A Conservation Success Story in the Making: California Brown Pelican
With all the less-than-great news floating around out there these days about the future of the environment in general, and birds in particular, it's refreshing to pause and reflect on the success stories the world of conservation has seen in the fifty years since the implementation of the Endangered Species Act in December of 1973.
While human activity has undoubtedly caused bird populations to decrease drastically in that span of time, (and sadly those numbers may continue to drop) conservationists across North America have managed to make some pretty incredible changes for the better for a number of species as well. The Endangered Species Act has protected over 1,600 species in its fifty-year history, and is credited with saving nearly 300 species from extinction.
The California Condor is one such example, a species that would be gone today if it weren't for the incredible work of a massive team of researchers and conservationists. Other success stories include those of the Bald Eagle, Peregrine Falcon and Sea Otter. While plenty of species still teeter on the brink, like California's Snowy Plover and Mountain Plover, these conservation success stories remind us what positive changes can be brought about when groups of concerned, compassionate and highly dedicated people work together to protect a species and its habitat.
On the coast of central California, another example of conservation success glides silently past on wings that span over six feet, a quiet reminder of what was nearly lost half a century ago.
As numerous as Brown Pelicans seem today, it's hard to imagine there was a time, not so long ago, when this species was in danger of disappearing entirely.
Prehistoric-looking, and sometimes described as "gawky," Brown Pelicans are massive seabirds with several unique physiological and behavioral adaptations that make them a truly remarkable species. While squadrons of pelicans (yes, flocks of pelicans are indeed called "squadrons") in synchronized flight formations is a thing of beauty and grace, their plunge-diving feeding antics really are somewhat awkward and amusing to watch... especially when young birds are just learning the ropes! Check out this video to see more!
Above left: Juvenile Brown Pelican (Monterey, September.) Above right: Adult Brown Pelican, non-breeding plumage (Monterey, November). This adult is just beginning to display his winter-spring breeding plumage, as seen by his bright red gular pouch. But come spring, in full breeding plumage, the snowy white neck of the non-breeding Brown Pelican turns a rich, cinnamon-brown. The bird below, photographed in early June, has lost most of the bright red color on the gular pouch, but still retains the dark neck feathers of the breeding season.
The subspecies of Brown Pelican known as the California Brown Pelican breeds largely in the Gulf of California; around 20% of its total population breeds on the Channel Islands, off the coast of southern California. Following their winter-spring breeding season, California Brown Pelicans disperse north; numbers peak in the Monterey area in the summer and fall, though some do stick around all year. While young Brown Pelicans become independent only a few months after hatching, it takes three to five years for individuals to reach maturity and begin breeding; likely, it's these nonbreeding adults that are here throughout the year.
Visit the coast these days, and you are nearly guaranteed a sighting of these remarkable birds. But fifty years ago, that was not the case.
In the 1970's, the formerly abundant California Brown Pelican faced extinction: Researchers counted a mere 466 pelican nests across their range during the breeding season of 1978. The precipitous decline in Brown Pelicans nationwide began with their persecution in the early 1900's, as the large fish-eating birds were seen as direct competitors with the fishing industry. By the post-war era, the widespread use of new pesticides was taking a massive toll on bird populations, particularly on iconic species like Bald Eagles, Peregrine Falcons and Brown Pelicans. A pesticide called endrin, used to control insects, rodents and birds, came on the scene in 1950 and had an immediate effect, killing pelicans directly. Indirectly, the insecticide DDT worked its way up the food chain, concentrating in top predators (like the aforementioned species of birds) where it affected birds' calcium metabolism and caused the birds to lay eggs with weak, thin eggshells that readily broke under the weight of the incubating parents. Effects of these chemicals in the environment were devastating. In 1972, shortly before the Endangered Species Act was passed, DDT was banned in the United States, and, protected under the Act, most affected species have been able to make a slow but steady comeback.
Protection of Brown Pelicans was so successful that Atlantic and Gulf Coast populations were removed from the Endangered Species list in 1985; the California Brown Pelican was delisted in 2009, and now an estimated 70,680 pairs of these special birds breed across their range in Southern California and Mexico. Happily, California Brown Pelicans are now considered a species of "least concern," meaning that their populations appear to be in good health, and in no danger of extinction, at least for the time being.
The simple reality of the time in which we live is that breeding and foraging habitat for species such as the Brown Pelican continues to be under constant pressure from development, climate change and pollution.
Oil spills and the health of marine fisheries are at the top of the list of concerns regarding the future sustained health of Brown Pelican populations. Pelicans tend to hang out near harbors and shipping channels, where the risk of oil contamination is highest. The success of breeding colonies on the Channel Islands and in the Gulf of California is dependent on healthy populations of key forage species (namely, anchovy and sardine), which have dropped drastically in recent years and may be contributing to lower breeding success in this part of the Brown Pelican's range. Disturbance of breeding colonies can also lead to nesting failure, as spooked parents may panic and crush the eggs in their nests. And like all seabirds and waterfowl, pelicans of any age can meet their demise after becoming entangled in fishing gear that has been negligently disposed of or abandoned.
The sight of large groups of these funny, prehistoric birds floating and loafing around beaches and piers up and down California's coast is something most of us probably take for granted.
Seeing them today, one would never know that fifty years ago, we nearly lost California Brown Pelicans entirely.
That is why these stories of conservation success matter: To remind us that our actions matter, that we really are the stewards of countless species and the habitats we share with them, and therefore, we have an active role to play in their survival. Their wellbeing is our responsibility. We can choose to ignore the problems, do nothing but look out for our own bottom line and let species like the Brown Pelican dwindle and eventually die out, or we can take responsibility for our actions as humans and ensure that species like these will continue to enjoy healthy populations and productive habitats in which to thrive.
We've lost far too much already. So let's remember and celebrate the conservation success stories, like that of the Brown Pelican, and let them motivate us to do all we can to ensure that we don't add any more species to the terrible list of what we have lost.
Semi-related aside: If you're an avid reader and bibliophile, as I am, I'd like to recommend two books that have given me an encouraging perspective on environmental issues in North America over the last seventy or eighty years. In 1953, birder and illustrator Roger Tory Peterson and his British colleague James Fisher traveled 30,000 miles around the continent exploring North America's habitats and wildlife. They wrote about their travels in their book, Wild America. North American wildlife in the mid-century was in a serious crisis: the rage for feathers in ladies hats had ravaged bird populations; the post-war boom was eating up land and dumping chemicals into the environment at a truly alarming rate; America's burgeoning car fetish was only adding to the load of pollutants in the air; plastics were just arriving on the scene; and so much more. At the time of Peterson and Fisher's journey, things were not looking good. Fifty years later, in 2003, naturalist and author Scott Weidensaul retraced their steps, visiting the places they had visited, seeking out the species they had encountered. And he too wrote about what he discovered in his book, Return to Wild America. While Weidensaul found some habitats gone entirely, and others altered beyond recognition, the overall tone of the book is positive: people were more conscious about how their actions affect wildlife populations; DDT had been banned; the Endangered Species Act had been signed; efforts were being made to curb emissions and generate cleaner energy. Overall, the environment was healthier than it had been fifty years before.
And that, like the story of our pelicans, is something to celebrate.
Comments
Post a Comment