Monday, June 14, 2010:

A reasonably good night’s sleep worked wonders.  This day’s first agenda item was a tour of the Fort Jackson Oiled Bird Care Center, where my old friend Jay Holcomb is in charge.  We were being met at the Center by HSUS President Wayne Pacelle and U.S. Senator David Vitters (R-LA).  Our appointment was at the completely civilized hour of 10:30, but Fort Jackson is about two hours from where we were staying in the French Quarter of New Orleans.   So, we were on the road early … again.

Dr. Lynn Miller, the biochemist/wildlife rehabilitator from Canada who was a member of our team, had gotten permission to go to the Oiled Bird Center two hours early,  to discuss the implications and applications of her research on the effects of oil on wildlife with Jay and his team.  She was planning to meet us at the Center and rejoin the group when we left Fort Jackson.

The rest of us arrived at the center about 45 minutes prior to our 10:30 tour time, thinking that perhaps there would be some place indoors where we could wait and discuss our plans for the day.  As it turned out, there was no place indoors.  There was only a picnic-style canopy outdoors for shade, and a faint hope a breeze.  The fact that it was again about 95 degrees, with the humidity hitting close to that same number, meant that it was HOT, HOT, HOT!!!   We got signed in at the little guard trailer and settled in to wait for the rest of our entourage to arrive … and we waited, and waited, and waited.   As we wilted in the heat, my old friend Dr. Erica Miller, from the Tri-State Bird Rescue Research Center, drove up to the gate.  Erica is in charge of all oiled bird treatment in the four states affected by the spill.  She is one of the most experienced wildlife vets in the world in this kind of situation. Hugs were exchanged and introductions made.  Erica said that while things had been pretty slow getting started, things were very busy now, and the worse-than-normal heat was making it hard to work.  She eventually drove on through the gate to begin her work day, and the rest of us waited some more.

Huddled there with us at the gate to the Center was Senator Vitters’ aide, who informed us that the Senator and his press group were coming by helicopter.  Wayne Pacelle and his share of the press corps were coming in a second helicopter.  Since the whole thing was restricted airspace, they were apparently escorted by an Army chopper … (who knows… maybe to prevent them from being shot down by the Coast Guard!).   Anyway, while we were waiting, I was chatting with the Coast Guard officer who was there to deal with the press … or essentially not deal with the press.  The decision had been made that the media was to be excluded entirely until 1:00 that afternoon, when all media would be admitted at once. 

Knowing that Senator Vitters, who is running for re-election and had a contingent of reporters with him on his tour of affected areas, was unaware that his media scribes were not going to be admitted, we were all primed to watch the face-off that was soon to come.  We did not have to wait long. 

The line of choppers appeared in the distance and headed straight for us— one military bird and two commercial Bell Jet Rangers … with air conditioning!   Out popped Wayne Pacelle and David Vitters and a long line of camera-toting members of the Fourth Estate.  As soon as they got to the gate, the fireworks began!!!  When they admitted Pacelle and Vitters, then closed the gate in the face of the media, all hell broke loose.  Apparently, Senator Vitters’ office had spoken to Jay Holcomb to see if the media coming in would be a problem.  Jay basically said that the animals did not care one way or the other and that there had been media pouring through the place from Day One.  The Coasties had other ideas, though, feeling that since Vitters was clearly campaigning for re-election, they would be obligated to allow his opponents equal access and consideration.  The line was drawn and the battle was on.

The young Coast Guard officer was a nice as he could be, and as politely unyielding as the Rock of Gibraltar.   The Senator’s face got red, his voice got loud, and his temper was only barely restrained as he charged into the guard shack to talk to Incident Unified Command.   In the end, the still smiling Coast Guard officer prevailed and the loudly protesting media was kept at bay.  It was almost worth standing in the heat for an hour just to have watched that whole battle play out.

Finally, we got the members of the team and the two VIPs together and off we went to the warehouse structure that had been converted to a make-shift treatment center. 

Jay met the group at the door and gave us an orientation to the work of the center.  There were about 450 birds in-house at that time, and about 50 or 60 per day were coming in.   Some were released, some admitted for long-term care, and others simply euthanized.  The temperature inside the building was the same as outdoors, since the large commercial air conditioning unit parked outside had ceased to function.  Huge fans at least kept the air inside moving.   While the birds actually love the warm—since the result of oiled feathers is usually hypothermia—the staff in plastic and Tyvek suits and rubber gloves were all sweating profusely as they scurried back and forth, moving animals and supplies.

One of the first things we saw were eight-foot square plywood pens holding scores of brown pelicans, drenched with brown oil.  While called “brown” pelicans, the birds are actually gray in color.  But these guys were all brown, brown, brown.  In addition to the smell of fish that permeated the air, there was the distinct smell of oil … reminiscent of the smell in an auto garage.  The entire warehouse was full of these plywood enclosures, with walkways between the long rows to allow access with food and water.  Along the back wall, in front of the open garage-type doors in the very back of the building, the cleaning stations were set up and there was a blur of activity.

The cleaning of a bird that has been covered in this type of oil is a multi-step process.  Since this oil had “weathered” a great deal prior to reaching the coast, many of the more volatile compounds had evaporated out, leaving the gooey, viscous brown pudding that has been seen in media accounts, though usually in a thin layer that floats on the water.  To soften the tar-like substance so it can be washed off the animals, more oil was actually squirted onto the birds as the first step.  This time, it was a clean, soy-based vegetable oil, though.   This vegetable oil would mix with the petroleum product, making it more responsive to the well-know application of Dawn Dishwashing Liquid that is used to remove the oil.   As one of our team quipped ….  you have to marinate them first.

The washing was a very well-proven process in which the birds get multiple washings, passing from one large tub to another, each a bit cleaner than the last.  Finally, after the last of the oil is purged from eyes, nostrils, ears, openings, feathers and skin, the birds are repeatedly rinsed until the rinse water runs off clean.  The process can take from 30 minutes to an hour.   Then, the birds are placed in clean pens with food and water, where they can rest, recover, dry, and begin to preen themselves, literally passing every feather on their bodies through their beaks to straighten and arrange the tiny barbules.  They will get small amounts of good oil produced by a gland at the base of their tail and apply it to each feather, restoring the waterproofing that is needed to enable the birds to insulate their bodies and permit them to float on the water.  This process can take some time, since all of the natural waterproofing has been washed away, and the little gland can only produce so much oil each day.

Eventually, the clean birds will be moved to outdoor pens with scores of others, to await final disposition.  The decision of what to do with the birds is not an easy one, since so much of the Gulf is affected by the oil.  Obviously, they cannot go back to the habitat from which they were taken, or they would simply be oiled again.  Some have been flown to the east coast of Florida for release, but others are simply being held in captivity until the future condition of the Gulf can be foretold.  For the very, very young pelicans at the center, this means they will be held for a full year, since they need the experience of growing up with their flock in order to learn how to be a pelican, and the flocks have been decimated.  Fortunately, as seabirds go, pelicans are pretty laid back creatures, adapting very quickly to life in captivity where food comes in buckets.

One of our main goals at the Oiled Bird Treatment Center was to find out how things were going and if they were getting all they needed to do their jobs.   What we found is that nothing they needed was denied to them, but getting it was often a bureaucratic nightmare, taking days to get what was sometimes urgently needed.  The other big issue was that reports were flowing in that wildlife was not being rescued when reports were called in.  This confirmed what we had previously been hearing.  This issue was to become a priority for the team.

After about an hour in the sweltering heat, we finally left the shelter, passing through the gaggle of still-grumbling media, and made our way back to the cars.   The next stop was a quick visit to a nearby animal shelter, then a press conference at the Plaquemines Parish Government Center, in the offices of Parish President Billy Nungesser, the darling of CNN and other media covering the spill in Louisiana.

Once we arrived at Nungesser’s office, I was asked to join a small discussion in an upstairs conference room.  In addition to Nungesser, those around the table were Senator Vitters, HSUS President Wayne Pacelle, the president of St. Bernard’s Parish, the Homeland Security Director of Jefferson Parish, and me.  A major concern from the local officials was that oiled wildlife was not being rescued or collected, even when reported.  Further, they expressed great frustration that many people with the skills, experience and equipment to help were being turned away.  Nungesser even reported that he had personally called in the location of a number of oiled pelicans, only to return later in the day to find that no one had responded and the birds were dead.  He also shared the story of a local fisherman who had taken two oiled pelicans he had found near his private dock to the bird rescue center, only to be threatened with arrest should he repeat his act of kindness. Apparently, such accounts were not unusual.  There was a general agreement that much more had to be done to rescue and rehabilitate wildlife affected by the spill, and that the government should either do the job completely and enthusiastically, or make room for private sector organizations and efforts that will.

The last stop of the day was back in New Orleans at the Audubon Zoo’s breeding and conservation facility where oiled sea turtles were being cared for.  There were about 125 rescued turtles in the facility, ranging from palm-sized babies to a 140-pound loggerhead, the cleaning of which was said to have been a real battle between the turtle and the workers, many of whom did not weight as much at the patient.  We learned that mayonnaise is being used to clean the oil from inside the turtles’ mouths and esophagus, since mayo is oil-based and thick enough to stick to swabs and gauze sponges that are used for the job.  We also learned that for certain species, such as the Kemp’s Ridley, the adults do not reach reproductive maturity for decades after they are hatched.  Therefore, we may not know be able to detect or predict what impacts the oil spill today will have on certain wildlife species and population, thirty years or more in the future.  It was a chilling thought.

And, so we came to the end of our agenda on the Gulf Coast.  Even though all of us on the team were exhausted and mentally drained from our experience, we were determined to have at least one good meal in the legendary restaurants of the New Orleans French Quarter.  So, after a quick shower, we finally got a taste of that famous cuisine, and it was delicious.   But, I’m afraid we were all so worn out, we were heading back to the hotel about the time that Bourbon Street was just starting to wake up.   

In spite of the exhaustion, sleep did not come easily.  While the trip had been short on sleep and food, and physically draining in the withering heat, the real work is still in front of us.  Now that we know what is going on … or not going on … the question is, “What are we going to do about it?”