Hidden world of Narragansett Bay on the rebound

            When imagining the places on Earth with the highest diversity of species, most people think about the Amazonian rainforests or the jungles of Southeast Asia or the plains of Africa. Seldom are marine habitats even considered. And when they are, it’s coral reefs that get most of the attention.

            But biologist Steve Hale said that two-thirds of all of the animals on the planet live on or in seafloor sediments or what scientists call the benthic environment. And when only calculating the marine species, about 98 percent live in the sediments.

            A research ecologist with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency in Narragansett for the last 20 years, Hale recently finished compiling a master list of all the species ever recorded in the sediments of Narragansett Bay. He discussed the project in a lecture at the Rhode Island Natural History Survey on September 28.

The list includes 1,056 species, and he believes there may be another 200 to 300 still to

be found. Most live in the top 10 centimeters of the sediments. The most abundant creatures recorded are varieties of polychaete worms, mollusks and arthropods.

“But rare species make up most of the biodiversity,” Hale said. “Included are 395 singletons – species found only once – and 224 doubletons. Another 279 were captured prior to 1950 and have not been seen again” due to range shifts, pollution, the effects of invasive species and other factors.

            Based on his analysis, Hale said that the biodiversity of benthic organisms in Narragansett Bay declined from the 1880s to the 1980s due to pollution produced during the Industrial Revolution, raw sewage, heavy metals and other toxins released into the bay. The filling in of salt marshes, the disappearance of eelgrass beds, and other habitat destruction also caused a decline in benthic diversity.

            But as the bay was cleaned up in the later years of the 20^th century, benthic biodiversity experienced a partial recovery, though it has not yet achieved pre-industrial levels and may never do so.

            To compile his master species list for Narragansett Bay, Hale scoured every bit of historical data he could find. Most came from online databases maintained by the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, the Harvard Museum of Comparative Zoology, and the Yale Peabody Museum of Natural History. 

But he also uncovered reports of species collected by professional and amateur naturalists as far back as 1834, when the chief engineer for the construction of Newport’s Fort Adams, Joseph Totten, took samples from the bottom of Narragansett Bay and published a report of his findings.

In the succeeding decades, notable scientists visited the area and contributed data, including Alexander Agassiz, who established the Newport Marine Zoological Laboratory at Castle Hill in 1873 and was dubbed the first oceanographer of Narragansett Bay, and Addison Verrill from Yale University, the first to use a steamship to collect benthic samples in the bay.

The 99 different studies that Hale compiled represents surveys of 200 different sites around the bay.

“Only about 600 square meters of sediment has been sampled,” Hale said, noting that it represents about 0.000002 percent of the bay’s area. “But we still think about 80 percent of all the species have been found.”

Benthic creatures perform vital ecosystem services, according to Hale. They filter the water, sequester carbon, process waste, recycle nutrients, provide food for birds and commercial and recreational fisheries, and provide nursery habitat for other marine organisms.

Although Narragansett Bay seafloor communities have rebounded as the bay has become cleaner, Hale said they must still deal with numerous unhealthy stressors, from storm water run-off and toxins in the sediments to invasive species and low dissolved oxygen levels.

“When we have our seasonal hypoxia [low oxygen] events in the upper bay, our rare species get hammered,” said Hale. “They’re very sensitive to disturbances and susceptible to local extinctions.”

Increasing water temperatures from climate change will likely lead to changes in the range of some species, which will alter the composition of the species in the bay.

Will the benthic communities of Narragansett Bay continue their recovery? Hale said it’s hard to say.

“We’ve made a lot of progress by putting a lot of money into improving our sewage treatment plants,” he said, “but non-point sources of pollution are still a problem. Mix that with invasive species and warming waters, and it’s hard to say how things are going to go. I don’t have a good answer to that, but I’m hopefully optimistic.

This article first appeared in EcoRI.org on October 4, 2017.

New technology revealing details of bat migration

            The Pettersson D500X ultrasound recorder looks a bit like an old-fashioned transistor radio with square buttons, a modest display screen, and a built-in microphone. Yet despite its unimaginative appearance, the device can detect the echolocation sounds made by bats and, with the help of software that identifies the bat species involved, is helping scientists reveal new information about the movements and migration behavior of local bat populations.

            Biologists at the Rhode Island Department of Environmental Management and the University of Rhode Island have deployed the bat detectors throughout the state this year in a variety of ways. DEM wildlife biologist Charles Brown, for instance, mounts one on the roof of his truck as he periodically drives five routes around the state to look for trends in bat numbers and to compare his findings with those driving similar routes in other states. He also places the

Silver-haired bat (The Nature Conservancy)

devices in various state wildlife management areas to scout for locations to trap bats for more detailed studies.

            The most revealing use of the detectors, however, has been as a way of monitoring bat migration through the state.

            “Not a lot is known about bat migration, so we’re just trying to figure it out for various reasons,” said Brown. “There’s a great interest in wind turbine development – turbines kill hundreds of thousands of bats every year – so we want to know when they migrate and where.”

            Brown selected several locations along the Rhode Island coast to place the detectors for long-term monitoring of bat movements. Every week since early August, he has downloaded the data from the detectors to learn what he can about the seasonal movement of bats.

            “Much like birds, they migrate at the same times and during the same general weather patterns,” Brown said. “They head south until they hit the coast and then they follow the coastline. There are certain locations where you’d expect them to pile up and be concentrated, like Point Judith, Sakonnet Point, Beavertail, Brenton Point.”

            While he admits he didn’t know what to expect with the data he was collecting, he was somewhat surprised to learn that bat migration appears to begin much earlier than he anticipated.

            “We’re seeing pulses of activity beginning in August, and I’m not sure that’s well known,” Brown said. “But they’re opportunistic animals, so when they get the right weather conditions, they probably just figure that this is a good time to go.”

            Bat migration is believed to continue through October and early November.

            The only difficulty with the bat detectors is that it’s impossible to know how many bats are being detected.

            “It might detect a thousand calls in one night, but we don’t know if it’s a thousand bats flying by or one bat that flew by a thousand times,” he said. “There’s no way to differentiate it.”

            Most of the bats Brown has detected are red, hoary and silver-haired bats – collectively called tree bats – all of which migrate south each fall. He also occasionally detects small numbers of little brown bats that migrate north to hibernate in caves and mines in New Hampshire and Vermont. Little browns have declined dramatically in the last decade due to the effects of white-nose syndrome, a fungal disease that has killed millions of hibernating bats throughout the Northeast. Big brown bats, many of which spend the winter hibernating in Rhode Island, are also detected.

            URI Professor Peter August has conducted similar monitoring of bat migration at Napatree Point in Westerly using the same kind of detector, and his results mirror Brown’s.

“While in mid-summer I’d have a couple hundred bats passing by in a week, starting in August I’ve been getting a couple thousand in a week. The activity has really peaked.”

            He plans to continue to monitor for bat activity at Napatree until he detects no bats at all.

            “Nothing brings great clouds of bats to Napatree in the summer, which is what I expected,” said August, who earned his doctorate studying bats in South America. “It’s not an active summertime habitat, but it changes this time of year. We have lots of bats moving around now. Our migratory bats are headed south, and our hibernating bats are moving around the area looking for places to hibernate.

            By combining data from the detectors with anecdotal information from other sources – like surfers who report large movements of bats at sunrise and wind turbine owners who report dead bats at the base of the structures – Brown and August are piecing together the story of bat migration in Rhode Island.

            “With all this information, we’re finally getting a better sense of what’s going on here,” Brown said. “The information we’re getting will give us a better sense of how big a problem wind towers will be for our bats. As more and more wind turbines pop up on the landscape, it’s probably going to be a problem. It’s already a problem. And then we’ll have to question whether the mortality is sustainable.” 

This article first appeared on EcoRI.org on September 27, 2017.

Wildlife weathering the storm

It may not be the smartest activity, but hurricane season provides a unique opportunity to make exciting wildlife observations. Just as surfers tend to head for the beach during major storms – because that’s when the increasing waves offer an especially fun and challenging ride – those who enjoy watching birds often flock to the coast during and after hurricanes to look for rare species blown into the region on the powerful winds.

I can’t imagine what it’s like for a gull or other coastal bird to get pulled into the vortex of a hurricane near Cuba or Haiti and be unable to get out until they had traveled more than a

thousand miles. But it happens every year. It must be a traumatic experience, not to mention exhausting.

But there are few opportunities more enticing to a birder than to stand at a prominent coastal site and scan the horizon for a mega-rarity during a hurricane. It really gets the juices flowing.

Not that I’ve ever actually done it, however.

I worked for the electric company for 13 of my most obsessive birdwatching years, so when all my friends were headed to Point Judith or Beavertail or Brenton Point to watch for birds, I had to go to work. Which means that I missed out on seeing innumerable tropical birds make landfall along the Rhode Island coastline.

Bridled terns from Florida, brown boobies from the West Indies, brown pelicans from the Carolinas, and magnificent frigatebirds from the Caribbean have all turned up on southern New England beaches during especially powerful storms, and I missed them all. While I was working without sleep for days at a time as the electricity was being restored, my birding friends were making the avian observations of a lifetime.

Of course, coastal birds aren’t the only wildlife affected by hurricanes. Our local resident species can face devastation, too.  Fish, crabs and other marine creatures, for instance, can be thrown onto shore by waves and storm surge and become stranded. Beach plants are often ripped from the dunes by the winds or covered in sand. Animals that raise their young in trees, like squirrels, bats and raccoons, can have their homes uprooted and destroyed. Ground-dwelling creatures like opossums, skunks and chipmunks often drown in floodwaters.

Those that survive may find it difficult to find food because local berries have been torn from their bushes, insects have been smashed or drowned, and seeds have become moldy and unfit for eating. As difficult as it is for humans to weather a severe storm, our native wildlife has it even harder.

As a result, it’s a busy time for local wildlife rehabilitators, who are committed to rescuing injured or abandoned animals. One rehabilitator told me that it’s not uncommon for Rhode Islanders to deliver 100 baby squirrels to raise in the days after a hurricane because their nest trees have been knocked down.

It may take a while before normal wildlife activity resumes after a hurricane. Some species may have moved far inland to avoid the storm; others may seek new habitat if their former territory is damaged; and still others remain hunkered down for days or weeks as they recover from the stress of the storm.

In other words, they behave like most of the rest of us – happy that it’s over and thankful to have survived.

This article first appeared in The Independent on September 21, 2017.

Wildlife refuges are nature's defense against climate change

            The late winter and early spring of 2010 was not a time for enjoying the outdoors in the Ocean State. In what may have been the most significant flooding Rhode Island has experienced in its recorded history, more than 20 inches of rain fell during a 38-day period, culminating in a storm that dropped eight inches on the state from March 29 to April 1. The effects were devastating, especially along the Pawtuxet River in Warwick and West Warwick, which rose to more than 11 feet above flood level. Dams and bridges were washed out, homes were destroyed, and businesses and infrastructure were severely damaged.

            “The malls in Warwick were flooded because all the water in the Pawtuxet River is forced through a narrow channel between the malls where there are no wetlands, and it got over the

bank and covered the parking lots,” recalled Scott Ruhren, Audubon’s senior director of conservation. “It was a mess.”

            Audubon’s refuges weren’t spared. The trails at the Fisherville Brook Wildlife Refuge in Exeter were completely impassable – water was waist deep in places – as the brook overflowed its banks. The house at the Marion Eppley Wildlife Refuge in West Kingston became an island for several days as the surrounding flood plain swelled. And the 11-acre Carr Pond at the Maxwell Mays Wildlife Refuge in Coventry multiplied in size.

            But none of the refuges were irreparably harmed. In fact, they played a crucial role in helping to mitigate even greater damage that could have occurred in nearby areas. It’s a role they will likely play more and more often as the changing climate delivers increasingly severe storms, rising sea levels and damaging storm surge.

            “Conservation lands are resilient,” Ruhren said. “Whether they’re in a river floodplain or a coastal area, natural lands do what they’re supposed to do when the water rises – they absorb the water and release it slowly.”

            According to Ruhren, the most valuable elements of any conserved property during flooding are wetlands, which he describes as “nature’s kidneys. In addition to absorbing and holding large quantities of water,” he said, “they also filter out any contaminants from the water.”

            The difference is clearly visible. Water that surges downstream after a storm often looks like chocolate milk, he said. This is especially true where upstream areas are heavily developed with pavement and other structures that contribute to erosion and roadway run-off.

            But when that water has a chance to filter through wetlands and other natural areas, it’s much cleaner when it reaches the bay.

            “Sure, the trails might get flooded, but that’s just a short-term inconvenience,” Ruhren said. “But the water recedes as it filters down into the ground or continues downstream, and the forests are no worse off because of it. You might have a flooded forest for a short time, but they rebound quickly, and the plants and animals are adapted to it.”

            The danger comes when wetlands are filled, when impermeable surfaces like pavement prevent water from seeping into the soil, and when increasing development is permitted along waterways.

            “It’s like we’re filling a bathtub,” said Audubon’s Executive Director Lawrence Taft. “The more you fill in these places, the less water it can hold. By having areas where you just don’t develop – by backing off development from wetlands, rivers and marshes – then when the waters creep up, there is a place for it to go.”

            Taft and Ruhren agree that floodplains should be protected from extensive development so they can serve to mitigate damage when the waters inevitably rise again. Many local communities are finally getting the message.

            The Rhode Island Coastal Resources Management Council’s interactive mapping system, Storm Tools, is helping public officials visualize flood-prone areas and places that will likely be under water due to sea level rise in the coming decades. Coupled with a growing awareness of the important role conservation lands play in flood mitigation, some communities are now recognizing that the protection of open space should be a key component of their comprehensive planning.

            Taft is working with the state to develop new rules that factor in climate mitigation values when communities seek grants for open space and recreation lands in the future.

            “We really ought to start prioritizing those places that can be safely flooded in our open space decision making,” he said. “Properties would be ranked higher if they’re near a river or in a flood zone because of the climate mitigation services they provide.”

            But flood mitigation isn’t the only environmental benefit that conservation lands provide in this era of climate change. Established ecosystems like forests and salt marshes sequester carbon from the atmosphere while producing oxygen, and they provide critical habitat for birds and other wildlife whose habitat is rapidly changing.

            “The more conservation land you have, the more places there will be for wildlife to shift their ranges to when they need to,” said Ruhren. “And bigger is better, especially when the protected lands are connected.”

            He also emphasized the important role that forests play in keeping streams and rivers cool.

            “A lot of aquatic species are vulnerable to overheating, like native brook trout and freshwater mussels,” Ruhren said. “A good way to kill brook trout is to cut down the trees along the stream. We don’t think of heat as a pollutant or a stressor, but it is.”

            “We often talk about how our forests are the lungs of Rhode Island because they clean the air and produce oxygen and absorb carbon and keep us cool,” added Taft. “Putting aside land for conservation helps us with resiliency and adaptation and mitigation of some of the effects of climate change. Will the forests still change? Yes. Will the species change? Yes. But at least those open areas are here to function for air quality, flood protection, habitat and cooling.”

            

This article first appeared in the September 2017 issue of Audubon Report, the newsletter of the Audubon Society of Rhode Island.

Tough year for piping plover chicks at Rhode Island beaches

            Rhode Island’s population of piping plovers – the rare, sand-colored shorebird that breeds primarily on ocean-facing beaches – has grown significantly since it hit an all-time low of fewer than 20 pairs in the early 1980s. But 2017 was a bad year for the birds. The spring rains and a continuing battle with predators caused a decline in the number of chicks the plovers produced.

            According to Jennifer White, the biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service who monitors the plover population, the statewide breeding population is about 100 pairs, though

the population fluctuates each year as some birds move back and forth to beaches in Massachusetts and Connecticut, depending on changing beach conditions.

            On South County beaches, where most of the birds’ breed, White counted 73 pairs of piping plovers this summer, mostly at Trustom Pond National Wildlife Refuge in South Kingstown, Quonochontaug Beach in Charlestown, and East Beach in Westerly. Another 23 pairs nested in Little Compton at Goosewing Beach Preserve, Briggs Beach and Fogland Marsh Preserve. In addition, one pair nested at Third Beach in Middletown.

            White said that each nest, on average, produced just .68 chicks, well below the 1.25 needed to maintain a stable population and far below the 1.62 chicks produced last year. The one bright spot was at Ninigret Conservation Area, where seven pairs of plovers produced an average of 2.29 chicks per nest.

            “Productivity this year was very very low, we think because of a lot of predators, both avian and mammalian,” she said, noting that crows, gulls, foxes and coyotes are the primary predators on plover eggs and chicks. “At some sites, we saw canine footprints that went from nest to nest.”

            The chilly, wet spring also caused many nests to fail.

            “We had a lot of nest failures right after the chicks hatched because of the rain,” White said. “The chicks can forage as soon as they hatch, but they can’t thermoregulate, so they still rely on their parents to keep them warm and dry. We had a lot of young chicks under five days old when we had rain all day, and we lost those broods.”

            Staff and volunteers from The Nature Conservancy monitor the piping plovers on Little Compton beaches. Tim Mooney, the Conservancy’s director of communication, said those beaches faced similar declines in chick productivity.

            “I’m struck by how many things really have to go right for the plovers to fledge chicks,” he said. “The habitat conditions have to be right, the tides, storms, predators. It really demonstrates how difficult it can be to bring a species back to healthy self-sustaining numbers.”

            Mooney and White also noted that the abundant human beach-goers can also be a factor in the success or failure of piping plover nests, though the beaches that attract the most human visitors seldom have any plovers attempting to nest.

            “It’s a perennial issue,” Mooney said. “Every day there is potential for user conflict, and we do our best to work with the visitors and the community to manage that threat.”

            The Nature Conservancy and the Fish and Wildlife Service conduct daily patrols of the beaches where the plovers nest, rope off nesting areas, and place mesh “exclosures” around nests to keep predators at bay while allowing the birds free access to and from their nest. They also keep daily records of how many plovers are nesting at each beach, how many eggs are laid, and how many chicks survive to fledge.

            “This was a rough year, but we know our management activities helped the birds,” White said. “But we still have a lot of work to do to make sure people follow beach guidelines and are aware of the birds, keep their dogs leashed, and carry out their food, which attracts predators to the beach.”

                Mooney said that an important part of The Nature Conservancy’s monitoring efforts is pointing out the plovers to beach visitors so they can develop an appreciation for the birds.

            “Once you’ve looked through a scope and seen a chick run across the beach, you can’t help but want to do something to help them,” he said. “That’s the job of our education folks – getting more eyes behind that scope.”

            Piping plovers are categorized as threatened on the federal Endangered Species List. They breed on Atlantic coastal beaches from Newfoundland to North Carolina. (A separate population breeds in the Great Lakes region.) To be removed from the list, they must achieve a chick productivity rate of 1.5 per pair for five consecutive years and maintain a breeding population of 2,000 pairs.

            “We’re committed to plover restoration in Rhode Island, but we’re just one spot in the range of these birds,” Mooney said. “The whole North Atlantic population would have to achieve that level of chick productivity to be delisted, so while individual sites may reach that target here and there, I don’t think we’re close to seeing the whole region reach it.”

               

This article first appeared on EcoRI.org on September 6, 2017.

Wet spring blamed for Rhode Island butterfly decline

            Monarch butterflies have continued their resurgence in Rhode Island this year after a global decline in 2013, but overall populations of butterflies in the state appear to be declining slightly.

            “The biggest factor this year was probably the long, wet spring we had,” said Marty Wencek, a biologist for the Rhode Island Department of Environmental Management and an avid butterfly observer for 55 years. “The wet weather can suppress the population when you have a lot of butterflies wintering as pupa and a lot of small caterpillars. Just like the gypsy moths got whacked by the wet weather, it can also affect other species.”

            As if to emphasize the point, the first day of a two-day, statewide butterfly survey sponsored by the Audubon Society of Rhode Island was nearly rained out this year, resulting in fewer surveyors spending fewer hours searching for and counting fewer butterflies.

            According to Jon Scoones, who coordinated the survey, 1,454 butterflies of 52 species were identified – a similar number of species but half of the individual totals of past years. And

yet there were still several notable highlights. Numbers of the tiny Dun skipper, for instance, doubled compared to last year, while the even tinier sachem went from one in 2016 to 105 this year, almost all in Newport County.

            Monarchs, which Scoones said “everyone uses as a litmus test,” increased from 29 to 134, mostly in the West Bay. Butterfly enthusiasts around the state have posted numerous photos on social media of monarch eggs, caterpillars and adults in recent weeks, many with messages claiming to feel a sense of relief that the butterflies appear to have rebounded.

            On the other hand, survey results found the very common cabbage white to have declined from 638 to 243 and the popular pearl crescent dropped from 374 individuals to 78.

            Of particular note, Scoones said, is that the number of variegated fritillaries, a southern species found fairly rarely in the state, increased this year, especially in the Big River area.

            “I was heartened to see that the variegated fritillaries are coming up here, but I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad,” he said. “It’s nice to know that we’re having more butterflies in our area, but should it even be up here? I’m not sure. It might be here because of climate change.”

            That may be the reason for increased sightings of other southern species as well, including Zabulon skipper and red-banded hairstreak.

            “They don’t really belong here, but everything from the south is trending in our direction,” said Wencek. “Why? Because it’s warmer.”

            Some southern species are not accustomed to the cold of southern New England, however, and they become scarce following severe winters, like occurred in 2013. But others appear able to survive.

            “A lot of factors affect butterflies,” Wencek said. “I always point to the wet spring when numbers are down, but I know there’s more to it than that, like habitat loss and pesticide use. Those are major factors, too.”

            One thing Wencek and Scoones said that almost anyone can do to boost butterfly populations is to plant native flowers from which the adult insects can sip nectar, and plant the specific host plant that each species requires during its caterpillar stage.

            “It definitely works,” Wencek said. “I planted hops, and it brought in question marks. I put in pipevine and we got a pipevine swallowtail laying eggs. You want black swallowtail? Plant parsley.

            “These bugs are dependent on the host plant, so if climate change hinders that plant’s ability to thrive, it will hinder the ability of that butterfly to survive,” he added.

            While butterfly numbers appear to fluctuate widely from year to year, Wencek has observed a slight decline in overall numbers in recent years. It is especially noticeable with the very common species, which he said are still common but he is noticing fewer of them.

            Looking to the future, he said that Rhode Islanders should expect to see more and more butterfly species from the South making the Ocean State their summer home.

            “Every year starting about now, we start getting exotic southern butterflies that fly  north until they die, which is an interesting phenomenon,” he said. “We’ll start seeing more of those in the future. Some years you might not see a ton of them, but expect it to be a more common occurrence.”

This article first appeared on EcoRI.org on August 24, 2017.

A bird in the hand

When Newport police officer Jack Billings was a young boy in Utah, he watched as a great horned owl landed on a utility pole near where his father was barbecuing. When Billings put on a leather glove and held a piece of meat out to the owl, the bird flew to his glove. That bird had

Falconer Jack Billings (photo by Mike Salerno)

escaped from a local falconer, and that moment was the beginning of Billings’ passion for falconry. Today the Exeter resident, 39, is one of just two master falconers in Rhode Island. Every year he captures and trains a wild hawk to hunt for squirrels and rabbits and return to his hand without losing its wildness. “As comfortable as you get with them,” he said, “they’re always wild animals, and it’s up to you to treat them with respect and treat them as wild animals.”

Q: How do you describe what falconry is all about?

A: Falconry is just a really intense form of bird watching. It is the opportunity to observe life at its most primal and basic level – the relationship between predator and prey. The bird works with you in the pursuit of quarry, but the majority of the workload falls on the bird. It gives you the opportunity to see what goes on around us every day, but at a more personal and intimate level.

Q: How does one become a falconer?

A: The regulations in Rhode Island are pretty strict, and that is very much intentional because the amount of work and care and understanding required to successfully fly and maintain these birds at an optimal level is amazing. There is a two-year apprenticeship that’s required under a general or master class falconer. Prior to the apprenticeship, you’re required to take a state examination that covers everything from housing, feeding, and equipment, all the way up through general raptor biomedicine. After you pass the test, there is also a facilities inspection required. The bird has to have access to an outdoor facility called a mews, which is like a custom aviary, so the inspection ensures that your mews meets the requirements of the state regulations.

Q: Tell us about the birds you hunt with.

A: I’m a big fan of our native eastern red-tailed hawks. They are very good at catching all kinds of quarry. Squirrels and rabbits make for great sport for them. Every year I trap and train a new bird, and each bird has a very different personality.

Q: How do you trap them?

A: There are many ways to do it. My preferred way is with a bal-chatri, a domed cage usually made out of some hard wire mesh. You tie monofilament fishing line nooses on top of it, and you place a bait animal – a mouse, a starling – inside the bait cage. Once you identify an immature hawk you want, you deploy the trap. The hope is that the bird sees the bait animal, comes down to grab it, and in the process of landing on the cage gets tangled in the nooses, at which point you extricate the bird and begin your training.

Q: If you’re trapping a new bird every year, what do you do with your previous bird?

A: Because they’re always wild, the old bird gets released right back into the wild. I’ve seen birds that I’ve released in the same areas years later.

Q: What’s involved in training them?

A: The basic premise of training a falconry bird is time equals influence. The more time you spend with them, showing them that you’re not going to hurt them, they start to come around and you start to build a trust. As soon as they’re brought home, I like to go down into a quiet darkened room with no stimulus, and I put the bird on the glove with leather anklets and jesses on, and I just try to get it to sit on the glove and gain that trust. The aim is to get the hawk to eat off the glove. When that happens, it’s almost like a switch has gone off. Everything changes. The bird has identified you as not being so much of a threat. From that point on, the training proceeds pretty rapidly. The next day, maybe you put it on the back of a chair, then hold the garnished glove six inches away, and all you’re asking her to do is step forward and she can eat. A bird that will step will hop; a bird that will hop will fly five feet; a bird that will fly five feet will fly 20 yards. Once you gain field control while the bird is tethered and will react to your cue and reward, then it’s time to unclip the bird and begin hunting.

Q: What’s it like to take a hawk hunting?

A: Clearly, these animals know what they’re doing. It’s ingrained in their being. It’s just up to you to introduce them into a game-rich environment, and through walking around and flushing squirrels or rabbits for them, present them with the opportunity to pursue game. You can learn a lot by watching the bird. They’ll tell you what’s going on in the woodlot or the briar patch. The most successful falconers I know are able to interpret what that bird is doing and react accordingly. A bird that’s looking intently at one spot and starts bobbing its head left and right has spotted something they’re interested in catching, and they’re triangulating and determining exactly how far away that prey item is and how much energy it’s going to take to get there. So by interpreting that behavior correctly, you can move into position and offer a flush. And once the animal flushes, the hawk engages.

Q: What do you enjoy most about falconry?

A: It’s simply being witness to that predator-prey relationship, the very basic premise of life, and being able to observe nature on a level that most people only read about in books. These birds are very intelligent, and they ask a lot of you. Falconers, at best, are the dog to these animals; we’re the flushing utensil. They are in control of the show, and you’re there to provide a little assistance.

Q: Sounds like falconry is a huge commitment.

A: It is a huge commitment. My first divorce was a result of falconry. It’s not like having a dog that you can bring to the kennel when you’re on vacation. A falcon isn’t something you can just walk away from.

Q: What advice would you give to someone interested in becoming a falconer?

A: Far too often you see people who are interested in an activity, but when they become engaged in the activity, they form that activity around their life. This doesn’t work like that. Raptors are hunting machines, that’s what they were built to do, that’s what they want to do, and anything short of that you’re doing a disservice to the animal. So if you’re thinking about falconry, think about whether you can modify your life around that bird, not the other way around. It will never work the other way.

This article first appeared in the Newport Mercury on August 23, 2017.