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The Pelican Files: The Case of
the Missing Fish!
©
Roger Hammond
Introduction - part I:
Late...very late
Central Swamp, Amachamee Island, Florida
May 7 - 5.12pm - two days ago: A huge bird flew at great speed over
the grassy wetlands of Amachamee Island. She was very late. She knew she
shouldn't have stopped back at that retention pond on the mainland, but she
really couldn't help herself - she simply had to.
To make matters worse, she sensed that she was being followed, and though
she had glanced behind several times in the last few minutes and had never
once seen anyone, she was still convinced.
She wanted to circle round to be able to get a proper look at whoever it was
that might be following, but time most definitely wasn't on her side. She
wanted to stay in the open, having picked up a helpful tailwind, but
instinct told her that her pursuer was closing, so she rapidly lowered her
altitude, took a sharp left and entered Central Swamp.
If only she'd known there was no one following, then none of the events of
the next few days would ever have happened.
Concentrating intently on the narrow, tree-lined canals, she dipped and
swerved to avoid the branches of the bald cypress and mangroves that reached
over the shallow water, seemingly intent on blocking her path.
The deeper into the swamp she went, the narrower the canals became, so that
her progress was severely hindered, more so because of her huge seven foot
wingspan.
Turning sharp right, she fought her way through the gaps in the dense
mangroves, until she was flying low over a wider and far less obstructed
canal. Ahead of her the trees thinned out even more at the point where three
canals intersected one much larger body of water - the Amachamee Waterway,
the main thoroughfare that ran the length of the island.
She was nearly there.
Back in the open, she glanced up at the sun and saw that she was already
well over half an hour late for her appointment, but even so, she felt much
calmer having seen that there was still no one following. So she switched
her attention to the afternoon ahead, and rehearsed her lines in her head.
Unfortunately, she was completely oblivious to the loud and constant croaks
of Police Commissioner Ardea who was rapidly approaching the intersection
from the south.
Introduction - part II:
The Auditions
Lake Amachamee, Amachamee Island, Florida
February 4 - three months ago: "Hi, I'm Calista. Calista means most
beautiful. It's Greek," she added, introducing herself to the young Crane
that was also auditioning.
"And I'm Calliope, that's Greek too. It means beautiful voice. Who are you?"
Calista's sister asked.
"They call me Chilali," the young bird answered. "It’s a Chippewa name."
Calista and Calliope looked at each other with blank expressions, and
shrugged.
"It means snowbird," Chilali enlightened the two Sandhill Cranes.
"That’s nice," Calista replied, trying to sound sincere. "And where are you
from?" she added, noticing his Mid-West accent.
"Wisconsin," Chilali answered.
"Really?" Calliope seemed doubtful. "I’d have guessed you were Canadian."
"No way," her sister said with certainty. "You can tell by his twang."
"You can?" Calliope questioned.
Calista nodded. "Sure you can."
The two Sandhill Cranes looked at the tall young bird. He was scruffy,
generally white, but his entire body was flecked with cinnamon, and his head
and neck were heavily mottled with orange-brown feathers. But even so, there
was definitely something about him that unnerved the sisters.
"Good luck," Calista said unconvincingly, when Chilali was called for his
audition. "And don't worry, you'll soon have beautiful gray feathers like
ours."
"Check out the bling," Calliope whispered, looking at the inscribed blue,
white and yellow bands on Chilali's legs as he walked away. "Shall we let
him join the sisterhood?"
"Don't even go there," Calista replied caustically, once Chilali was out of
earshot. "That's unquestioningly one of the most disturbing things I've ever
seen in my entire life," she added coldly.
"It's not like he's totally unfortunate looking, but…"
"I'll have nightmares for weeks."
"Calista," Calliope said pensively, "we didn't look like that when we were
young, did we?"
"I should hope not!"
"No, I mean we didn't have any white feathers did we, apart from our white
cheeks?" Calliope continued.
"No. First cinnamon, then brown, now gray."
"But he's going to be all white when he grows up, you can tell. Are you sure
he's a Sandhill?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"You don't think it's possible he's one of the mystical Wh…?"
Calista's laughing interrupted her sister. She couldn't help herself.
"Are you serious?" she managed to say between laughs. "There hasn't been a
sighting on Amachamee for years, if ever. So why would there be one now?"
"I don't know, but…"
"And no one really knows if they even still exist. I mean have you ever seen
one?" Calista questioned.
"No, but…"
"I certainly haven't."
"But just say he is one of them," Calliope continued, "just say…then isn't
he going to get all the modeling gigs?"
Calista was suddenly concerned.
"Then Calliope, oh sister of mine," she pondered, "we will need a strategic
plan."
"You've got something in mind?" Calliope asked, smiling.
"I totally have something in mind," Calista said, her eyes sparkling. "This
is going to be great. What I'm thinking is this…"
The Sandhills plotted for the whole time that Chilali was auditioning.
Calista was doing most of the talking and only stopped because she was
called for her try-out for the Grackles.
"So what do you think?" she asked.
"Calista!" Calliope exclaimed excitedly. "That is a totally awesome plan!"
"Okay, but not a word to anyone, right?"
"Classified Crane," Calliope answered.
"Silent Sandhill," Calista replied.
"Alright!" they hollered in unison, high-fiving with their outstretched
primary flight feathers, before Calista set off to the interview area.
A brief explanation
I’m very sorry to interrupt just when we’re getting started, but for the
benefit of the few of you out there who for some inexplicable reason might
not know me, perhaps I should introduce myself.
My full name is Pelecanus Occidentalis Carolinensis, though everyone knows
me simply as Peli. I'm a five year old Eastern Brown Pelican, a true Florida
girl, and mom to a beautiful and rapidly growing youngster named Pecan.
And I consider myself extremely fortunate to live on a stunningly beautiful
barrier island, known by the birds as Amachamee, which lies in the Gulf of
Mexico, just to the south-west of the City of Sarasota on Florida's
Suncoast.
Though it's a small island, Amachamee is home to tens of thousands of birds
and because of the island's vast diversity of habitats, it is home to
numerous different species.
It’s the year-round home to over one hundred and forty varieties, and during
the spring and fall migrations, there can be an additional hundred species
taking advantage of the freshwater lake, the rivers, the mangrove swamps,
the prairie, the woodlands, the tidal inlets and, of course, the beautiful
beaches. At the peak of spring migration in late April, as many as fifty
thousand transient birds will refuel on Amachamee having completed their
long and arduous journey across the Caribbean Sea.
It was here on Amachamee that I founded my private investigating firm, now
known as Pelegret Inc., where I am ably assisted in my work by my best
friend and indispensable business partner, Mr Egret.
Mr Egret is a Great Egret, a name he feels is extremely appropriate, though
he does spell Great with a small 'g', and I've known him ever since we
fledged and left our respective nests. We first met when the Pouches played
the Long-Legs in the grand final of the Inter-Avian High School Featherball
tournament, a game not too dissimilar to your basketball, and despite the
Egrets convincingly beating my team of valiantly battling Pelicans, we've
been best friends ever since.
I established my private investigating firm shortly after leaving school,
having discovered that for some reason I had quite the knack for solving
other birds' problems. I became pretty successful, and it wasn't too long
before the cases became more intricate and the workload increased to such an
extent that it was clearly evident that I needed help. Mr Egret had helped
me out on a few occasions in the past, so he was the obvious choice for me
to take on as my business partner, and so Pelegret Inc. was formed.
Our mission is very simple; we help birds in trouble, and many are amazed
just how much private investigating work there is in the bird world, and how
complex and potentially disastrous many of the cases can be.
And this is why I decided to put pen to paper and write about our more
notable cases, so that there is documented proof of our adventures.
For Mr Egret and I, the case that I'm about to recount really got going on
May 9, just after I was discharged from hospital, having broken my leg while
we were trying to solve the Case of the Missing Fish back in April.
But to find the true start of this story, we have to go back to the previous
October, to Necedah National Wildlife Refuge in Wisconsin, where a flock of
impatient birds was preparing for their southerly migration to Florida.
Waiting...and waiting...and waiting
Necedah National Wildlife Refuge, Wisconsin
October 15 - seven months ago: "Do you have to stand like that?"
"I'm trying to keep warm."
"Do you know what you look like?"
"As I just told you, Callidora," Cain said as patiently as he could. "I am
trying to keep warm. I'm freezing my tail off here."
"But standing there with your wings outstretched, your belly sticking out
and your beak open, it's so undignified!"
"May I remind you that it was your decision to stay, not mine," Cain
remarked.
"We had to stay," Callidora replied. "Do I need to remind you that we've got
responsibilities now?"
Cain folded back his wings and looked around. Though it was unquestionably
chilly, even he had to admit that Necedah was beautiful at this time of
year.
"So, is there any news?" he sighed.
"No, nothing," Callidora replied.
"It's been a week now!" Cain exclaimed angrily. "What's going on? One minute
we're going, then we're not, then we are, then we're not. I'm fed up with
it!"
"Yeah I know. But look at the positives, you have to admit this Indian
summer is gorgeous."
"Gorgeous? It’s freezing! I can hardly sleep because I’m shivering so much."
"I admit it's a bit nippy at night," Callidora agreed. "But it's beautiful
during the day, if it weren’t for the breeze."
"Breeze? Biting Arctic wind more like."
"It's not that bad!"
"It is," Cain countered.
"It's not! Besides, it's coming from the south," Callidora pointed out,
"which is why we're still here. No one wants to have to fly into a strong
headwind. I certainly don’t, that’s for sure."
"Yeah, but I can't stand this shilly-shallying. I just wish that everyone
would hurry up and make up their minds. It's the not knowing what's going on
that I hate," Cain moaned.
"You should try and relax, getting all hot and bothered isn't going to get
us under way any quicker. Here, have a crayfish," Callidora said, passing
him a crustacean.
"No thank you!" Cain snapped. "I'm sick of crayfish."
"But you love crayfish, and they're good for you. All that protein and fat
is exactly what we need to make it through the migration."
"If I eat another crayfish, I won't be able to get off the ground!"
"Oh don't be so silly!" Callidora said with smile.
"But look at me!" Cain exclaimed, holding his wings out and pointing with
his flight feathers. "I've got a crayfish belly!"
"Well, you should eat something," Callidora said. "And will you please stop
standing like that?"
"I guess so," Cain said, closing his wings for a second time. "Maybe I'll
have a nibble on some seeds."
"Now you're being ridiculous! You've got to eat properly. If you don't..."
"I can't wait until we get to Florida so I can have a blue crab," Cain
interrupted.
"Oh, I love blue crab," Callidora drooled.
"So why don't we go now?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, let's get going now!" he exclaimed.
"On our own?" Callidora couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Yeah, why not? We've done this flight before."
"But not on our own," she protested. "The others haven't. Chilali hasn't!"
"But we have done it," Cain continued with insistence. "We’ve done it before
so we can do it again. We're ready, all of us are, and you know it."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I am." Cain said, very seriously.
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