Breakfast with Pelicans
“A wonderful bird is the Pelican.
His beak can hold more than his belly can.
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week!
But I’ll be darned if I know how the hellican?”
― Dixon Lanier Merritt
Back in 2016, a friend from Austria happened to come to Australia for work. Now, the Eastern states do get more than their fair share of attention, so I was tickled pink upon hearing she was coming to Perth – a city often overlooked, but most importantly, my chosen home away from home. Always the smart cookie, she decided to combine business with pleasure, so once her work commitment was fulfilled, we headed out on a road trip.
I have a terrible sense of orientation, so I won’t bore you with travel times and distances – Google maps will prove to be a much more reliable source on this occasion – but our travels saw us end up in Kalbarri National Park.
Any good travel prospectus of the region will tell you of a very special event that takes place every morning at 08:45 am at the aptly named Pelican Feeding Point, opposite the intersection of Grey Street and Woods Street. Luckily for us, the Murchison Caravan Park where we were staying is just a stone’s throw away. Now, all we had to do was get up before 9 the following day while on holiday. (Between us chickens, I had my doubts I would rise at such an ungodly hour, but life is full of surprises…)
The next morning, my lovely traveling companion did an unspeakable thing – she snuck out of our camper at what I would call the break of dawn (around 7:30) and went for a jog. When she came back, she had a spring in her step and a tale to tell – she had encountered a group of kangaroos. It is physically impossible to come face-to-face with these furry beauties and not tell anyone about it straight away, because what is the point of going on vacation if you don’t allow yourself to be in awe of the wonderful things you encounter? All I can say is that if every sporting activity came with such a reward, I too might be tempted to do some form of physical activity early in the morning. Then again, one must not give in to all temptations, so on this occasion, we heated up the mocha pot and filled up our keep cups.
With plenty of time to spare, we moseyed over to the Kalbarri Foreshore, where a group of spectators had already assembled. Right on time, a local volunteer – equipped with a bucket full of tasty fish (so juicy sweeeet) – came along and the group of pelicans that had been spread out across the stretch of sand came waddling up at remarkable speed.
What strikes me most about pelicans – apart from the fact that their eating habits come with a delightful limerick – is their size. They are considered Australia’s largest flying bird and boast a wingspan of up to 3 meters, so their appearance is rather impressive. Whereas most birds are known by one name as a collective – a flamboyance of flamingos, a murder of crows, a mischief of magpies – a group of white pelicans can be called a pod, pouch, squadron, or scoop. Maybe because they can scoop up a lot of food in those elastic throat pouches.
We have an abundance of native birds in Austria, too. But in my hometown, you are most likely to see sparrows, bluetits, blackbirds, robins, occasionally a kingfisher, and on even rarer occasions a (clearly not Austrian) peacock or two. Of course, there are also birds of prey, but they rarely sit down next to you so you can have a good ol’ perv at their plumage or tootsies.
But here at Pelican Feeding Point, you do get a chance to see the birbs up close. (And no, birb is not a typo – a birb is to a bird lover what a doggo is to a lover of canines.) Growing up, my family had a pet lorikeet who grew to the wise old age of 19, so I was eager to see what his distant cousins are like. Not sure why, but people seem to forget that birds have personalities, too. Some are shy, some are cheeky, some are happy to wait their turn when being fed and others try to strategically side-step the feeder and head straight for the fish bucket.
The custom of feeding the birds at this particular location dates back to 1975 when a man named Cliff Ross first started interacting with the resident wildfowl. Since then, different volunteers have stepped into his gumboots and have kept the tradition going. They all bring their personal stories to share with the onlookers, so no two feeds are the same. The interactions between birds and humans is very species-appropriate. If they feel hungry, the birds can waddle up and say hi. Nobody tries to round them up to please the audience, the volunteers are happy to throw fish to pelicans lingering a few feet away from spectators and nobody tries to lure them outside of their comfort zone. I almost forgot to sip my coffee with all the shenanigans going on around me.
Sadly, wherever humans are, destruction is left behind. Our volunteer pointed out some birds that had been injured by fishing hooks, after being entangled in fishing lines, or by other debris left behind on the shores. Because we, the people, just aren’t capable of cleaning up our own bloody mess. In a practical sense, the daily feed is also a good opportunity to see if one of the birds is hurt and by keeping a closer look at the flock, the volunteers can alert professional help for wildlife in need.
But here’s the thing: Generally speaking, birds want to be left alone. So, if you are hoping for that close-up selfie with a pelican, that’s not their thing. But, if the local pelicans find themselves hurt, they might just walk up to people and trust we will help. An injured beak or throat pouch can easily be a death sentence in the wild, but it’s also something a vet can fix. I’m an old cynic but every now and then a little faith in humanity is restored.
Take home messages: Getting up early is possible even when on holiday. Sometimes life throws you a twofer – you expect pelicans but get a bunch – no, make that mob – of kangaroos thrown in. People who volunteer to take care of wildlife are the best and I’ll see you all at the next adventure.
https://www.australiascoralcoast.com/destination/kalbarri/pelican-feeding