COLUMN: These local birds prey differently

The osprey’s intent is plain to see,

As it quietly perches on a bare-branched tree.

Its eyes locked, still, on the water’s plain

Like reading a menu through a wind-blown rain.

Its practiced routine of flap and hover,

Reveals at last, the fish-es cover.

Its high-speed plunge takes just a blink,

And its taloned weapons into it — sink.

The pinioned prey lies fore and aft

To provide her chicks with their repast.

VENICE — My bike rides along the Venice Waterway Park Trail and Harbor Drive take me to places where ospreys, anhingas and brown pelicans feed.

Each bird has a unique way of preying in our coastal waters.

Humans are consumers and animals are predators. We have an attitude when defining our eating habits. Predator is a special monicker set aside for the stalking lion, the diving osprey the silent shark.

The human, with an array of weapons, pitting human skills against nature’s big game, is not a predator, but a hunter. A bit of semantics at play.

The Osprey

The osprey, aka fish hawk, is a large bird of prey, hence predator. Ospreys mate for life. You may see an osprey and think eagle until you glimpse its white breast and brown tail feathers.

Unlike the eagle, which prefers live trees in which to build its nest, the osprey seems to prefer tall light standards, navigational markers, and snags (dead trees).

The osprey pair often returns to the same nest. The nest gets a new layer of materials to hold the eggs and the resulting two or three young. Over the next two months, mom and dad offer non-stop prey delivery — fish, snakes and frogs.

The young chicks begin to move around the nest, flapping their wings to obtain the best position to claim their share of the ever-changing menu. The wings get stronger and flap furiously, mimicking their parents but still without leaving the nest.

But, one day, they take their first step — or should I say first flight — to a branch several feet away. They begin to get the hang of flying, but will call the nest home for another two months until they have learned to prey on their own.

The osprey makes lazy glides, interspersed with quick flaps, usually into the wind to stay aloft. Then, the pattern is interrupted. The wings do a series of flaps, back and forth, to hold position.

The head is tilted downward — target acquired. Talons and eyes are on auto pilot. The bird drops out of the sky in its classic bent-wing form, talons extended.

It hits the water, and in the blink of your eye, the talons have grasped the prey.

The wings beat furiously as the osprey ascends, adjusts its prey “fore and aft,” always fore and aft, and then heads to a branch to enjoy brunch or a fast delivery to the hungry chicks.

The Anhinga

The anhinga is most noticed on a fence or branch with outstretched wings open to the breeze. It is also known as the snake bird because it swims with its body submerged while stretching its long head and neck above the surface, snakelike. It tends to be a freshwater fisher in quiet, open waters.

Unlike the osprey, the anhinga swims underwater for its prey. The anhinga’s feathers take on water, giving them neutral buoyancy and enabling them to stay submerged to stalk their prey.

Its long neck has special muscles that let it spring forward, spearing a fish on its flank. Its eyes are directly behind the bill, giving the anhinga a bird’s-eye view of its target.

After its submarine cruising, it tosses its catch in the air and swallows it headfirst. Now waterlogged, it must fly to the nearest sunny or windy location until its feathers dry.

Finally dry, it is an excellent soarer, seeking its next food source.

The Brown Pelican

On land, the pelican seems a clumsy clown. Airborne, in squadrons, their gregariously, choreographed dance is mesmerizing.

The brown pelican’s wingtips avoid the waves by millimeters! What are they doing in that long line? Flying behind one another allows them to take advantage of patterns of airflow around their wings when close to a surface, reducing energy requirements while they fly — always on the lookout for their next meal.

The brown pelican is not a diver like the osprey. It is a plunger. It plunges because the force of its impact stuns small fish. If we plunged like that, we would have broken ribs or a broken neck.

The pelican has air sacks in the front of its body that serve as air bags. Before it dives, it takes a deep breath to fill those sacks and closes its eyes as it hits the water.

It opens its mouth after it hits the water to net the stunned fish. Its net is the gular pouch, which can collect up to three gallons of water. Before it swallows its prey and flies, it closes its bill, squeezes the gular pouch against its chest, driving out the water between the opening in its closed bill — all in 15 seconds.

And then, it does it all over again, many times, to obtain the four pounds of food it needs daily.

There is a myth that pelicans, as they age, go blind because of their smash and grab technique. Not so, they close their eyes as they hit the water.

The greatest cause of death among pelicans is starvation as a result of poor preying or insufficient fish.

Anhingas and brown pelicans share rookery space. It is not unusual for them to occupy the same mangrove rookery site. The rookery is in constant motion as moms and dads deliver food to the ravenous chicks.

It is messy because the chicks are not toilet trained. And it is loud as the chicks find that the squeaky squawk gets the food.

The osprey uses its talons like hooks, the anhinga its bill as a spear, the brown pelican its open mouth as a net.

Perhaps we learned our fishing techniques from them?