Simon Thomsett

Category: Uncategorized | Date: Oct 30 2007 | By: admin

30th Oct 2007.

On the weekend I spent Sat morning with a bloated male cheetah, who was very different to the 3 coalition males we sometimes encounter. He was very much tamer. Jim and Debbie Cavanaugh had spotted him lounging on a dam wall in bright sun and in full view and let me know. Very different to the normally shy wild cheetahs we have here. He had just eaten an enormous amount. He walked past us being pestered by a jackal.

On Sunday morning Dr Paula Kahumbu and her son joined me to look for ‘our’ cheetah. Again Jim found them first and let us know. He has an ability to intuitively know where they are that defies science. This time it was a female, that has 2 cubs, although we didn’t see them.

There is no question that these Athi/Kapiti plains hold one of the largest concentrations of cheetah found anywhere in the world. We were much too complacent about this in the past, possibly due to the persistent lack of interest displayed by NGO and GOs that perhaps rightly focused its resources on parks and reserves and large private or group ranches mostly in the north. Institutionally ignored perhaps, but the facts speak for themselves. Last year for example we knew of 27 cheetah on 4 ranches. Today we know of 11 on 20,000 acres (this does not include what we may assume to be an equal density on an additional 64,000 acres surrounding this population). Populations can double due to the births of many cubs, then rapidly decline due to their high infant mortality. Whatever the case if we compare these densities to almost all protected areas in Kenya, we find it to be the most dense. As such it should raise the conservation profile of the region. Instead urban and industrial development is focused on expanding south east down the Mombasa Road. We have little chance in conserving one of the richest wildlife areas in Kenya, simply because nobody knows about it. We are about to witness the loss of tens of thousands of acres to ‘development’, unless of course we can put in economically competitive but non-destructive alternatives.

Yesterday was spent in Nairobi, getting a ticket to go to India to join a team counting vultures in mid November. I met Mark Jenkins and Joe Petters at Wilson Airport who both informed me that Duchess was fine. Amos was going out each day and leaving her food, and she had impressed a few visitors. Although I understand she is a bit too shy to come down if anyone is around. This is the way it should be of course.

I had intended to drive down last week to see if she was OK and to take more food. What she really needs is a concerted effort to get her hunting. I suspect that she has not yet killed and this may be simply because of the paucity of medium sized to small mammals in her immediate area. I should like to take her on walks to get her to see a few Dik Dik, outside of the high canopy forest. Simply introducing her to the possibility of finding food in this drier location only a few hundred meters from the forested valley would almost certainly create a curiosity in her the visit these areas on her own. It has always been the case in the past. Other released Crowned Eagles, insecure in their new home sometimes hit a mental gridlock in which they seem happy to zoom about their familiar surroundings but can appear very cautious about venturing outside it and broadening their horizons. Sometimes, once through this mental territorial barrier they do not look back and keep moving, often very fast in a seemingly irrational attempt to escape their hacking site. I think that this pattern of movement is consistent only with confusion. They can fly around at home in a few hundred meter blocks for months, but when sudden finding themselves in a new area they attempt to find ‘home’ again but cannot, so they keep moving. The look of relief when you finally track them down with the radio, many kilometres from home is very clear. They look embarrassed, but come down immediately to the glove. Taking them on the long walk back home they look tired and yet happy. When you approach familiar surroundings they fly off with gusto to their favourite perches and do a quick inspection of the area. Sometimes they call. It is a territorial call, and this must surely mean that they recognises the area.

So far Duchess hasn’t made any attempt at moving or hunting, and this is expected. There is no hurry. But I am anxious to see her again, and jealous that others do. To see her in such a great location is wonderful.

But the 6-hr drive is no flippant thing to consider, especially as there is a very treacherous steep climb over a rubble strewn track up the escarpment just as one approaches Ol Donyo Laro. It would take a minimum of 3 days just to visit her. To put a final end to my plans I received a Black Sparrowhawk with spinal and/or head injuries. He could not use his limbs, hold his head straight, feed or defecate when he arrived. Each day he demands that one spends time feeding him, cleaning him, putting a tube down his mouth for food, and up his rear end to relieve him of it. He flops and falls on his head and nearly suffocates. So the first few days is devoted to him. Mwanzia and Jonathan are doing a good job cleaning his box and can feed him, but he requires injections and my time.

Male Black Sparrowhawk (or B Spa) in sling, 30th Oct 2007.

Over the last few days the B Spa has regained some motor control of his left wing and leg. His head is held level, and he can almost eat for himself. Very encouragingly he can now defecate without help. He can spend the day hanging from a chest harness, that just allows his legs to touch the ground. At night he hangs suspended in a big dog box in my sitting room. His tail is strapped together lest he destroy the feathers. It would take him many months longer to grow a new tail, than it would to recover from a broken spine. One thing people forgot is that feathers a semi-permanent. When damaged they do not miraculously grow new ones. It can take over a year. The consequences of a smashed tail or wing feathers often means a near inability to fly. But many kind-hearted people still persist in throwing such hopeless cases into the wind and thinking it ‘flew away.because we never saw it again’.

This B Spa will take a long time to recover. He will have to learn how to fly again. And that will not be accomplished in a cage or shed. Nor will he know how to hunt and he certainly would need months of hard flying before he can hope to chase down their favourite prey, which is doves.

I sometimes get discouraged these days if in the field of wildlife rehabilitation there are those that take an extreme humanitarian stand that defies logic in nature. Wild predators kill. Humans may or may not like it. Some emotive conservationists may not like it and may go out of their way to make sure it does not happen. Pragmatic wildlife people understand that predators hunt and kill everyday, and it is part of life. Here in Kenya we have these divided groups. One should try to please everyone, but not allowing a hawk to kill isn’t sensible. Nor is it reasonable to not allow a hawk, falcon, buzzard eagle or owl the ability to exercise outside of a shed in natural surroundings, ‘just in case it catches something’. Most understand this, even if they do not wish to witness it. Some very reasonable opinions oppose recreational hunting, but may extent this to overlap those, like myself, who wander about the bush with a hawk on hand in search for something for it to chase. I can see how it is easily perceived that one thing may lead to another, and the end result may indeed seem a little too contrived and appear like recreational ‘hunting’. But so far I have always been able to defend the use of ‘falconry’ in raptor rehabilitation. One ancient wildlife management technique just happens to outstrip all others, and be cheap to do and be very rewarding. In many countries it is seen as a necessary tool to get those particularly demanding powerful, heavily wing-loaded species back into the wild.

Without going into too much detail this B Spa, will I hope survive. He will not be thrown in a chicken wire cage to batter himself senseless, but restrained with jesses and a leash. He is almost trained already, hanging pathetically from his swing, he looks forward to his food. He isn’t too fussed about me now cleaning his face and feet after a meal. It is simple to ask him, should he be capable of it to fly to me to get his food. I shall increase this distance to hundreds of meters with luck. His wings may regain co-ordination, and his feet their power. But this will not be enough. He must prove that he can fly, like an athlete. His breast muscle must grow and he must be able to keep pace with his natural quarry. It will not take that much time, and be fun to do if he recovers. Maybe just a few weeks.

Right now he inhibits my work. He is a huge responsibility, and there may come a time when, if he does not improve, I shall have to put him down. I make these decisions many times. It is something I do not share with others. I guess if anyone is reading this, I am sharing it. It may turn out that he survives however. Cross fingers.

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Category: Crowned Eagles | Date: Oct 26 2007 | By: admin

17th Oct 2007

Last night was supposed to be spent listening out in case Duchess got into trouble. She had chosen a lofty tree over some large pools, under which were suspicious tunnels and cleared undergrowth.

Using the logic that lightening never strikes twice the location of the tent was placed on top of elephant flattened area from the night before. But I did have the forethought to place it right on the edge of a 10 ft drop and near a climbable tree full of tangled vines. I ate and got into my flimsy one man tent at about 8.30pm to finish the blog.

My principle fear was Verreaux’s Eagle Owls, who many years ago nearly killed a newly released Crowned Eagle. If these owls called then my plan was……well I wasn’t really too sure. I’d just have to do something, and probably it would be ineffectual. Just when I went to sleep a great commotion and thundering and bellowing meters from the tent woke me up, cold and very sober. One buffalo came within inches smelling the tent entrance. I grabbed my semi (sharp ended machete) slid noiselessly out of my bag and crouched at the back of the tent.

Plan A was to wait until it wandered off.

B, to wait until it stuffed the tent and then calmly slit the back and go down the embankment.

Of course plan A worked, but it did stick its nose on the tent flap and then suddenly spook and run wildly through thick bush. Another group came by, but by then I was up the tree. They milled around well behaved bar an occasional grunt for 2 hours. The baboons barked, and I thought oh oh. I went back to bed when they all left slept well till 5.30am, when they all reappeared.

Duchess was fine, and stared down from above unmoved. Amos came at 7am escorting some plumbers who wanted to fix the water pipe. We checked on Duchess. She had flown over to the spring and was little interested in food.

Around mid morning I confirmed a Bateleur Eagle nest with nearly fledged young in it. Then a male Ayres’s Hawk Eagle bombed Duchess as she sat on an exposed branch. Later a young Augur Buzzard joined in.

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Category: Crowned Eagles | Date: Oct 25 2007 | By: admin

Duchess about to perch on a tree branch. You can just make out her curled talons.

Peter reassured me that Duchess and I were welcome for as long as it takes. He suggested going for a buzz in the plane to check out a few areas further to the south. Areas that had forest, but not that much and away from the main bulk of the highland forests. I declined the offer but felt encouraged by his commitment and knew that Duchess could ask for no better a circumstance.

Amos, Duchess and I went to the spring forest that feeds the camp. It is dis-continuous with the main forest block above, but tall and of sufficient quality to support a struggling juvenile like her. There was more game here too. A few herds of impala, lots of buffalo and elephant. Female Crowned Eagles are fond of impala calves. So food was about. I let her go in the stream where she had a drink before flying into a high tree. The raptor species count went up. One pair of Augur Buzzards on a nest, one very young Gabar Goshawk, one Steppe Buzzard, one Ayres’s Hawk Eagle, one Bateleur, one Harrier Hawk and one African Goshawk. As predicted the initial ‘galloping horse’ census was being disapproved.

Went back to camp, collected my back pack and returned. As evening drew to a close a Harrier Hawk flew and settled by Duchess, now in the top of the very tallest tree. After initial look over, peace reigned. Duchess had been anxious to get as high as possible because of the Baboons that came sauntering by on their way to sleep in the fig trees. These frightened her, and that is a good thing.

I made camp by the running stream directly under Duchess. Elephants had torn up the area last night, so it seemed the most obvious place to pitch camp. The odds being low that they would return for a second night. Earlier in the day there had been a donkey killed by elephants, why it was not clear. Amos returned to camp after accepting that all was well. Caught fresh water crabs with the aid of the headlamp and cooked them. Tasty but you need a lot to get any volume.

Today has seen Duchess fly very well, bathe in the stream and she seems more at home. The other locations had been intimidating and she could easily have flown into a very large and rugged area where retrieval would have been many days work. Here the forest was confined in a 4km section. To stay here and be fed and looked after was logistically much easier.

This is the view of the forest where we were.

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Category: Crowned Eagles | Date: Oct 24 2007 | By: admin

15th Oct 2007-Diary entry

Duchess spent all night in the same high perch on the forest edge.

During the night a pair of Wood Owls patrolled their patch and I upset the male very much by replying to his hoot. It was a miserable hour that followed with him making as threatening a hoot as his tiny frame could emit over the camp.The elephants stayed most of the night at the salt lick, but apart from that it was a good night’s sleep.

I left Duchess at 7.30AM and when I turned around I saw she had vanished. It would make a good field exercise to ask Amos to use the receiver to track her. I found him writing notes on top of the hill and we found Duchess almost immediately.

At 9.30AM a male Crowned Eagle appeared on a mountain ridge. He dived into a patch of trees. Amos and I went to go find him and ended up having a good 3.5 hr walk.

The eastern facing slopes presumably catch the bulk of the rain and here the trees grew big. Podo, pines, cedar, olives, Warburgia stood at tremendous height in one particular valley. It looked like home to Crowned Eagles.

At noon we appeared out of the cool forest on an open hilltop just in time to see the male at 300m. He stooped and rushed past and down behind the ridge with an audible rush of air. Magnificent to be at eye level, but my heart sank. Much worse he turned uttered a call and stooped down to appear with his mate. She was huge. They flew off together high above stooping at each other. I got some fairly good pictures esp of the female falling down with legs stretched out. Some of the pictures of the male show him barrel rolling into an inverted position, then falling vertically into half a roll, back on himself. From the intensity of the display I assume them to be near to egg laying, or that he had noticed an intruder.

As we returned we discussed were else we could release Duchess. This place, as wonderful as it is, harbored a pair that would in time surely find her. The least they would do would be to tolerate her but intimidation would lead to an inhibition to hunt. They could hound her out of the territory or kill her. We were not taking the chance.

Amos had a few ideas closer to the main camp. As we neared her last place of residence we noticed a massive and truculent group of Baboons, and a growling troop of male colobus in the trees. As predicted Duchess had left, probably threatened by these dangerous monkeys. We tracked the signal to a very short tree in a nasty patch of stinging nettles. Waited half an hour, walked around and around it with the radio bleep going full throttle. Silence. My mind came up with every dreadful scenario. But we were both hungry, and if she were ok she would make her appearance. Sure enough around 4pm, she had moved to another tree and it was easy to call her down. Then I exercised her flying across glades and the salt lick marsh. I had walked away some 300m when she suddenly brushed past my face at a terrifying speed and carried on to perch in a spindly tree on the escarpment edge.

Later I put her on a rock where her huge feet were unable to open. Her hind talon is so long and curved that it is impossible to open on a flat surface. So she stood both feet curled while I scrambled down a hill side on rocky terrain. Fed up with waiting and feeling uncomfortable she launched off. On landing she forgot to uncurl her feet, hitting the glove with a punch that took me off my feet and we both rolled down the slope. Annoyed she fluffed up her feathers and strode towards me to jump back up onto the fist. Amos radioed the main camp to see if anyone would pick us up. A car came before sunset. Arriving back at camp to the interest of all.

I felt a little ashamed that our first release was a failure, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

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