Dan's Papers - June 6, 2008 - Lessons From Mute Swans And Polar Bears

It has been an enormously educational experience for me to watch the birth of the mute swans on Town Pond in East Hampton.

There she was, the mother, a 30-pound, snowy white mute swan, sitting on top of her eggs, day in and day out for the better part of two months just 50 feet from all the cars roaring by on Montauk Highway. People said it was a miracle she did that, so close to the road, without anybody bothering her. It just goes to show what respect we have for nature.

In all those months, she never moved from the giant nest of sticks in the pond upon which she sat. Through broiling sun, rain and sleet, wind and bitter cold weather, she just sat. At night, she'd let her long neck fall limp on her great feathery wings. And she'd fall asleep.

Of course, there was somebody standing guard nearby the whole time. This was the male, her mate. Should anybody come too close to her, there he was, hissing a warning. Keep coming and I strike. Whoever it would be would leave.

PLEASE STAY A SAFE DISTANCE FROM THE SWANS the small sign just 20 feet away from her read. People knew the male was not playing games.

I'd drive by twice a day. And there she'd be. Everybody else was driving by there twice a day, too. And then, the babies, five of them, hatched.

About two weeks ago, I passed the nest and there was nobody on it. I thought the worst. But further down, in the rushes along the side of the pond, there she was, sitting peacefully on the grass, her chicks next to her, and on the other side of her chicks, also sitting on the grass, her mate. He faced north. She faced south.

Any predators or humans who tried to get to the chicks would have to get past them first. With their sharp beaks, they would be a formidable enemy. As for the nest, there it was, a beautiful thing, about five feet in diameter, rising up from the pond bottom, now left without a single look back, is what I thought.

What a wondrous thing this was. All through the Hamptons, either in public view or not, these mute swans perform the same rituals as they propagate their species. You are welcome to think that love is involved. Maybe it is. In any case, they are all wired to do this.

There are a whole lot of other stories about nature in the news this past week. All of it is happening, without our help, without our approval, whether we like it or not, and whether we want it or not.

On May 16, a great Nor'easter came roaring through the East End. You may not have even noticed it. There was no rain with it, but the winds drove massive amounts of water from the ocean up into the wetlands and swamps of Peconic Bay, creating huge high tides there. Along the ocean in the Hamptons, the high tides had come earlier, and so as the storm came through, it drove the tide out with the result that tens of billions of tons of sand got clawed up by the surf and subsequently washed out to sea. On Saturday morning, as the sun came out, there was almost no sand left on the beaches at all. It was bedrock. Call Albany. Call Washington. We can't allow this to happen.

In fact, inside Peconic Bay, this storm caused a horrendous catastrophe. As many as a million and a half menhaden, a small delicate fish about five inches long, were found dead and strewn along the rocky beaches inside Peconic Bay at Flanders on Saturday morning as the tide went out. Millions more lay dead in the water, and, in decaying, they created a bright green goop in the bay, an algae goop, a richness in nutrients that was like health food for the larger fish such as striped bass and blues. Whether the storm had driven the menhaden in, or the menhaden were simply chased in by the bigger fish is not clear. But what did kill the menhaden was that so many of them were driven into such a small space in the water that they had breathed up all the oxygen in the water and suffocated from the lack of it. Scientists said on Saturday afternoon that the level of oxygen in the bay, which was normally 4.8 milligrams per liter, was down to just 1.0 milligram per liter. And so, whether you were aware of it or not, an enormous mass of these fish had become fish food for larger fish and crustaceans. On Tuesday, some fishermen reported catching striped bass of 35 pounds and more, which is something very rare this time of year.

Meanwhile, you wouldn't want to wade out into that slimy green bay to either swim or go clamming. The stuff is awful. They call it brown tide. And nobody knows how long it will last.

On the radio on Wednesday morning, I learned that scientists and environmentalists are trying to get the government to declare polar bears an endangered species. There are 50,000 of them on the polar ice cap and we know this because we have counted them. Polar bears are currently categorized as only a "threatened" species. And different rules apply for a threatened species than for an endangered species. Considering that the polar ice cap is breaking into pieces and floating off to melt in the warmer waters as they go south, and considering that occasionally polar bears are found on them, looking out forlornly as they approach their demise, it seems to be a good idea for us to change that designation.

However, the Federal Government resists. As a threatened species, the rules say the government doesn't have to do anything about the polar bears except keep a close watch on them. But if they are an ENDANGERED species, the government is required to take immediate action to protect the polar bear habitat from any harm that humans might inflict upon them.

In other words, they might have to do something about global warming, something that no good Congressman will do if they want to count on being re-elected. Take away our cars, our electricity, our oil supply, our Burger Kings and our TV remotes? I think not.

I think it is so presumptuous of us to feel that we have to shoulder the burden for the survival of any species of animals that the government bean counters decide is losing ground.

Creatures will come and go. Species will die out and new ones will be created. Honestly, I don't think there is anything we can do about any of it, although I suppose we might have a success of some kind here and there. The planet will flourish, adapt, survive and thrive.

Life on earth will be just fine. Maybe there won't be human beings anymore. But there will always be plenty of something else.

That's something anyway.

As we go to press we have learned that the Federal Government DID designate polar bears an endangered species, but ruled this is no reason to take any action to stop the polar ice cap from melting. Go figure.