A very dry February.

Virtually the whole of South Africa is experiencing rain and in some places, flooding. All except for the Western Cape.  We are in the grip of the worst drought in thirty years.  The dams have only two months worth of water left and as a consequence, water usage has been severly reduced and reduced again.  Fines for water usage outside of the stipulations are harsh.  Personally I think the implementation of restrictions was too little, too late.  Our household has always been aware that water is precious and recycled where possible.  Now most people are recycling water from every available source.  We are showering in tubs, collecting the warm-up water from showers and washing up, washing machines are watering our thirsty gardens, the rain tank manufacturers are doing great business, but the tanks are standing empty, downpipes have plastic bags attached to them in the hope of catching any scant rainfall.  The soil is dry, the grass is brown, plants have wilted and the birds are thirsty.  I fill a small container in the garden for them with the clean warm-up water which they dip into often.  It angers me when I see people who have no excuse to be ignorant of the crisis, openly watering their lawns.  When there is no water at all, I would like to see what good a green lawn will do?  On another dry note, I decided to make February an alcohol-free month.  Lime and soda being the tipple of choice. People were somewhat taken aback when I refused an alcoholic drink.  South Africa tends to be a nation of drinkers and socialising invariably includes alcohol.  The first week was quite hard because I had been in the habit of pouring a well-iced glass of white wine in the evenings to accompany the sunset watch.  Once week two was over, that need out of habit had dwindled.  Week three I found that I was feeling more energetic and a little holier than thou. . .  I knew I was going to ace the challenge I had set myself.  Now with two days left to go, I am contemplating a life with minimal alcohol, if any at all.  So all in all a very dry February.

A waddle, a colony and a gulp.

I have a passion for wildlife.  I have been interested in all things wild since I was a youngster.  I wanted to be a vet, but my lack of aptitude for maths negated that so I became a paramedic.  I have always had the notion that one day I would put my medical skills to use with wild creatures exclusively.  After the tragic murder of Kommetjie's Eco-Warrior, Wally Petersen, I felt compelled, in my small way, to contribute to his legacy.  It was suggested that the Southern African Foundation for the Conservation of Coastal Birds would be a good place to begin.  I phoned the organisation and found that they offered a free two day course learning how to respond to, handle and stabilise sick and injured seabirds.  I live on the coast so I decided that this course could provide me with valuable information.  This week I made the two hour trip to SANCCOB's head office in Tableview to become a first responder for seabirds.  SANCCOB, (the N is just for fun) founded in 1968, is known for their programme that saves oiled penguins, but it is far, far more involved than that.  I arrived to a warm welcome from Dylan who was to be my teacher and was sent to don oilskins, clear safety glasses for eye protection, wellies, a glove on my left hand and neoprene arm protectors.  Next I met a pen of around thirty deceptively cute African penguins.  Plus minus thirty centimetres of wiggly peckiness.  I was taught how to catch them and hand them to the volunteers who were medicating them.  Then they either went for a swim or were put into another pen.  They were all African (previously known as Jackass) penguins in different stages of maturity.  Even the youngsters, otherwise known as Blues, are incredibly strong.  The African penguin is endangered and is a very stressy bird so minimal handling, calmness and quiet around them is a must.  I found myself chatting to them, in hushed tones of course.  After being pooped on and nipped, it was time to have a tour of the premises. This included a peek into the chick rearing unit complete with incubators (through the window) the ICU and an induction video.  A lovely man named Alex took us through those paces.  Volunteers from all over the world come to SANCCOB to complete their internships on penguin and seabird care.  Everyone I met was busy either scrubbing out pens, feeding, spraying down mats, medicating, preparing fish smoothies, defrosting and sorting fish, washing the mountains of towels that are used, disinfecting used syringes and tubes, catching birds for vet checks and so the list goes on and on.  The whole operation is an extremely well oiled machine, it has to be to care for the one hundred or so penguins and other birds needing attention. More penguin handling, then onto the flying species like the large kelp gulls, comorants, ostercatchers and tiny Hartlaub's seagulls.  All have a slightly different method of handling.  Birds tend to go for shiny things like eyes, so safety glasses are an absolute non-negotiable.  At lunch time we met Steve, who is actually a girl.  Steve is an ambassador penguin.  This means that she is one of a handful of tame penguins who go out with the SANCCOB employees to interact with the public and raise awareness for the plight of seabirds in general.  The ambassadors all have names. The rest only have numbers and people working with them are encouraged to have as little interaction with them as possible to preserve their wildness.  The tame penguins all have stories and cannot be rehabilitated because of their tameness. Taming a penguin is to sign it's death warrant away from an environment like SANCCOB.  Apparently a lot of visitors ask whether the penguins dance. . .  thanks to the movie Happy Feet.  Day one over and I slept like a contented log.  Day two began with feeding penguins.  It looks easy when the experienced handlers do it, but it isn't. Penguins are averse to being held so they thrash about with ferociousness, pecking at every opportunity.  I did not think I would ever manage to push a fish down a gullet, but eventually I got the hang of it.  Penguin faces must be wiped to stop fish oil from contaminating their plumage.  Oil on plumage sets the rehabilitation process back about two weeks because it removes the penguin's waterproofing.  We had to identify and catch specific numbers who needed medication for various ailments like Bumblefoot (which is a staphylococcus aureous infection that sets in in pressure sores on the feet of birds in a captive environment) and injuries to flippers and feet. In the ICU I saw birds with amputated and broken feet, seal and caracal bites and injuries from plastics that had become tourniquets around their bodies to name a few.  Certain penguins are nebulised to help with a fungal infection that attacks their respiratory system.  There is nothing that will not be done to save the birds if at all possible.  I met Ebony, a hand-reared rare Bank comorant who loved everyone very vocally.  There was a Rockhopper penguin with black and yellow tasselly tufts, a ganet, a pair of terns, various penguins in a state of arrested moulting (which means they will have to remain in captivity because without their adult coat they will most certainly die in the wild.)  Dylan showed me how to catch, hold and tube feed a kelp gull and a comorant.  Very stressful because of the risk of feed going into the airway. Dylan was so encouraging and this gave me the confidence to get it right.  Great teacher!  I observed Dylan and the vet as they did the health checks on a batch of soon-to-be-released penguins.  He continued his lesson teaching me to tube feed the adult penguins later in the afternoon.  Hmmm.  I did that too, but not without being pecked repeatedly.  Even through two layers of neoprene my arm looks as if it got caught in a wringer!  Adult penguins have super strength and are grumpy sods when things are not going their way.  All good though, they got the nutrients they need to survive and in about three months time, when their blood smears are clear, their weight is good, their crucial feather jackets are healthy and their injuries have healed, they will be released back into nature where they belong.  I applaud the dedication of the volunteers and staff at SANCCOB.  I feel privileged to have been taught by a knowledgeful and passionate young professional and hope that in future I can make a difference, one seabird at a time.

                                        Penguin bites.

                                        Bumblefoot.

                                        Vet check.

                                        Beak cast.

                                        Tube feeding some fish smoothie.

                                                  Below, an example of arrested moulting.