Double-crested cormorants faced the challenge of becoming “overabundant.” Their numbers were so low for so long that more than one human generation grew up never seeing large gatherings of cormorants, either at their northern breeding grounds or favorite southern wintering quarters. When cormorant numbers rebounded after DDT was finally banned in 1972, fishermen, politicians and even bird watchers were astonished at their numbers. And for some, even though cormorant populations were probably still below their historic highs, the bird’s large flocks were seen as “out of control” and the birds were eating too many fish. So they, meaning catfish farmers, fishermen, and government technicians, shot them – by the tens of thousands. The remains of the birds were usually composted onsite or elsewhere since the meat is inedible. A cruel, terrible waste of food chain energy and biomass.
Now it is the Sandhill Crane, Grus canadensis, that comes under the gun as an “out-of-control” species. After decades of conservation efforts in many locations to protect thinning numbers of rare sandhill cranes, threatened due to overhunting in the 1930s, conventional wisdom now turns to lethal measures to control a perceived overabundance. The evolutionary line of cranes goes back about 10 million years, with distinct sandhill crane ancestors appearing about 2.5 million years ago. Like cormorants, there are several subspecies of sandhills, but unlike cormorants some are rare or endangered.
Sandhill cranes, typically do not deal with fish in their diets, so they’re not in competition with fishermen or fish farmers. The cranes are basically opportunistic herbivores, living off whatever plants or seeds are available, so they can manage to find food in drier upland areas as well as shallow wetlands. Sandhill cranes dine on wild berries, seeds of many kinds, and when the possibility presents itself, small mammals, reptiles, amphibians, and invertebrates such as snails and insects. What actually brings them into conflict with man, farmers in particular, is their decided taste for cultivated foods such as corn and wheat. Sandhills frequently target recently planted corn and wheat fields, much like cormorants raid the densely stocked catfish ponds in the South in search of an easy meal.
To protect their fields, farmers in Wisconsin are requesting the creation of legal hunting seasons for sandhill cranes. More than a dozen states, with more in the offing, have established seasons, bag limits and takes for this once rare bird. Unlike cormorants, however, the flesh of sandhill cranes is edible and is reported by hunters to taste much like pork chops, so the birds are not merely killed, but also consumed.
Regardless of whether the carcasses are destined for the compost or the dinner table, it seems, at best, inefficient to spend decades reviving a rare, threatened species only to turn around and put it in hunters’ sights. What is really ignored here is the questioning of why the birds feed at agricultural sites rather than at open upland ranges or food-rich shallow wetlands. The one-word answer is habitat. Every day more and more open land is taken out of the natural food chain and converted from prairie or open range or upland habitat or wetland to real estate – development or reclamation projects, leaving wildlife without a natural home, driving it into conflict with humans.
In science fiction literature and physics thought experiments it’s common to postulate what happens when human subjects are locked in suspended animation and time goes on without them. When they awaken the world has changed and there is no place for them in the future. The return of nearly-extinct species sometimes falls into this type of scenario. There often comes a point when threatened wildlife species regain some of their original stature, attempt to re-colonize former territories and expand into new ones, but during the decades of their absence people forgot what they were, how plentiful their numbers had been, and their place in the ecosystem. In that future the returning wildlife has lost its claim to respectable habitat and moves into territory appropriated by humans in its absence, setting the stage once again for lethal control measures of “overabundant” species, even the ones that taste like pork.
My book The Double-Crested Cormorant: Symbol of Ecological Conflict is now available in a hardcover version at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com and the University of Michigan Press, www.press.umich.edu which also offers an E-book edition. Also, check your local booksellers for availability.
For insights into the book, log on to my Author Page at Amazon at www.amazon.com/author/dennis-wild.
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