
The great blue heron watched closely, as great blue herons do. But this
one wasn't perched in the distance, it was regally watching from just a
few feet away.
This 4-foot-tall bird stood motionless on
Pass-a-Grille's Merry Pier in St. Pete Beach, Fla., while six white
egrets paced close by. Two men were fishing in the Gulf of Mexico and
one, Greg Wells, left his bait bucket uncovered.
Wells threw a net over the side of the dock, turning his back on the bucket.
The heron crept closer, one eye on the angler, one eye on the bucket.
Birds,
particularly herons and egrets, are not typically this comfortable with
people. But these birds have become accustomed to getting their meals
directly from anglers. Some are hand-fed. Others steal fish from right
under an angler's nose, at their peril.
Wells pulled his net out
of the water and shook it on the pier. One small pin fish fell onto the
wooden dock, and he quickly placed it in his white plastic bait bucket.
"They'll sneak right over there and help themselves," Wells
drawled in his West Virginia accent as he shook his net a second time,
catching the birds' attentions. "They're just moochers. They don't even
work for it."
Florida's seabirds have adapted to easy meals on
piers and along the shoreline. As the birds get tamed, Tampa Bay bird
rescuers see more than 1,000 fishing-related injuries per year. The
"mooching" habit is passed down to offspring, creating generations of
birds who can't feed themselves.
"They just associate everything about fishermen with food," said Damen Hurd, wildlife rehabilitator at the
Pelican Man's Bird Sanctuary
in Sarasota, Fla. "Over a period of time, [the birds] hear voices and
think there's food down there. They're not stupid. They see a food
source and they go down there."
Worse, young birds mimic their parents.
"They
never learn to hunt on their own," said Melissa Dolinsky, director of
rehabilitation services at the Sarasota bird sanctuary, adding that
starved birds are brought in regularly during the fishing and tourism
off-season.
The birds' adaptation to the easy food source has
led to birds dive-bombing bait when it's thrown into the water. Hurd
said the birds think it's another handout and often get tangled in the
lines and caught by the hooks.
It's unnatural, he says.
"They would never even come near people or consider bait on the end of the pole an option if people didn't feed them," he said.
Garett
Hubbard, the 22-year-old captain of the Miss Pass-a-Grille deep sea
fishing boat, has hooked more than a dozen birds since he was eight
years old.
"It's a pain," he said. "You never want to hook them and it's sad for the bird."
Hubbard's
most memorable bird-hooking happened while fishing at the Merry Pier.
He baited his line, set his pole down and walked away. While his back
was turned, a pelican swallowed his bait and got hooked. The pelican
started swimming away with pole still attached.
He jumped in the water to get the bird and was able to remove the hook.
Karen Benzel, public affairs director at the
International Bird Rescue Research Center
in Cordelia, Calif., agrees that it's unnatural. She says seabirds,
especially herons and egrets, typically stay at least 10 to 20 feet
away from people.
"They are very wary of humans and in Florida they've become a lot more habituated to humans," she said.
If
a fisherman reels in a bird and either takes out the hook or calls
local wildlife rescuers for help, the bird will most likely be fine.
Wildlife rescuers assist in unhooking or untangling the bird and will
take it in for a medical evaluation and treatment, he said.
But
some anglers go with their gut instinct and cut the line, freeing the
bird with yards of fishing line dangling from their wings and throats.
The bird then gets tangled in the line, which can wrap
tightly and amputate legs or wings, or cause irritations and
infections. Often, the line gets snagged on a post or a tree and the
bird injures itself while trying to break free. The ones who can't free
themselves starve, Hurd said.
Hurd said birds often come in with more than one hook attached to them, which isn't just bad luck.
"There's a reason," he said. "Fishermen are feeding them too much."
More than 1,000 birds are brought to the Sarasota bird hospital each year with fishing line and hook injuries, Hurd said.
Dolinsky
said helping a hooked a bird isn't easy. About 80 percent of Florida's
seabirds are gentle, but they are still wild enough to defend
themselves.
Pelicans have the gentlest bite and usually stay
calm once reeled to the dock. The bird to watch out for is the great
blue heron, which in addition to its hard bite will try to stab the
handler in the head, she said.
She recommends covering any bird, especially its eyes, with a towel or shirt before trying to handle it in any way.
According
to Hurd, tourists are more to blame for this bird taming than local
fishers, but the problem can be solved at the local level if docks
inform more people about not taming these wild animals.
"You'll
see that if you stop feeding [the birds] and mind your business and
keep your bait covered, sooner or later they will not see that area as
a food source anymore," he said.
For more information on the Pelican Man's Bird Sanctuary and proper
procedures for dealing with birds injured by fishing lines and hooks,
visit their Web site or call your local wildlife rescue organization.
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