The Great Blue Heron

  • An island in the Upper Mississippi, not far from downtown Minneapolis, is home to many Great Blue Herons.(Photo courtesy of Stephanie Hemphill)

Some people say robins are the first sign of spring. But there’s another bird that makes a dramatic entry in northern states. The Great Blue Heron soars in to make a nest… and guard it:

Transcript

Some people say robins are the first sign of spring. But there’s another bird that makes a dramatic entry in northern states. The Great Blue Heron soars in to make a nest… and guard it:

On an island in the Upper Mississippi River, a stand of cottonwood trees is silhouetted against a gray sky. The bare branches are festooned with big nests, made of twigs and branches. Next to the nests, like sentinels at the castle gate, stand Great Blue Herons. These birds are four feet tall. More than a hundred of them are claiming their domain in these trees, just upriver from downtown Minneapolis. When one takes off and glides away, its six-foot wing span dwarfs the ducks and songbirds sharing the island.

It’s hard to tell the males from the females because they’re the same blue and gray. Birder Sharon Stiteler is leading me on a tour of this rookery.

“The males arrive first, and they work out who’s going to take which nest. Where you see one bird standing up, that is most likely a male. He’s hanging out there because the other males who are still waiting to attract a female could come by and steal sticks out of his nest to make his nest look better.”

On some nests, you can see females already sitting on pale blue eggs the size of small mangoes. But Stiteler says herons are not always good parents.

“If the chick falls out of the nest and lands on the ground, that chick is toast: the parents will not continue feeding it. And oftentimes you’ll see turkey vultures hanging out at rookeries, and they’re waiting for the young to fall and starve, and then they’ll have a whole bunch of food.”

But at least on this island, there won’t be many predators like coyotes or foxes.

These birds were once threatened by humans. Their cousins the egrets were hunted for their beautiful white feathers, and both suffered disastrous population loss until the pesticide DDT was banned.

Now you can see them in streams and lakes all over. They breed in Canada and the upper midwest. They spend their winters wherever they can find food. Herons literally stalk their prey.

“They have a lot of patience, and they just stare at one spot for long time, and then they jab down and grab the fish. Their beak is shaped like a pair of super-sharp chopsticks. Sometimes they catch a huge fish and they have to juggle it around, especially if they have it perpendicular with their beak, they have to jostle it around, and the fish is wiggling, and eventually they get it just right so it’s straight in line with the bill, and you can watch this huge thing slide down that long slender neck.”

Sharon Stiteler is a part-time naturalist with the National Park Service, and she writes a blog called bird-chick-dot-com.

Today the herons are pretty quiet. But Stiteler has a Blackberry loaded with their sounds, including the prehistoric squawk they make when they’re startled.

And Stiteler says it can sound really strange when the young are clattering for food.

After the young are raised — at least the ones that survive — the herons will stay here on the river, until it freezes over and they can’t fish anymore. Stiteler says the birds decamp all at once.

“One day we have Great Blue Herons, and the next day they’re gone, and they migrate at night.”

They tuck back their long necks when they fly, forming an S-shape and hiding their true length.

Stiteler says the recovery of Great Blue Herons, along with pelicans, eagles, and other birds near the top of the food chain is a sign of a healthier ecosystem.

For The Environment Report, I’m Stephanie Hemphill.

Related Links

Parrots in Brooklyn

  • The parrots build nests around transformers for warmth. But the nests can catch fire and cause people to lose their electricity. (Photo by Steve Baldwin)

Think ‘city bird,’ and you probably
think ‘pigeon.’ But in some cities,
another kind of bird is thriving –
the bright green monk parrot. Some
people love them; some people hate
them. Samara Freemark
went to Brooklyn to find them:

Transcript

Think ‘city bird,’ and you probably
think ‘pigeon.’ But in some cities,
another kind of bird is thriving –
the bright green monk parrot. Some
people love them; some people hate
them. Samara Freemark
went to Brooklyn to find them:

No one really knows just how the parrots got to Brooklyn. But the best guess is they were shipped here from Argentina in the 1960s. They were supposed to go to pet stores. But somewhere along the way someone opened a shipping crate and the parrots escaped. Now there are thousands of the birds in colonies across Brooklyn.

“They’ve reinvented themselves as a north American species.”

That’s Steve Baldwin. He’s a tall, white haired native New Yorker and, I think it’s fair to say, a parrot fanatic.

“It has probably something to do with the peculiar person I am. I think I probably regarded myself as an outsider for most of my life. And so the idea you could have these creatures who really don’t belong here, somehow make the transition and now they belong here. I just found that a personally inspiring story.”

Steve started a website about the parrots. He leads monthly parrot tours. He even wrote a song about the parrots.

“I got some news for you baby and it might not be so good. There’s an avian invader in the neighborhood. Well, they’re little green parrots from the Argentine…”

I met up with Steve as he was starting one of his tours of the parrot colony at Brooklyn College.

“I’ve been following these little green guys for about 5 years. One of the things that endears it is that it’s very smart. In fact the monk parakeet is the second best talking parrot. Next to the African gray, the monk parrot is number two. Are there any particularly Brooklyn sounds that they… well, occasionally you’ll find one that’s imitating a car alarm.”

We head over to the college’s soccer field.

“Sometimes when we come out here we’re lucky and the parrots are down on the ground, eating the grass. But I don’t see them today. So we’re just going to keep moving. Uh! Here they come! There they go! We got a good group.”

There are probably 50 parrots living in the Brooklyn College colony. But it’s one of many colonies across New York. There are about 450 parrot nests in the city. That’s according to numbers from Con Edison, New York City’s energy provider.

Con Edison tracks the nests because for the company, the parrots are actually a pretty big headache. A couple of days after the tour I met up with Chris Olert. He’s Con Edison’s point man for dealing with all problems parrot-related.

“What happens is, these birds build nests around our transformers, because of the warmth. And these are not little hold in your hand nests. Some are three or 4 or 5 feet tall, and 3 or 4 or 5 ft wide. They’re huge. And they do catch on fire. And those fires have resulted in customers losing their electricity.”

Con Edison has been trying to figure out what to do about the parrots for years now. They tried knocking the nests down – but the parrots came back and rebuilt. Last year they even installed some mechanical owls with rotating heads to frighten the parrots away.

“The owl was – some of our people who work in the overhead in Queens spotted these owls in a hardware store and put them up on the equipment, but the parrots pretty much laughed in their faces.”

Nothing has really worked. Olert says Con Edison’s numbers show the New York parrot population growing by 10% every year.

At that rate, in a couple of decades they could be as ubiquitous – and as hated – as that other New York bird – the pigeon.

For The Environment Report, I’m Samara Freemark.

Related Links

Population Control for Cormorants

  • Biologists Jim Farquhar and Mike Smith inspect the cormorant nests in the treetops. (Photo by Karen Kelly)

The pesticide DDT almost wiped
out the double-crested cormorant.
Now, the bird is thriving, and it’s
blamed for devouring fish in lakes,
rivers, and fish farms in many parts
of the country. Karen Kelly reports
on the struggle to share resources
with this unpopular bird:

Transcript

The pesticide DDT almost wiped
out the double-crested cormorant.
Now, the bird is thriving, and it’s
blamed for devouring fish in lakes,
rivers, and fish farms in many parts
of the country. Karen Kelly reports
on the struggle to share resources
with this unpopular bird:

(sound of clanking and birds)

Mike Smith eases a boat into the shallow water just off Little Murphy Island. It’s a tiny patch of sand and trees in the middle of the St. Lawrence River. It straddles the New York border with Canada.

Smith is a wildlife technician with New York’s department of environmental conservation. He specializes in cormorant management. That means he knocks down nests, breaks eggs, and – very occasionally – shoots them.

Before he even jumps off the boat, he starts counting the birds that are poking out of nests in the treetops.

“I see a few. I’m looking at their nests. We tried to have a zero percent successful reproduction rate.”

Smith counts maybe ten nests. They started with 150 or so in the spring.

There are tens of thousands of these birds. They spend their summers in the north. And in the winter, they go south where they raid fish farms.

Biologists estimate each bird eats a pound of fish a day. That can make a dent in the local fish population. The birds also strip trees of their leaves to create nests. And their guano ends up killing the trees’ root systems. That ends up driving out other animals that need vegetation.

Some people feel the birds should be eradicated. One group of anglers was even arrested for killing hundreds of them on Lake Ontario.

There are others, like the group Cormorant Defenders International. They feel they should be protected.

It’s up to biologists like Jim Farquhar of New York’s Department of Environmental Conservation to find the balance between human needs and cormorants.

Farquhar: “We have needs too, as people.”

Karen: “And we’re competing with them.”

Farquhar: “And we’re competing with them in some cases. Hopefully, if we can inject good science, we make good decisions as a result.”

The biologists’ biggest effort has been on Lake Ontario. They’ve been destroying nests there — and killing some adults – for ten years. Farquhar says they’re finally seeing results.

They’ve reduced the cormorant population on the lake by about two-thirds, and the fishing’s improved.

Now, the biologists are trying to have the same success on the St. Lawrence River. But they’ve only seen a 13% decrease in the number of cormorant nests and they’ve been doing it for four years.

Part of the challenge is that most of the birds live on Canadian soil where management is left to the landowner.

Local anglers like Steve Sharland of Ogdensburg, New York, are frustrated with the slow progress.

“They should eliminate them. They’re not a Northern New York bird and what they’re doing to our fisheries is a sin.”

That’s a common misconception. Actually, the cormorant is native to the region but few people have seen them in such large numbers.

Sharland says some people are so frustrated, they’ve been shooting the birds illegally. But Jim Farquhar believes those are isolated incidents.

“Mike just mentioned that we’ve got some black-crowned night herons nesting out here. It’s another species we’re concerned about, and one we’ve been trying to actively protect from the cormorants. So that’s a good sign.”

A good sign. But it’s another species trying to live on this small patch of land. And the biologists’ balancing act has become even more delicate.

For The Environment Report, I’m Karen Kelly

Related Links

Osprey Nest Near Fish Hatchery

  • The osprey is a bird that scoops fish out of rivers and lakes (Photo courtesy of the National Parks Service)

Ospreys are birds of prey that eat fish. Todd Melby tells us about a pair of osprey that tried to nest near a fish hatchery:

Transcript

Ospreys are birds of prey that eat fish. Todd Melby tells us
about a pair of osprey that tried to nest near a fish hatchery:

The osprey is a raptor that scoops fish out of rivers and lakes.

So when a pair of osprey decided to mate near a DNR fish hatchery south of
Minneapolis, biologists were delighted and worried.

Ospreys rarely nest so far south. So that was good news. What worried biologists was
whether the birds would eat the fish. Biologists decided these fish were too small.

Another worry was the ospreys’ choice of a nesting site. In this case, the birds picked an
electrical power pole.

Lisa Gelvin-Innvaer is with the Minnesota DNR.

“They like high areas. Places that have room for them to put their nest. Transmission
poles often provide that.”

Biologists decided that was a bad idea, so they’ve built a tall nesting platform near the
power pole.

“We’re hopeful with the new nesting platform, that they’ll come back and attempt to nest
again.”

For The Environment Report, I’m Todd Melby.

Related Links

Woody the Woodpecker: Save My Home!

  • Chet Meyers surveys the Cedar Creek Ecosystem Science Reserve for Red-headed Woodpeckers. He's heading up a study to identify the bird's preferred habitat, and to encourage landowners to let dead and dying trees stand, as woodpecker homes. (Photo by Stephanie Hemphill)

Red-headed woodpeckers used to
be just about everywhere east of the Rocky
Mountains. But these days the number of
red-headed woodpeckers is about half of
what it was fifty years ago. Stephanie
Hemphill reports volunteers
are working on a new project to get people
to help red-headed woodpeckers. They’re
encouraging landowners to let dead or dying
trees stand rather than cut them down:

Transcript

Red-headed woodpeckers used to
be just about everywhere east of the Rocky
Mountains. But these days the number of
red-headed woodpeckers is about half of
what it was fifty years ago. Stephanie
Hemphill reports volunteers
are working on a new project to get people
to help red-headed woodpeckers. They’re
encouraging landowners to let dead or dying
trees stand rather than cut them down:

You can’t miss Red-headed Woodpeckers. They have long beaks,
bright red heads and snowy white breasts. And if you go to the right
place, you can find a lot of them.

“Somebody told me that there was Red-headed Woodpeckers up
here, so I walked five minutes, and there was a Red-headed
Woodpecker, and it flew into a hole in a tree, and I says, ‘wow, this is
easy.’”

Lance Nelson first visited the Cedar Creek Ecosystem Science
Reserve about a year ago.

“And then I came up this year and found 8 nests. But the young
make a lot of chattering, so you can usually tell where the nest is.”

Today they’re not hammering on trees – the sound most of us
associate with woodpeckers – but they’re doing plenty of chattering.

This reserve in southern Minnesota looks a lot like how much of the
Midwest used to look.

There are clumps of big oak trees here, separated by open areas of
native grasses, shrubs and wildflowers. The biologists call it an oak
savannah.

And there are Red-headed Woodpeckers everywhere – about fifty of
them on this 500-acre patch of ground.

“There’s a red-headed, and he’s got a baby with him. God, they’re
beautiful. They are so beautiful.”

That’s Chet Meyers. After a career as a college professor, he’s now
in charge of an effort to make more places where Red-headed
Woodpeckers can build their nests and raise their young.

If they can figure out exactly what the woodpeckers like so much
about this place, maybe they can come close to reproducing the
same conditions other places.

Chet Meyers is marking every tree where the woodpeckers have
nested.

“See these two trees to the left, go to the right-most one, it forks, and
there’s a broken-off snag up there, looks like a ‘Y’. That’s where the
babies were sticking their head out a couple weeks ago. It was really
cute.”

Once the trees are marked, the group will catalog exact descriptions
of each tree. They’re hoping to come up with a profile of the perfect
home for Red-headed Woodpeckers.

“And we’re going to measure the diameter of the tree, how high the
nest cavity is, the species of the tree, is it alive or is it dead, so we
can get some data on what seems to be the preferred habitat.”

Once they’re pretty sure they know what the woodpeckers like, they’ll
reach out to land owners. They’ll to try to get them to leave dead and
dying trees standing.

That could work on old abandoned farms, where there are trees and
open spaces. Or in cemeteries. Or around golf courses.

“If our theory – see, this is all theory – if our theory is correct, the golf
course replicates an oak savannah and there should be birds there.
So, that’s what we’re hoping.”

And Meyers says helping woodpeckers means helping other wildlife
too.

“The woodpecker is called a primary nester, it digs the cavity. But
flying squirrels, mice, snakes, bluebirds, tree swallows – there are lots
of other animals that are secondary nesters. They can’t drill the hole.
But they live there. So what we’re trying to do is preserve the habitat
so the woodpeckers drill the hole and when they leave, something
else will come in and live in it.”

The researchers think if you have dead or dying tree, that could be a
home for a Red-headed Woodpecker. But usually homeowners are
worried the tree could fall and damage something, Meyers says you
can cut off the top and some of the bigger branches and leave the
rest of the tree standing. They think the red-headed woodpecker will
be just as happy.

For The Environment Report, I’m Stephanie Hemphill.

Related Links

Nature’s Little Architects

  • The nest of a Swainsons warbler. (Photo by Judith McMillan)

Some of the world’s most intricate
architecture is not always constructed by
humans. Sometimes the most skilled architectural
wonders are designed by nature. Gretchen Cuda reports on an exhibit that celebrates
birds’ nests:

Transcript

Some of the world’s most intricate
architecture is not always constructed by
humans. Sometimes the most skilled architectural
wonders are designed by nature. Gretchen Cuda reports on an exhibit that celebrates
birds’ nests:

Judith McMillan didn’t find her inspiration in tree branches. She found it in the
basement of the museum where she works. She was rummaging through drawers
there when she came across a hundred-year-old collection of bird nests.

“This Museum must have 10 cabinets full of bird’s nests.”

She was fascinated and immediately knew she had a new subject for her art.

McMillan is a photographer who has been volunteering at the Cleveland Museum of
Natural history for 20 years. In her latest exhibit, titled “Nesting”, she captures some
of natures most inspiring, and often overlooked architecture – the nests of birds.

(sound of exhibit crowd)

“I was looking for nests that were different from each other so that you could see that
these birds were little architects. And there were so many different kinds of materials
used – and then the eggs could be so different. Some with little tiny speckles, some
with different colors some with little calligraphic streaks around them, so it was that
variety that I wanted to capture.”

All the photographs are in black and white – because she really wanted people to
concentrate on the architecture without being seduced by the color. She’s fascinated
by the way different birds chose very specific materials to work with – everything
from marsh reeds, grape vine, or little knotty twigs – like this one.

“This is a vermillion flycatcher – it’s almost like it’s made of pick up sticks in the way
their pushed together.”

And to emphasize the diversity of structures birds can create she shows me an
Orioles nest that’s five inches deep and formerly hung like a basket from a tree.

“I actually had to shine a flashlight down in it when I was taking the photograph in
order to get the eggs to show up.”

Most of the nests and eggs were collected around the turn of the 20th century by
amateur naturalists who never thought twice about disturbing the natural wildlife.

But the practice eventually fell out of fashion as people became more
environmentally conscious and large nest and egg collections were often turned over
to museums – explains Andy Jones the museum’s ornithologist.

“People whose grandfathers were dealing with eggs as a hobby, well their
grandfathers are passing away and so they contact their local university or natural
history museum, and say, ‘hey do you want these?’”

Those specimens were originally collected just because they were pretty. These
days, they’re still beautiful, but they also serve a scientific purpose. Scientists can
look at things such as the thickness of the shells, or the type and number of birds
found in a specific location and tell a lot about the birds. They can see where birds
used to live and how far their territories reached. They can even tell if a bird that’s
extinct now once lived in an area.

Judith McMillan hopes her photographs will not only show how beautiful the birds’
handiwork was, but will also inspire people to do something about saving the birds
that are still here.

“I didn’t understand until I started using a camera myself how you can isolate
something and make people look at it differently–And I hope through my
photographs I’m getting people to take a fresh look at things. It’s hard to have an
appreciation of nature unless you really look at it and start to really care about it.”

Recent surveys have found that many songbirds are disappearing. If people don’t
start caring, those photographs and drawers full of nests might become the only
reminders of many more species that go extinct.

(song of a Cardinal)

For The Environment Report, I’m Gretchen Cuda.

Related Links

Whooping Cranes’ Poor Parenting

  • Whooping cranes have been abandoning their nests, and eggs, in search of food (Photo courtesy of the US Fish and Wildlife Service)

The experiment to create a migrating flock
of whooping cranes in the Eastern US is having a
parenting problem. Chuck Quirmbach reports:

Transcript

The experiment to create a migrating flock
of whooping cranes in the Eastern US is having a
parenting problem. Chuck Quirmbach reports:

About 70 whooping cranes now migrate between the Southeast US and the Midwest.
Wildlife experts have been hoping that more pairs of the birds would start hatching eggs
and raising chicks in the wild.

This spring, at their northern home in Wisconsin, several female cranes did lay eggs and
sat on the nests during cold weather. But when it warmed up, the adult birds abandoned
their nests to look for food.

George Archibald is co-founder of the International Crane Foundation.

“If there is a food stress, when it becomes warmer their drive to feed may increase much
more than when it’s cold.”

Some of the crane eggs were saved and hatched out by wildlife centers.

For The Environment Report, I’m Chuck Quirmbach.

Related Links

Keeping an Eye on Eagles

  • The bald eagle was protected by the Endangered Species Act for 40 years, but researchers are still finding toxic chemicals in the eagles' plasma. (Photo by William Bowerman)

The bald eagle came close to extinction
before strong measures were taken to help pull
it back. The eagle was protected by the Endangered
Species Act for 40 years. And the government banned
toxic compounds such as DDT that caused damage to the
eagles’ eggs. Bob Allen caught up with researchers
who are monitoring the health of the birds. They’re
finding the birds are still being exposed to toxic
chemicals:

Transcript

The bald eagle came close to extinction
before strong measures were taken to help pull
it back. The eagle was protected by the Endangered
Species Act for 40 years. And the government banned
toxic compounds such as DDT that caused damage to the
eagles’ eggs. Bob Allen caught up with researchers
who are monitoring the health of the birds. They’re
finding the birds are still being exposed to toxic
chemicals:


We’re on a steep, heavily wooded hillside about a mile above a
barrier dam on the Muskegon River in Michigan. The land is part of a private
church camp. So, human intrusion on the site is low. And the
pond behind the dam provides plenty of food for eagles rearing
their young.


Once every five years researchers are permitted to come here and
take young birds from the nest.


“Usually we try to keep people about a quarter mile away from the
nest. And that way we don’t have human disturbance that
would cause them to fail.”


Bill Bowerman is a wildlife toxicologist from Clemson
University. He first became part of this eagle survey as a grad
student at Michigan State more than 20 years ago, about the time
researchers began taking blood and feather samples.


Wildlife veterinarian Jim Sikarskie says eagles sit atop
the aquatic food chain, so any contaminants in the ecosystem
eventually show up in them:


“The contaminants that are in the plasma from the blood and
from the feathers then help us evaluate the quality of the water in
the area around the nest. So we do birds from different watersheds
every 5 years as part of the water quality surveillance plan.”


The nest is a tangled mass of twigs in an aspen tree swaying in a
strong breeze about 60 feet off the ground. As the research team
approaches, the female lifts off and begins to circle and squawk
just above the tree-tops.


They lay out syringes and test tubes on the ground. Walter
Nessen gets ready to climb the tree. He’s worked with
Bowerman monitoring sea eagles in his native South Africa.


Walter buckles into his harness and straps a pair of climbing
spikes to his boots. He has the kind of wiry strength and agility
that makes for a good climber. He prefers not to use gloves to
handle the eaglets because he relies on a sense of feel between
his hands and their legs:


“Immature birds, nestlings, are quite delicate because their
feathers are not hard-pinned. In other words, there’s still
blood circulating inside the feathers as it’s growing. One has
to be careful not to bend them or break them because they
will not develop further. That’s the most important thing.
The other thing is you need to take care the birds have big
claws. It’s one of the first things developing on the birds so
they can attack you and claw you and scratch you and that
kind of thing.”


Walter wraps his climbing rope, really a polyester-covered steel
cable, around the trunk of the tree, locks it into his harness and up
he goes.


First he checks nestlings to be sure they’re old enough and in
good condition before lowering them down in a special padded
“eagle bag.”


With young eagles on the ground, everyone becomes hushed and
businesslike. Bowerman writes down the eaglet’s weight and
other measurements. They’re four to five pounds with some
down-like feathers still clinging to them. Most prominent are
their dark beaks and yellow-orange claws.


Sikarskie carefully drops a cloth hat over an eaglet’s head to keep
the bird calm. Then, he talks a young grad student through
taking her first blood sample from the underside of a delicate
wing.


The two nestlings are examined for parasites. Then, they’re leg
banded, tucked gently back in the bags and hoisted aloft. They’re
out of the nest for maybe fifteen minutes.


Places like this, far upriver from the Great Lakes, were refuges
for eagles back in the DDT era. Eagles survived here because
fish couldn’t pass above barrier dams on the rivers and carry their
toxic burden with them, and Bowerman says the difference is still
noticeable today:


“If you live along the Great Lakes you still have higher levels
of PCBs. You still find DDE, which is the egg shell thinning
compound that caused the eagle’s decline in the first place. If
you’re in an area like this which is upstream of the Great
Lakes, there’s much less level in these inland birds.”


Eagle research in Michigan extends back 47 years.
Bowerman calls it the oldest continuous wildlife survey in the
world. It’s a record that documents the recovery of a species in
trouble, but sometimes the information has a more immediate
impact.


Bowerman says some years ago, tests on baby eagle’s blood
from Michigan showed a spike of an unknown chemical. Lab
tests found it to be from a product called Scotch Guard, a stain
repellent for fabric produced by the 3M Company.


When told about it, 3M hired Bowerman’s professor, John Geise,
to find out how widespread the compound was:


“John’s lab went all across the world collecting tissues of
different wildlife species. And they found it world-wide. And
that’s why 3M took scotch guard off the market.”


Bowerman worries that monitoring efforts will slack off when
bald eagles are off the Endangered Species list, and that new
contaminants will be missed. But he can’t help being inspired
by the birds’ recovery:


“Does it make you any more alive to watch that beautiful
eagle soaring around? And it’s really neat to see how many
there are now. So this is just spectacular.”


For the Environment Report, I’m Bob Allen.

Related Links

Looking Back on the “Slick of ’76”

  • Officials placed containment booms around the barge. Most of them failed to prevent the oil from floating downriver, contaminating dozens of miles of pristine shoreline. (Courtesy of the NY State Dept. of Conservation)

30 years ago, an oil barge ran aground in the St. Lawrence River. Hundreds of thousands of gallons of thick crude oil coated the shoreline of northern New York state. The accident remains one of the largest inland oil spills in the United States. It’s a reminder that freighters haul millions of gallons of toxic liquids across the Great Lakes. And many people worry about another spill. The GLRC’s David Sommerstein talked to witnesses of the 1976 spill:

Transcript

30 years ago, an oil barge ran aground in the St. Lawrence River. Hundreds
of thousands of gallons of thick crude oil coated the shoreline of northern New
York State. The accident remains one of the largest inland oil spills in the
United States. It’s a reminder that freighters haul millions of gallons of toxic
liquids across the Great Lakes. And many people worry about another spill.
The GLRC’s David Sommerstein talked to witnesses of the 1976 spill:


It was really foggy that morning. Bob Smith awoke to two sounds:


“You could hear the anchor chains going down, and next thing we know
there was a young Coast Guard guy knocking on the front door.”


The Coast Guard guy had driven up, asking around for a missing barge.
Smith remembered the anchor chains echoing across the water that woke
him up. He went outside to look.


(Sound of walking outside)


Thirty years later, Smith lives amidst cozy cottages on manicured lawns in
the heart of the touristy Thousand Islands.


“Just right about straight out there. See where that boat’s coming up there
now?”


That’s where a barge carrying oil from Venezuela had dropped anchor after
running aground. That morning Smith watched crude as thick as mud drift
out of sight downriver:


“If you’re born and raised here on the river, you don’t like to see anything go
in the river that doesn’t belong there.”


The Coast Guard placed booms in the water, but the oil quickly spilled over.
It carried 50 miles downstream. It oozed as far as 15 feet into the river’s
marshes. Tom Brown was the point man for New York’s Department of
Environmental Conservation. He says the spill couldn’t have come at a
worse time for wildlife:


“All the young fish, waterfowl, shorebirds, furbearers, were coming off the
nests and were being born.”


Thousands of birds and fish suffocated in black goo. As images of
devastation flashed on national TV, the spill killed the tourism season, too.
It was a summer with no swimming, no fishing, no dipping your feet in the
water at sunset. Really, it was a summer with no river.


(Sound of river at Chalk’s dock)


30 years later, everyone still remembers the acrid smell:


“When I woke up in the middle of the night and I could smell oil, I was
afraid I had an oil leak in my house.”


Dwayne Chalk’s family has owned a marina on the St. Lawrence for
generations. Chalk points to a black stripe of oil on his docks, still there
three decades later, and he’s still bitter:


“The Seaway has done this area, well, I shouldn’t say that, it hasn’t done any
good. To me it hasn’t.”


The St. Lawrence Seaway opened the ports of the Great Lakes to Atlantic
Ocean freighters carrying cargoes of steel, ore, and liquid chemicals. It
generates billions of dollars a year in commerce, but it’s also brought
pollution and invasive species.


Anthropologist John Omohundro studied the social effects of the 1976 oil
spill. He says it helped awaken environmentalism in the Great Lakes:


“The spill actually raised people’s consciousness that the river could be a
problem in a number of areas, not just oil.”


Groups like Save the River and Great Lakes United began lobbying for
cleaner water and safer navigation in the years after the spill:


“If a vessel carrying oil or oil products were in that same type of ship today,
it would not be allowed in.”


Albert Jacquez is the outgoing administrator for the US side of the St. Lawrence
Seaway. The 1976 barge had one hull and gushed oil when it hit the rocks.
Today’s barges are mostly double-hulled and use computerized navigation.
Jacquez says a lot has changed to prevent spills:


“The ships themselves are different, the regulations that they have to follow are
different, and the inspections are different. Now does that guarantee? Well,
there are no guarantees, period.”


So if there is a spill, the government requires response plans for every part of
the Great Lakes. Ralph Kring leads training simulations of those plans for
the Coast Guard in Buffalo. Still, he says the real thing is different:


“You really can’t control the weather and the currents and all that. It’s definitely going to be a
challenge, especially when you’re dealing with a real live incident where
everyone’s trying to move as fast as they can and also as efficient as they
can.”


Critics question the ability to get responders to remote areas in time. They
also worry about spills in icy conditions and chemical spills that oil booms
wouldn’t contain.


(Sound of river water)


Back on the St. Lawrence River, Dwayne Chalk says the oil spill of 1976
has taught him it’s not if, it’s when, the next big spill occurs:


“You think about it all the time. Everytime a ship comes up through here,
you think what’s going to happen if that ship hits something.”


Chalk and everyone else who relies on the Great Lakes hope they’ll never
have to find out.


For the GLRC, I’m David Sommerstein.

Related Links

Artist Teaches Kids Environmental Awareness

  • Gijsbert van Frankenhuysen helps kids not only appreciate art, but nature as well. (Photo by Chris McCarus)

A children’s book illustrator is taking his art to schools around the region. Through his illustrations, he’s teaching students about respecting the environment. But they also get excited about learning in general. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Chris McCarus reports:

Transcript

A children’s book illustrator is taking his art to schools
around the region. Through his illustrations, he’s teaching students
about respecting the environment. But they also get excited about
learning in general. The Great Lakes Radio Consortium’s Chris McCarus
reports:


30 children are sitting on the floor with sketch pads in their elementary school classroom. They’re watching artist Gijsbert van Frankenhuysen. He’s standing at an easel, drawing animal shapes.


(Sound of magic marker)


“So we’re gonna make an oval shape right here, with 2 ears on it. And then you can color it black and you give him 4 short black legs. Make sure you make em black. That’s what they have. Look at that. One sheep.”


The children look up at the easel, then back down at their sketch pads, then up at the easel again. They’re comparing drawings to see whose come closest to the artist’s drawing, and they want Van Frankenhuysen to show them how to add body parts to the sheep.


“What do you want me to show?”


“Tails!”


“Hooves!”


Van Frankenhuysen has spent the whole day at this school.


(Sound of applause)


He gets this kind of response everywhere he goes, and he visits about a hundred schools a year. This student, Emily has just seen, step by step, how the artist turned blank pages into the beginnings of a book. He’s already illustrated childrens favorites like Adopted by an Owl, the Legend of Sleeping Bear and 16 other books.


Child: “I learned about aminals.”


McCarus: “What about them?”


Child: “That they’re cool to make.”


McCarus: “Do you ever see any of the animals out in nature outside?”


Child: “I see horses and cows and owls at night. And I hear ’em by my house.”


(Sound of sheep)


Back at his home on a farm in central Michigan, Van Frankenhuysen’s wife Robin walks through the barnyard past the sheep and horse the artist uses for painting. She roams the property trying to call him in to the house for dinner.


(Sound of whistling)


But he doesn’t hear her. Since they bought this farm 25 years ago they planted thousands of trees and made 3 ponds. There are lots of places to hide. But it’s not like the couple is trying to get away from people and be alone in nature. They’re happy putting them into one big mix.


It wasn’t until a couple days later that we finally caught up with van Frankenhuysen. He doesn’t miss the chance to show kids the wonders of nature. He says learning about it can make classroom lessons easy.


“I have boys, young boys, that normally don’t do any journaling, because they thing it’s for girls. And then they see what I do. And I write down the stuff that happens on the land. If I find a birdnest, I make a drawing of it, I put it in my book, I write it in. A deer, a fox, anything that I see. And now those stories are kind of turning in to books that we sell. And I’ve had several kids that now they’re doing it. And I don’t know if in the back of their mind, they’re thinking maybe I can make a book out of this when I grow up. It doesn’t matter! They’re paying attention. They’re writing this stuff down. I think it’s all good stuff.”


Many states are cutting education budgets. Often art is the first program to go. But state education association spokeswoman Margaret Trimer-Hartley says parents demand art. Learning it creates interest in science, literature and even math. She says van Frankenhuysen makes children better students overall. He supplements what regular teachers might not be able to provide.


“His work has given all of us an appreciation for nature and the flora and the fauna around us. Now his lessons can give us all a greater appreciation for the issues of conservation and protection of that environment.”


The warm, playful illustrations in his books touch both children and parents. In person, van Frankenhuysen is just as disarming. He’s modest when he explains why he goes into classrooms to teach kids to draw year after year.


“It’s the only thing I know how to do. I don’t know anything else. It’s painting. It’s fun.”


It really isn’t the only thing he knows how to do. His drawings are just the beginning. The trick he’s mastered is to get kids to start thinking about themselves and their environment.


For the GLRC, I’m Chris McCarus.