Aztec Gold

Friday, November 25, 2005

The Great Escapes

I once tried going on a detox diet (it was a mistake and one that shall never be repeated, I can assure you). I could handle the loss of dairy goods (replaced by some form of bean extract) and the loss of bread (replaced by some form of cardboard). It was the lack of sugar that drove me mad. I don't eat a lot of junk food mind you, it's just that even the "healthy" foods in the Western World seem to be loaded with sugar. I had cravings: no matter how much bean curd and cardboard I ate I always needed something more. I was grumpy too, unapproachable and liable to snap. I was like a smoker on patches, a junkie needing a hit. It was a tough two weeks.

It was no surprise to me then that by taking the bears off a pure diet of sugar-rich fruit and putting them onto what is basically the brussel sprouts of the bush (i.e. bamboo and bromeliads), I would end up with some pretty unhappy customers. Pissing off a bear is not something I recommend doing. Sure they might look cute and cuddly but get on the wrong side of them and they'll happily tear you a new arsehole. Fortunately I was on the outside of the cage (most of the time) so the bears had to make do with trying to tear each other apart instead. They jostled restlessly with each other constantly and when the food, with an ever decreasing fruit content, was put in the cage they were unable to decide between trying to scoff it down as fast as they could or fighting with each other over it.

All the boys were out of sorts, but Beto took it the hardest. He went from being a happy, go-lucky bear (probably from all that wanking) to an angry, vengeful demon looking to vent his rage on anything that moved. He was mid-puberty as well and going through a growth spurt so I really can't hold it against him. I did try to introduce the change as gradually as possible but I had only four weeks to work with, and Rosita, being smaller and more experienced, was much quicker to adapt than the boys. Since she was the only one going out for the release she was setting the pace of the rehab and the boys were forced to tough it out.

I'm sure it was Beto that master-minded the escapes. He was always just that little bit more cunning than the other boys. I'm sure it was he that led the others astray. I'm in Quito when they escape the first time. I'd gone in for just a couple of days to do some work on the web page that needed Internet access. I arrive back at Santa Martha to discover that they've dug away a solid chunk of earth just near the door. The resulting hole is not much bigger than the entrance to a rabbit borough but somehow all four bears have managed to squeeze through.

Once again the volunteers manage to get them back in the cage. Hunger, the cause of the problems in the first place, also provides the solution. The male bears are found down in the pen of the Galapagos Tortoises gulping down the mounds of fruit that these slow reptiles take a day to eat. The tortoises, though surely not happy about the invasion, are not about to stop three hungry, male bears and they are wisely hiding inside their shells when the volunteers arrive.

Using a few buckets of fruit, the boys are easily lured back into their cage. Only Rosita is not so easily conned, her hunger being far less. This is not the first time Rosita has roamed free either. A year or so earlier, in the dead of the night, poachers cut a hole in the fence and pilfered Beto. He was taken to Quito where he was undoubtedly headed for the black market. Luckily the poachers were caught by police and Beto was returned. The other big boys remained in the cage, but the more savvy Rosita found her way out through the hole left by the poachers. She wandered around the farms of Santa Martha for two weeks, living off local crops, before she was finally tranquilized and recaptured by Armando and Leonardo.

Having escaped again it was reasonable to expect that she would not be found so easily. For some unknown reason however she returned to the cage later that afternoon. Either she'd had a bad time in her previous escape or she just missed the boys. Some of the volunteers had stayed by the cage for the day just in case, and when she returned they merely opened the door, threw some fruit in and she wandered casually back in.

We repair the cage but decide to increase the amount of food that the bears are getting as well. We increase both the fruits and the forest foods in a attempt to placate them. Increasing their fruits isn't ideal, but rehabilitation would be pretty pointless if the bears all escaped and then were shot by local farmers. A compromise is used that should still have Rosita prepared for her release.

Food is suddenly not the only problem however. I am down helping the other volunteers repair a cage for some Cabeza de Muertes (ugly little animals that look a lot like stoats - the name means "Head of Death" as they sport particularly evil looking mugs) when we start hearing strange noises from the bear cage. It sounds like a couple of Wookies are having it out, with a strange mixture of purring, grunting and growling. I don't think much of it at first but a volunteer who'd gone back for some more tools tells me that two of the bears are mating.

I head up for a look and sure enough discover Gabriel humping away on top of the less than impressed Rosita, who looks somewhat bored with the whole thing. I watch them for a while at a distance unsure of the best action to take (earning me a reputation with the other volunteers as a man into bear porn). Eventually they notice me, and since I am by now, the source of all their food they quickly give up on the mating and come looking for tasty treats (well Rosita stops quickly anyway, Gabriel looks a little less pleased and I'm sure gives me some unfriendly glances).

I have fears that the release will be cancelled since a pregnant bear should probably not be drugged. After we talk with Leonardo, the vet, however it's decided to continue with the plan. This is the first time Rosita has come into heat (just my bloody luck!) and it's more than likely that the romantic intentions of the still very young Gabriel will amount to nothing. We decide to risk it, getting Rosita out into the wild where she can mate with other wild bears is even more important now.

Of course having a female in heat sharing a cage with three pubescent and hungry males does little to help the mood of my furry friends. The boys continue to wrestle and shove each other, and often one or the other loses his temper giving a loud, vicious moan that I never once heard before changing their diet. One morning I come down to find that Leo's right ear has been badly cut. None of the other bears own up to it but I guess that the increasingly aggressive Beto is the guilty party.

The lack of equipment for the earlier move of the boys into the smaller cage and the general Ecuadorian attitude towards such things has me concerned over what they are planning to use for the release of Rosita. I set myself the task of building a stretcher. Leon supplies me with some discarded wooden polls from an old cage and I buy myself some rope from the local town. Despite never having woven a thing in my life I end up with a not too shabby little stretcher. It turns out my Mum was wrong, all those hours of sleeping in hammocks, my sub-conscious mind absorbing the patterns of the interwoven rope, has served me well after all.

My stretcher gets a test run. Santa Martha has a pride of lions (taken from a circus that was keeping them illegally) and one of the older males is no longer getting on with the rest of the gang. He's targeted for removal and will spend the rest of his days in a separate cage with an inbred, slightly blind and mentally disturbed female lion (not my ideal retirement either).

The usual process is carried out: Leonardo arrives, he blows a dart into the lion, and then we have to move him. The slight complication this time is that the lion we've just darted is in a cage with three other lions and two, three-week old cubs (the result of some Ecuadorian planning, where the neutering of the male was done after the females became pregnant). As luck would have it the male, after being drugged, wanders down to where the cubs are and passes out practically on top of them. The females are not going to be too happy with us messing around down there but there's little choice.

I volunteer for the retrieval mission: the lion is damn heavy and it makes sense for us males to do the lifting (political correctness is generally ignored by all in these situations, particularly by the women). We enter the cage. Johnny goes in first, waving a stick and making a lot of noise. The rest of us follow behind with the stretcher while one more volunteer stands guard behind, keeping the path to the doorway free. Johnny, all of about five and a half feet tall, manages to put the fear of God in the cats and they lurk along the back of the cage. As we approach the cubs however, they snarl and begin to approach and Johnny quickly grabs the cubs and propels them towards the females. They are placated enough for us to get to work with Johnny on constant guard.

We load the lion onto my stretcher. He weighs a ton and four of us lifting is barely enough. I begin to have doubts about the strength of the stretcher. It was designed for a much smaller weight: none of the young bears weigh anything over 150 kilograms. This beast must way two or three times that at least. Despite my concerns the stretcher holds true and we heave the lump of muscle and fur up the hill and out the door and into his new retirement home. All the while Johnny fends off the female lions, using his stick and force of will alone.

I continue my work with the bears as the day of release draws steadily closer. The top of the bear enclosure is open and it's only the presence of electric wires running along the top and bottom of the walls that deters the bears from climbing. The bears know that these wire zap but they frequently test them anyway. At least once a week one of the boys sniffs tentatively at the wire for a while before nudging it with a wet nose. The zap they get scares the shit out of them every time and without fail they give a startled yelp before scrambling up the nearest tree.

With the rainy season well and truly settled in, blackouts become frequent. Of course there's no generator or backup power supply for the enclosure (that would be both well beyond the budget and well beyond the limits of Ecuadorian long range planning). One evening I arrive at the enclosure to find the entire length of electric wire (some 40 meters or more) torn down from the fence and being used in a game of tug war between Beto and Gabriel. After a quick check to make sure all four bears are still in the cage I run back up the hill to tell Johnny.

Johnny sends me back down to the cage with orders not to let any of the bears escape while he gathers tools and workers to repair the cage. I spend the next hour maintaining a careful vigilance over my would-be escapees. I'm armed with a sturdy length of bamboo, a mighty weapon indeed against four restless bears should they attempt a breakout.

Eventually Johnny arrives with two other helpers. It's dark by this time but we push into the bear cage anyway. Before entering we manage to get all three boys into the small feeding cage and lock them in. Johnny works his way around the fence, reattaching the wire and repairing any breaks while the other guys keep watch on the prowling Rosita, occasionally fending her off with their trusty staves.

I'm assigned guard duty for the boys. The door between the small feeding cage and the larger cage is flimsy and slides into place without any locking mechanism. Left to their own devices the bears can work out how to slide the door open and escape back into the main cage. I stand over the door rapping the paws of the boys with my staff as they pull and play at the door. Johnny's left me with an electric cattle prod but either its not working or the voltage is too low. Each time I try to zap one of the boys they end up licking the end of the prod and trying to play with it.

After two or three hours in the dark and in the rain Johnny is finally happy with the fence. He connects the power once again. I'm at the far end of the cage when this happens and, rather than walk over, Johnny yells at me to test the wire. I've only got one tool to use for this: my hand. Gingerly I tap the wire. Nothing. I yell out to Johnny and he fiddles with some more wire. Still nothing. I keep tapping my hand on the wire yelling to Johnny, "Nada ... nada ... nada ...". Finally the power kicks in, a jolt runs up my body, makes my hair stand on end and frizzles my teeth. My "nada" becomes "naaaaaaargh fuck!" and Johnny gets the confirmation that the fence is working.

After this near escape the bears are put back onto their original diet for a day while we work out a plan. Eventually Johnny comes up with a solution so simple I feel stupid for not thinking of it earlier. For each meal we lure the three boys into the smaller cage and shut the door while keeping Rosita outside. Once in the small cage we can feed the boys as much food as they can eat while Rosita is given the bamboo and bromeliads. Rosita has never liked the close confines of the small cage and keeping her out is not overly difficult. The dumber, hungrier boys go where ever we put the food.

This works well and the boys begin to calm down somewhat. They are still restless but no where near as aggressive as they have been. Despite this they still escape one last time, only two days before Rosita's planned release. It's obvious that it's more than just food that's driving them to seek freedom. The boys are coming of age and it's natural for them to want to wander. Male bears in the wild roam massive distances looking for adventure, for food, and for a little lady action. These boys need space.

The final escape is on a Saturday evening. The other volunteers have this time off, but my bears need feeding twice daily - they don't know what a weekend is and after a month of this work, neither do I. I'm up preparing their evening meal when Brenda (Johnny's wife) comes in and tells me that the bears are not in their enclosure. It's all too familiar for me to be overly concerned but this particular escape is badly timed. Armando has organized a stack of media and police officials to attend Rosita's release on the Monday. Nothing would be worse publicity for both Santa Martha and the Bear Project than Rosita not turning up for her own release party.

I rush down to the enclosure with my bucket of mashed fruit, dog biscuits and oats. Sure enough the cage is empty and there are no bears in sight. With a weary sigh I put down my bucket and begin to unlock the cage door. My plan is to leave the door open with some food in the cage while I go in search of the bears. With any luck they will wander back on their own as before.

I'm fiddling with the lock when I hear Leon's voice behind me, "you better open that cage quick mate." I turn and less than a foot away and completely blocking my escape, are the three boys all lined up around my bucket of food like pigs at a trough. Carefully I open the door and then slowly drag the bucket into the cage with the three boys following close behind. Leon follows me in and using some apples that he's brought down we manage to distract them long enough for me to empty the bucket and for us to make good our escape.

Leon's closing the door when I spot Rosita wandering up the hill. I head over to her with some apples and some of her beloved dog biscuits. She trustingly follows me back down the hill, slow step by slow step. Leon opens the door again and using his basket of apples distracts the boys so I can bring Rosita in. She hesitates on the threshold and for a moment I think she might bolt but the lure of the dog biscuits is too strong and she follows me in. Leon has the three boys almost climbing up him as they try to rip the basket out of hands but we throw the food around the cage and then dive for the door, bolting it shut behind us.

We find the escape point. This time they basically just ripped the fence out of the ground and then dug under it. It seems the bears can escape almost at will, it’s just that they've not bothered to put the effort in before now. Johnny finally agrees that it’s more than just a problem with food and makes plans to rebuild the bear cage completely in the coming weeks. In the meantime we spend another late evening fending off bears with sticks while Johnny makes repairs to the cage. This time he drapes electric wire along all the potential escape points. It's a temporary solution but should hold the bears until the repairs can be made.

While we’re repairing the cage, reports begin to trickle in from workers around the farm that several monkeys have escaped. We go to investigate and discover that the bears have been on a bit of a rampage. The roof of the Jaguarindi (like a house-sized Jaguar) cage is completely bowed from where a bear (or two) has obviously climbed up and tried to get in. Luckily the cage is still intact and the Jaguarindi is cowering in its box when we arrive. The squirrel monkey cage is in far worse shape. The bears have completely demolished this and have torn large holes in the thin mesh cage. Two of the little guys are deep in their box, shivering with fear but the rest have escaped to the nearby trees. Luckily Leon is able to recapture them all and after a quick head count we are relieved to find that all managed to avoid being eaten.

We do a quick check of the other animals and all the cages are intact. We're not sure what would have happened if the bears tried to face off against some of the big cats and we're glad we didn't get to find out. Only Annie, the Tapir, is missing but this is normal. She roams free around Santa Martha as she keeps escaping from her cage and no one can work out how. She's completely harmless and quite enjoys the company of the cows so she's generally allowed to get away with it. She has been known to hang out near the bear cage however and the bears have shown a more than friendly interest in her presence before so there's no way of knowing what happened until Annie turns up again.

The last Sunday before Rosita's release is a nervous time for all. No one will be looking too good if the press and the police turn up then next morning to find bears running lose all over the center, chewing on endangered animals. I spend the day at the cage on a quiet vigil but the bears are calm and spend most of the day snoozing (probably exhausted from their rampage on the previous day). I'm unable to sleep on Sunday night and have to get up and check on the bears every couple of hours until at five in the morning the media circus arrives and it's finally time to say goodbye to little Rosita.

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