Catalina Banding

Never before in my life have I felt so alive – so squeamish to the pinch, so calmed by warming zephyrs. Often, I’ll close my eyes in hopes of forming sensory memories dominated by smells, sounds, and feelings, neglecting my sense of sight that so often overrides all other perception. For now, it’s only the errant wind on my face, the subtle smell of blooming buckwheat, and the long rapid trill off towhees. Life is calm and collected here; if I were to have the audacity to bring with me the slightest worry of ordinary concern to this spot on top of this ridge, I should well deserve a harsh rebuking from all of those enduring the many platitudes of life cooped up in 9-5 offices.

My work schedule this year has been surreal, allowing ample time to explore the plains, foothills, and mountains of life – literally and figuratively. I have 8 days on/6 days off working on the Northern Channel Islands as a field biologist tracking the movement patterns and nesting success of a population of bald eagles Haliaetus luecocephalus reintroduced here in the early 1980’s. Ever since the 50’s, the pesticide DDT has had detrimental impacts on many marine-dependent birds. Brown pelicans Pelicanus occidentalis, peregrine falcons Falco peregrinus, and bald eagles are a few of the species that were hit the hardest. DDT breaks down calcium deposits, which results in birds laying thin-shelled eggs and accidentally breaking them during incubation. In 1978, Dave Garcelon founded the Institute for Wildlife Studies (IWS) in an attempt to restore the bald eagle to the islands of southern California. For over 25 years, Biologists with IWS have been removing the contaminated eggs from wild nests and replacing them with dummy eggs. The real eggs are then brought back to a facility where the eggs are cared for in artificial incubators, the chicks are hatched and then fostered back into the nests. These nest manipulations have been done only on Santa Catalina Island where historically DDT levels have been the highest. Many birds have successfully fledged from the 5 nests on this island and have dispersed northward to the Northern Channel Islands of Anacapa, Santa Cruz, and Santa Rosa. These are the birds I routinely monitor.

This year the program on Catalina was extremely successful with a record-setting 11 hatched chicks. 7 of the eaglets hatched after being incubated in the lab and the remaining 4 hatched in the wild. This was the first year Biologist Peter Sharpe refrained from removing eggs from the 2 nests that have been consistently showing lower levels of DDT within the past few years. As a result, both Pinnacle Rock and Seal Rocks nests were naturally successful for the first time in over half a century! This certainly is indicative of lower concentrations of DDT in marine sediments around Catalina.

This past week the eaglets had reached the age of 8 weeks. At this age, they have grown nearly the size of their parents and are still unable to fly. It is the perfect opportunity for Biologists to band and mark the birds in order to keep track of their future movements. First, we attach a leg band that includes a personal identification number. 2-patagial wing-markers are then clipped into the upper wing (an orange tag is used for Catalina birds and a blue tag is used for Santa Cruz birds) and a GPS transmitter backpack is mounted around the neck. Lastly, measurements are taken and blood is drawn for later sex determination.

All of the nests on Catalina are located on rocky pinnacles adjacent to the ocean – some are not the easiest to get to. The combination of steep approaches, loose substrate, and dive-bombing adult eagles make a few of the hikes downright treacherous. Karen, another research assistant working on the project, apparently lost her footing twice while scrambling to Pinnacle Rock. Luckily, her backpack broke both falls. The helmet on her head also provided ample protection. Pete actually required that helmets should be worn at a few of the nests not because of falling rocks but because of vehement eagles. Earlier this year, Pete was clipped in the back of the head by K-33, the assaulting male at the Twin Rocks nest. The attack was kept low profile so as not to unravel a bad reputation for the bird we are trying to save.

Fortunately, this year it wasn’t necessary for me to deal with Pinnacle Rock’s ghastly approach and Twin Rocks’ ill-tempered male. I helped with banding the chicks at Two Harbors and Seal Rocks. These two nests each have their own unique attributes: Two Harbors is up on an exposed ridge above an isthmus (some say the ridge resembles a pregnant woman lying on her back with the nest located at the tip of her chin). Seal Rocks is on an east-facing cliff, nestled in the shadow of a scrub oak Quercus pacifica. Its approach is steep and loaded with loose rocks but upon arrival, it feels as if one is climbing into the recesses of a tree fort.

We had safely scrambled down to the Seal Rocks nest where Pete had in his arms one of the 2 chicks. He quietly passed the frightened bird to Steffanie, his assistant, and proceeded to get the second chick within his grasp. In order not to scare the eaglets off the nest, Pete approaches slowly with a curved stick. He uses this stick to apply support to their backs so as to prevent them from taking a long tumble downward out of the nest. This pressure also guides the bird closer to him, whereupon he uses his free hand to grab it above the talons.

Once Pete had hold of the second bird, he passed it my direction, instructing me to put my index finger between both legs while using my surrounding fingers to control each individual leg. Once I had a firm grip, I tucked the bird under my left shoulder (like a feathered football), ensuring that both wings were properly folded inward. I immediately took a seat on the most comfortable and secure place I could find. This happened to be in the shade of the oak tree where a strong wind had recently gained intensity. Around the corner, boulders blocked the wind and a rocky slab sat in direct sunlight, so we quickly moved in that direction, walking slowly along the precarious ledge.

Jess Dooley, a researcher who has been working on this project since 2001, told me to find a spot where I’d be comfortable for a good half hour. After all, I’d have to hold this bird tight as it suffered through the torments of such necessary harassment. After I had found an adequate sitting spot (hardly comfortable), Jess began taking measurements on the bill and talons. After that, she extended the wing opposite my armpit, injected a needle into the brachial artery, and began pumping it to draw blood. She took her time stitching on the GPS transmitter backpack and attaching both orange wing markers.

Banding bald eagle chicks on Catalina Island was a new and exciting experience for me. Never before have I been that close to something so wild. However, it is unfortunate we have to taint their beauty by attaching these big, gaudy wing markers and cumbersome looking backpacks. It’s just not the same as when we first arrived at the nest to find chicks that were completely undifferentiated from the surrounding wilderness. I look forward to the day when this population of eagles no longer needs human support and can fly freely without these accouterments that so vulgarly detract from their beauty.