the human visitors. These birds will soon be released into the wild, far inland from the oiled shores.

Rebecca Connor is a  local freelance writer and frequent contributor to the Second Line.

Photo credit: Brian Epstein