by Kim Doner
When someone says, “Pelican,” how many people in the room shout, “Oklahoma!” I’m betting that
would be … wait, wait, don’t tell me … uhh … none?
Well, well; prepare to be surprised.
Many people think of pelicans as saltwater birds, idly paddling around the piers of Padre Island or such, and that’s not entirely wrong — these huge white birds certainly enjoy wintering in southern waters. But strangely, they are known as inland residents. They also enjoy lakes
anywhere from south Texas all the way to Canada and from west of the Mississippi to the California coast — which includes the waters of Oklahoma.
If you don’t know by now, Oklahoma is prime country for migratory birds, and pelicans are quite fond of not only flyovers but stopovers as well. These are very social birds, and they will travel in groups of as many as 50,000 or so, depending on food sources and weather. They work together too, circling schools of fish as a team to scoop up dinner in the enormous gular pouch beneath the chin.
The American white pelican holds as much as five gallons of water in the pouch, perhaps rich with fish, then tilts it head back and lets water spill out, assisting the
act by flexing muscles in the throat. Fish are swallowed whole, channeled south through the three stomachs needed to digest scales and bones.
I guess that explains a little of why these guys are so BIG.
Getting Acquainted with Pelicans
And big they are. A pelican can weigh as much as 30 pounds and boasts the second-largest wingspan in American birds — 10 feet wide, giving the California condor a run for its money.
Pelicans prefer to summer up north. Courtship and nesting happen most often in Canada, where prospective parents prefer their real estate to be islands centered in lakes — a wise choice to avoid predators.
American pelicans are quite distinct from the several other kinds found elsewhere in the world; when it’s breeding season, both sexes grow huge bumps on the top bill, also called horns. That is believed to be a sign of fertility, which triggers my curiosity if that is how hormones manifest for them as compared with acne in human teenagers (which, admittedly, is seldom seen as attractive to the opposite sex, nor does it often clear up in a few weeks like pelican bumps).
Seasonally monogamous, this species of pelican might lay one to six eggs, but only one has a shot at surviving to maturity. Often, siblings in many waterfowl families are destroyed, usually by the first hatched chick. It sounds cruel, as nature often does,
but the reality is how hard parents have to work for survival. Mom and Dad must feed themselves about four pounds of fish a day. Junior hatches, and over the next couple of months, the parents will need to catch and feed the fledgling a total of 150 pounds before it can be independent.
How many fishermen (or fisherwomen) can make that kind of claim year after year? (I’m banking that I hear crickets at this point.) So kudos to these big guys of the skies! It sounds like they can handle almost anything, but there is a COVID story I will offer about when a pelican’t.
Rescuing Storm-Tossed Pelicans
To begin with, there are storms. Then there are Oklahoma storms.
In March 2020, when the plague was sweeping through our country, pelicans were migrating north. Their annual stop? Grand Lake.
Thousands of birds were tragically hit midflight by a storm with 70 mph winds and hail the size of baseballs; they tumbled from the sky, many dying on impact. Calls came from everywhere as animal lovers scrambled to form teams despite the threat of COVID. It’s easy to forget, so let me put this in context: People were dying all over the world. We wore crummy masks. There were no vaccines. Everyone shut down and hid at home if they could.
Photo courtesy of Zach Hyatt.
These are easy facts to forget, so please remember them when you picture this: Wildlife rehabbers united with lake patrols, game wardens, boaters, and concerned volunteers. Masked, trying to limit exposure to total strangers, and keeping their fingers crossed, they scrambled over icy rocks and waded into near freezing waters to rescue as many fallen birds as possible. And I promise you — hoisting and wrapping and loading a hurt wild animal that weighs more than a toddler is no easy feat.
Working with Tulsa Zoo veterinarian Dr. Kay Backues, Wing It rehabbers Zach Hyatt and Paige Watkins spent days capturing and transporting birds, estimating that more than 200 bird carcasses were left behind. Backues administered humane treatment for the survivors. Not very many made it to release, but even so, wildlife lovers learn early on to count the successes.
Celebrating Pelicans
Although pelicans don’t stay in Oklahoma long enough to nest and hatch chicks here, their size alone — not to mention their trademark bills — has inspired plenty of welcome celebrations around the state. “Pelifans” have at least two occasions to party down over these guys, and many Oklahoma sites boast sizable populations of pelicans, relieving our waters of excess (ahem)
fish, especially in lakes with small islands. So think road trip!
At the Great Salt Plains, just north of Jet and west of Ponca City, you can stop by a weeklong celebration in September when 50 thousand birds come hang out. (Whoa! The vision of that many pelicans is mind-boggling to me.) That area of the state is fabulous for watching migratory birds, and pelicans are a great species to initiate kids because pelicans are so comical and easy to spot. Watch how the birds in a flock tuck their heads into their shoulders and flap in unison to catch the heat thermals above.
Once the family is hooked on birding, visit the 41st Pelican Festival at Wolf Creek Park in Grove on October 3–6. It will be family friendly, free, and loaded with fun stuff — live music, balloon animals, food trucks, and more.
I mean, really — if a pelican, you can too!
