blue_bar_racing_pigeon_biscay
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| - | ====== Racing Pigeon Biscay ====== | + | ====== |
| - | This story occurred a couple of years ago, but the described scenario and underlying problem is as timeless as ever. During my evening shift as marine mammal surveyor on board of a ferry on route to Santander in Spain, I was forced to witness a small group of lost racing pigeons loosing their fight against the strong winds of the Bay of Biscay. I had to watch the drama unfolding, and there was nothing I could do to help. In this respect, spring and autumn surveys are known to be particularly emotionally demanding, as surveyors are regularly forced to helplessly watch the struggle of travelling and migrating birds. This situation is neither unexpected nor unique, but can be emotionally draining. At the very least, it feels very surreal when witnessing tragedies like this one on board of a luxurious ferry, where most people are busy enjoying their lives and holidays. Most of these tragic encounters go unnoticed and are missed even by keen birders and whale and dolphin enthusiasts armed with expensive gear. | + | {{ : |
| The next morning, on the way from my cabin to the bridge, I spotted by chance a sleeping, oiled and soaking wet racing pigeon sitting in one of the port holes. The bird was cold as ice and didn’t wake up when I scooped her up. I wrapped the animal into towels and brought her back into my cabin to warm her up. The pigeon, who I named Biscay, has been found in the middle of the Bay of Biscay, about 100 km offshore. Unlike her comrades, Biscay luckily managed to land on board of the ship during her battle with high winds and rain, being completely exhausted, dehydrated and tired, after many hours of non-stop flying following her release somewhere near Barcelona. | The next morning, on the way from my cabin to the bridge, I spotted by chance a sleeping, oiled and soaking wet racing pigeon sitting in one of the port holes. The bird was cold as ice and didn’t wake up when I scooped her up. I wrapped the animal into towels and brought her back into my cabin to warm her up. The pigeon, who I named Biscay, has been found in the middle of the Bay of Biscay, about 100 km offshore. Unlike her comrades, Biscay luckily managed to land on board of the ship during her battle with high winds and rain, being completely exhausted, dehydrated and tired, after many hours of non-stop flying following her release somewhere near Barcelona. | ||
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