Catch a Vulture by the Toe

Sitting in Nairobi as I prepare for my flight back to the US, I can hardly believe it has been three months. The Mara and its vultures have once again kept me busy with too much to see and do. I already miss the rolling hills, expansive plains, and forested rivers that have surrounded me throughout the stay. I miss the cries of the African white-backed vultures, the gentle chirp of the massive Lappet-faced vultures, and the giggles of the hyenas that have come to steal the vultures’ find.
The next few months I will watch the birds from afar, following their movements using the GSM-GPS transmitters that have been attached and reliving their interactions through my notes, photos, and videos taken during the carcass observations. I hope to make some sense out of all that I have seen and out of what is now nearly a full year of movement data from the first 14 birds. At the end we should have a more complete understanding of the impacts that the human-induced landscape changes are having on these important scavenger species, not just in and around Masai Mara National Reserve but throughout the species wide ranges which take them from the open plains of Serengeti and the misty crater of Ngorogoro to arid Laikipia whistling thorn acacia fields and flowing rivers of Masai Mara.
I plan to return in July to see the vultures at their peak as the wildbeest migration floods the Mara ecosystem. It will be a different world. It should be exciting to see the skies teaming with the black vulture silhouettes and the ground writhing with fighting scavengers.

In any case, I am now home. Thanks for following my blog and hope to see all of you soon! I will be returning to the field in mid July so until then I probably won’t be posting too many new blogs. Thanks for following along with my adventures.

I have always felt that education and community involvement are essential for effective conservation. Today I got to do both as we held the second Vulture Workshop in Masai Mara National Reserve. The turnout was amazing – teachers from each of the local schools, leaders for the various conservancies that have been created to try and stave off habitat destruction around the reserve, Kenya Wildlife Service representatives, community outreach workers, researchers from Michigan State University’s Mara Hyena Project, guides from some of the larger lodges, game wardens from Mara Triangle Conservancy and Narok County Council, community liasons and chiefs from the two neighboring community areas that I have been working in, researchers from the National Museum of Kenya and photographers to record the entire event. Over 65 attendees in total!
I felt a swell of pride as we all sat and listened to lectures about the animals I had been watching so intently for the last few months: Vultures. Everyone seemed absorbed in the stories of why we need vultures, why we are losing them, and what we need to do to save them.
It was fascinating to see the history of The Vulture Research Project unfold and I felt honored to be its newest contributor. It all started with Paul Kirui, a one-of-a-kind tour guide, who took an interest in the vultures nearly fifteen years ago and started recording numbers at different carcasses. His work laid the foundation for what would come as he invited Munir Virani and Simon Thomsett from The Peregerine Fund, to join him in the Mara. Paul had been fascinated by the fluctuations in vulture numbers that occur in the Mara throughout the year and his keen initial observations are now the basis for a scientific publication and have helped lay the path for much of the work that I am conducting. Then came the invaluable contribution of Munir and Simon who’s transects have established the level of vulture declines occurring in and around Masai Mara National Reserve. Their work really confirms that there is a problem and we have to do something about it.
When it was finally my turn to present the results from the movement and behavior study, I felt my usual public speaking fear melt away as my excitement at this unique opportunity to give a more complete explanation of what I had been doing and all that I had learned to this important group of stakeholders. I began by briefly reminding everyone how important vultures are for disease control and waste removal and emphasized once more (as had been done throughout the workshop) of how devastating the poisoning of carcasses had been on vultures. Then I presented my findings. The reaction was amazing – one of excitement, curiosity, and a sort of awe – both at all I had done in this last two years and at the amazing behavior of vultures. How can you not be impressed by a bird that can travel over 250 km in a day at speeds over 100 km/hr, while using a home range of over 100,000 km2? A species that can find a carcass to quickly that they seem to just pour from the sky when the first bird lands?
Afterward, there were so many questions and many people stopped to chat with me after the talk was over. Two years into my PhD and for the first time I felt like a real scientist – like a real conservationist. I also felt the more familiar joy of being an educator and was so pleased to have shared this information with the local community.
The afternoon was spent debating the best ways forward as we broke into three groups to discuss avenues for improvement in research, education, and policy that might aid in vulture conservation. People really put their heads together and it was nice to see all the lively discussion unfold.
When it was finally over I felt drained but pleased. What better way to end three months in the field, then to share a little bit of what I had discovered (even if the results really were just the head of the hippo).

Ann, the African white-backed vulture preparing for her release

So with only a Tawny eagle to show for our efforts after three long days of trapping, we still had work to do. We had a test unit that needed to get deployed, so I could decide which units we would be using during our July trapping session. We really needed one more bird.

We had found the ultimate trapping spot – a quite cove surrounded by a small river with trees protecting it, making it difficult for mammalian scavenger to tell if a vulture was landing on a nest or on the ground. We had tried it a few times before and despite a great turn out of vultures had been unable to snag one. Today we would give it one last go before giving up and moving somewhere else.

At 8 o’clock we dropped the meat and set up the nooses. Then we waited. The first birds to arrive were more Tawny eagles. They stepped carefully around the nooses, aware they were there but unconcerned. Their feet are tiny compared to a vultures, so the nooses generally shouldn’t catch them, but in trapping there are no guarantees. My heart was racing as three African white-backed vultures came zooming onto the meat. They dropped from the sky with such speed that you could hear their wings against the wind, like tiny jet airplanes. The odds were slowly shifting in our favor. More African white-backed vultures landed and slowly the squabbling started. As birds jumped around I could see the black loops we had set out slip over and off their feet. We just needed one to stick. Then with an angry screech as one vulture attacked another, they all jumped off the meat. Everyone moved a few feet away except for one bird. He seemed confused, hadn’t he jumped just like the others. We got one!

We drove up and I nearly tripped as I came tumbling from the moving vehicle. The bird was quickly in hand and we put on the new unit, took some blood, and attached a wing tag. Kasine, who had joined us for the day, named the bird Ann after his girlfriend.

The bird was surprisingly mellow, especially for an African white-backed vulture, and only vomited slightly. Our scale showed the bird to be about 5.5 kg (nearly 11 lbs) – not bad for such a long distance mover. When all our work was through, the bird was ready for release. My heart was still in my throat from the adrenaline rush of the catch. I grasped the bird tightly around the neck and feet as I prepared for release. In my first vulture release, I had been terrified that the bird would turn around and come after me, but I knew better now. I set the bird down, releasing the feet first and then the head. With great effort (as always), the vulture ran forward and leapt into the air, wings flapping hard to lift its heavy body. Within moments the bird was airborne and off to its next adventure. Where would the bird go next? With the unit attached, we would know in a few hours.

Trapping vultures is hard. It takes almost as much patience as watching vultures. After our amazing day of two birds at once, we had three days of nothing. We caught one Tawny eagle, which was interesting, but not quite what we were going for. The Tawny managed to snag itself on one of the nooses just as ten vultures were feasting around it – what are the odds? We quickly drove up to grab it. I carefully secured both feet before removing the noose. Wilson, who up until this point had only ever handled vultures, went to secure the head. He sort of pinned the bird to the ground. I quickly explained that with this bird we really didn’t need to worry about that end.

You see when it comes to defense vultures and eagles are polar opposites. Vultures use their beaks – designed to quickly rip bone from flesh and with a long snake-like neck that is difficult to control – these are formidable weapons. The vulture’s talons on the other hand are incredibly blunt. All that walking around on the ground and they have basically filed their nails down. The talons are still impressively large, but they aren’t really sharp, so you don’t have to worry about them grabbing onto you with their feet. Alternatively the talons on an eagle are not only sharp, they are also strong. Designed to kill, crush, and carry small prey, the talons can do some serious damage in just one grab. Having been “taloned” by a red tailed hawk that we were trying to rehabilitate at the Cornell Wildlife Center, I can tell you it isn’t fun. The talons go right into your skin like tiny razor blades and can go all the way through your arm if you are particularly unlucky. In my case, the talons went in and out quickly which was fortunate as occasionally the birds can hold on.

In any case, what this all means is the handling techniques for vultures and eagles are totally different. With a vulture we carefully secure the head first and foremost and can worry about the feet later. With an eagle, you want to have a good hold of the talons before you do anything else. Then (as was to Wilson’s amazement) you can calmly hold the bird against your chest (feet secured with one hand) and occasionally can even have the beak of the bird resting against your arm with no trouble.

An eagle release is also a bit more dramatic as you can actually toss the bird up and let it take flight.

What a day! Let me start from the beginning. I woke up this morning at 5 AM. It was day two of trapping. Day one had been less than successful and I was beginning to wonder if I had been crazy to think that I could trap vultures during the low season. You see when the wildebeest come to Masai Mara in July so do the vultures. For three months, the park is overflowing with carcasses and scavengers. Trapping is made easy during this time, at least trapping African white-backed and Ruppell’s vultures, which are exceedingly common with upwards of sixty birds at each wildebeest carcass. But trapping Lappet-faced vultures is tricky. Only a few birds come to each carcass, they come late which means they are less likely to get trapped (since you have to put the trap down at the beginning and can’t go back and add it to a carcass without scaring all the birds), and they just tend to be a bit more cautious. So I had the brilliant idea that the low season would be the ideal time to trap Lappet-faced vultures with fewer African white-backs and Ruppell’s around. But after yesterday I was starting to worry if I could trap anything this time of year. Nonetheless I awoke with a feeling of mixed panic and hope and set out to trap.

My first stop was at Wilson’s house. Wilson, who helped trap last year and has helped throughout the project was obviously coming, but we had also recruited his brother (who also seemed to doubt our methods after yesterday), since you really need three people for stress-free trapping. I noticed a strange sound on the drive over, but didn’t really think much of it. Whatever it was it would be easier to fix it once I arrived than to stand around in the dark staring at the engine by myself. By the time I had reached Wilson’s house the sound was pretty loud and he raced over to see what was wrong with the car. I had a puncture, but by the time I had reached the house the puncture had turned into a nice rip through the entire tire, plus a totally torn up tube. The spare was flat. So much for trapping I thought. But Wilson would not be deterred so easily. One of his brothers who is a tour guide at another camp, happened to have his car by the house and he had a spare. So we put that on (even though it was a bit big) and were on our way. We had big plans for the morning and a nice spot picked out from the previous evening, but that wasn’t going to be possible now. It was after 6. So we opted for a closer though seemingly less desirable area. When bad things happen, I always try to hope that they are just the beginning of good things. On our drive out Wilson told me that since we had gotten a puncture, we would probably catch a bird this morning. Wilson was right.

Within an hour wasted on tire troubles we had to change plans. We could no longer go to our ideal spot and would have to try somewhere closer. Fortunately with all the carcass observations we have done we know where the best spots are and had a new trapping zone picked out in minutes. Off we went. We put out the carcass – a head, organs, and 1 kg of meat. We put most of the nooses around the head knowing that was where the Lappets would be most likely to feed. The birds came down fast and we soon had 33 African white-backes, 2 Marabou storks, 2 Hooded vultures, and a White-headed vulture, but no Lappets. All the birds were hesitant looking suspiciously at the strange loops that surrounded the carcass. But they were hungry. One bird finally went in and pulled the organs away from the nooses. The others quickly joined in and a feeding frenzy ensued. In the chaos, two Lappet-faced vultures landed and stole a piece. As the number of birds around the food increased a African white-backed vulture managed to ensnare himself. Just as we started the engine to race over, he pulled loose. Now only the sheep head remained and one of the nooses was turned obviously upwards. It seemed unlikely that any of the birds would approach again, but than a juvenile Lappet-faced landed. She started pulling at the head, ripping off pieces with her massive beak. Then she noticed something around her ankle, so did I. Through the binoculars, it was clear that she had stepped into our trap, but she wasn’t stuck yet. She reached carefully down with her beak and tried to remove the black loop. She looked like she just might be able to free herself when a pair of adult Lappet-faced vultures landed on top of her. She suddenly switched into attack mode, spreading her wings and lifting her tail feathers. As the adult came in fast, she jumped backwards forgetting completely about her new bracelet. With her violent action to escape her conspecifics, she had inadvertently pulled the noose shut. We drove in quickly. Within moments, the bird was in our arms and got a free ride as we moved her into the shade. After securing the GSM-GPS unit, we took a bit of blood to find out the gender (I just like to think she is a girl) and then we put on a wind tag. Weighing her was a bit tricky but we soon discovered that she was nearly 6.5 kg (not bad for a young bird). Then we set down the bag we had used to weigh her and let the bird out of the bag. She leaped out with great excitement as if this were her last chance for escape and then she was off. Interestingly she decided to go right back to where her trouble began and landed next to the head. Put after a few minutes she decided not to try her luck again. She took off. We named the bird Lolly after one of the most devoted administrators at Princeton University (some of you will know who I mean).

As Lolly the young Lappet-faced vulture flew away I looked on with some sadness. Though I had just seen the bird closer than I would many of my study subjects, this might also be the last time I would see her. With their huge ranges we often don’t see the same bird twice. From now on, Lolly would be a blinking blue dot on a map. I would watch her devotedly and with great fascination but also from a great distance. For a moment I wished I had spent more time with her. More time really taking in this magnificent creature – looking at her strange black “beard” of whisker-like feathers, admiring the soft juvenile fuss upon her head, feeling the fluffly downy feathers that would cover even her adult chest, or marveling at the long curved though surprisingly dull talons that had scrapped but not scratched me as we took some blood. But in the mad frenzy to get everything done and to get her back in the air as soon as possible, I had hardly bothered to look at her. Nonetheless this bird would now teach us so much about her species – where Lappet-faced vultures spend most of the year, how long they spend outside of protected areas, how far and how fast they do this and if we are unlucky how frequently vultures get poisoned. Lolly will give us a vital first hand, up-close-and-personal look at where Lappet-faced vultures go and what they need to survive.

After catching two Lappet-faced vultures in one day, I was exhausted but thrilled. The most difficult vulture to trap (at least of the three species I am putting GSM-GPS units) and we had gotten two in one day! In the evening we celebrated by dealing with the forgotten disaster of the morning – the tire. Then we dropped off the tire that had made it all possible with Wilson’s brother. Near his home a group of young boys gathered around. They had just started to celebrate their coming of age and decided to give us a show. Jumping and singing, they gave one of the cutest Masai performances I have ever seen with boys colliding and laughing, spitting and grunting in their miniature version of Masai warrior dancing.

Back in my tent, literally as I sat writing this, a genet poked its head through the tent door – just a small unzipped patch at the bottom. I watched amazed that it could somehow not see me despite being so close and in the glow my lamp light. Slowly the entire spotted body and long tail were inside the tent with me and it wasn’t until I said, “Hello” that the cat noticed me. Then panic struck, the genet raced back and forth, back and forth as if forgetting how it had gotten it. It clawed at the walls and I was just about to get up to open the door when it once again found its hole. Out it crawled in a mad dash back to the wild night. What a day indeed!

Isn't she cute?

Today an elephant charged us. Usually this would be an event of great concern, but today it was just cute. The elephant was a baby, pretty little guy. We could see him coming from a while off as he started his great stompy rush towards the road. By the time we were perpendicular to him he was coming fast, trunk up and trumpeting with all his little might. You could almost see the older elephants rolling their eyes at this foolishness. No one followed him or even acknowledged his distress. Everyone else stood ripping off pieces of grass and shoving them in their mouths as the little elephant came chasing after us. We stopped near him and he kept coming and coming – like a mini game of chicken. This probably felt safer on the driver’s side, where Wilson sat securely. The elephant was only a few feet from my door when it came to a stop. “What are you doing?” I chided him. His trumpeting stopped and he stood still a bit afraid and somewhat fascinated. I kept talking to him and he continued to stare at me curiously. I find talking to elephants always calms them or at least changes the mood – I often talk at charging elephants and it seems to change the identity of the vehicle in their eyes - no longer a hurdling mass but a sweet-talking entity. (This technique does not work on rhinos though). When no one had come to his rescue, the little elephant finally high tailed it back to mom, quite literally with his bushy little tail swung high in the air.

Today we also got a closer look at two of my other favorite animals – a hippo and a jumping spider. The shy hippo was wandering through the tall grass, munching as it went. A huge scar was visible along one of his bulky sides and blood sweat – the strange red liquid (though not actually blood) that acts as sweat, insect repellent, sun screen, and antiseptic – streamed from his pores, covering the wound. We didn’t get a much closer look than that as he kept his distance from the car, but it was just nice to see one out of the water for once. Then after lunch I found a gorgeous gold, red, and black jumping spider hanging out on our car. The two front legs were massive like a gorillas and they gave the spider’s robotic movements an almost crab-like feel. I gently positioned the spider with a bit of grass as I took a few photos. Every few moments the spider would swivel her head up to take a better look at me with her two great big eyes (she actually has more, but these were the only ones clearly visible). Jumping spiders actually see in color and have incredibly good vision. I wonder if she was as fascinated with my red hair as I was with her red tiny face. The golden markings looked painted and gave the spider an almost regal look. Before we left I bumped her off the car so she wouldn’t risk injury during transport.

Other fun and unique sightings for the week included a rare close-up with a small group of bat-eared foxes. Usually these little carnivores head right for their burrows when you drive near, but this group sat calmly and itchily as we approached. The whole group went through an immense scratching session as we watched with each individual using this back leg to scratch its giant ears (just like a dog) and then proceeded to groom its companions.

We also had a nice moment with a group of Ground Hornbills, a gentle and clumsy bird that I know well from my time at the Houston Zoo. One of the long eye-lashed males came up by the road and posed for some photos, while his companion grabbed a huge grasshopper, which she carried around with her for a while afterwards – proud of her insect trophy.

Ground Hornbill

Then we ended the week with a rhino charge. A young black rhino came right at us, chasing the car for a few hundred meters before stopping and crossing the road behind us. It seemed unusual for such a young animal to be on its own. Then we had a male Kori bustard displaying (they try to hard, inflating their necks and raising their tails) and actually saw a female with an adorable chick. Like a miniaturized version of the adult but with soft feathers and well-camouflaged colors of yellow and brown the chick wiggled along after the female, as the two birds cooed and squeaked at each other to stay together even in the tall grass.

Bat-eared fox - so cute!

It has been a week of lions. Everywhere we turned we saw one or the other. Unlike last week’s scrawny injured lioness, the big cats we have seen the last few days have been healthy and well-fed. A 12-member pride with two adult males, a juvenile male, and a female that resembles “Scar” from The Lion King (thanks to a warthog tusk that nearly removed her eye) sat happily with a buffalo kill. Then we saw a lioness with three large cubs – two girls and a boy. We stopped to watch them as they slept along the road. The male cub decided to cross right behind the car and I had a moment of panic as I absorbed the fact that I was only a few feet from such an impressively large animal with the windows open. He stopped just to the right of the car and lied down in the road. With the roof popped open, I stood staring into his deep yellow eyes while snapping a few shots. He yawned – big and I got a nice look at his teeth. When he finally went to join the girls on the other side of the road, his affectionate head rub was welcomed with a snarl from one of the other cubs as he collapsed onto his side for a further nap.

Little cub, big yawn

But the most exciting sighting of the week was not the lions. It was in fact a rare and endangered bird that I had yet to see in the Mara and which is believed to be effectively extinct in this area. An Egyptian vulture! A beautiful adult sat with some hooded vultures not too far from the buffalo kill. Made famous for their egg-cracking talents (these birds actually use rocks to break open ostrich eggs), this adult sat calmly, totally unaware of the star-struck field biologist that was oogling him. I just couldn’t believe that after five months of fieldwork here, this is the first Egyptian vulture I have seen. I would have loved to have known where this individual had flown in from, but I suppose I will just have to be content with the sighting itself.

The elusive Egyptian vulture

When I got back to my tent this afternoon, I noticed that my toothpaste was on the floor. This seemed a bit odd, but I didn’t really think much of it until I noticed the tooth marks. Someone had chewed on my toothpaste. It then dawned on me that I had seen a Ziploc bag outside my tent. A bit of random trash, nothing to worry about. But then where had it come from? What did I have in a Ziploc bag? I walked over to look at it and found granola wrappers scattered throughout the bushes. My granola bars – my last remnants of chocolate and processed food! Gone! I have been saving them for most of the trip but had started leaving the Ziploc bag of them out since I was often eating them before my little jogs. Now I would have to subsist on fruit and fried chicken alone. But who had eaten them and how had they gotten in . . . and out? I went back and searched the tent. A few books had been knocked over but nothing else was missing. Given the tooth marks which were tiny, I assumed it was either a mongoose or more likely vervet monkeys. A quick discussion with some of the staff at the lodge and the vervet monkey suspicion was confirmed. Those little monekys had run amok in my tent and finished off the last of my savory snack food.

I’m sitting on the veranda by the dining tent, looking out at the Mara. The rolling hills of green can be seen in the distance merging with the golden yellow of the tall grass plains below. The Talek river babbles slowly beneath me, the rains have slowed, though not quite stopped and the river still manages to flow around the rocks. It is cool and calm this morning, though the sun is up and soon its warm rays will warm the earth.

This week the Mara has shared with me many of its hidden treasures, even as I zip around almost ignoring the wildlife to see the vultures (sort of like missing the forest through the trees, I guess). On Friday, a leopard crept out into the road in front of our car. There was no one else around and big male seemed startled to be found. He moved quickly into the bushes and growled as I tried for a photo. Then as two tourist vehicles joined us he made a break for it, leaping effortlessly across a small stream and vanishing into the dense vegetation – probably not to be seen for several more weeks even with hundreds of people looking for him. On Saturday, we stopped for a chameleon who was crossing the road. In yellow and green he wiggled back and forth before each step trying to keep the fascade of being a leaf (blowing in the wind) going even as I stood next to him. When I bent down it was a different story. He hauled it to the nearest bushes, black spots appearing across his body as he flashed his rage in color. Then slowly he returned to a dark green as he entered the bushes. On Sunday, we saw one appears to be one of the last small groups of White storks. These migratory birds, which had overrun the place for the last month, are finally moving on. (It has been amazing to see the “other” migration, not of wildebeest, but of all the migratory birds that travel through Masai Mara this time of year). After having seen flocks in the hundreds blacked the sky in synchronized motion, this group of twenty seemed pitiful. Then one bird leaped in excitement its yellow beak flashing as it lifted a three-foot snake into the air. It flew with it trying to escape its hungry neighbors and stood for a while as if unsure how to consume its unusual prey. On Monday, we would see a similar display but perhaps from a less ackward predator, as a Tawny eagle ripped a small snake into pieces along the side of the road. On Tuesday, I saw the female lioness, who I have come to know so well. She stood wobbling next to the road. It wasn’t just her paw that was injured anymore. That injury had cost her dearly and the once healthy lioness that I had seen so many times as deteriorated into a skeleton of cat, ribs jutting against her skin and hips exposed and sagging. Her pain seemed to have extended as she was not only limping now, but also staggering, perhaps stiff from all her lying around. I wondered how long it will be before the predator falls prey to the scavengers and the vultures return her to the ground.