MIND YOUR PLACE

All pilots should know to never fly directly under any bird, because its first defensive instinct is to dive.  It’s a courtesy easy enough to observe in most cases, but of course there are exceptions to nearly everything.I was giving a double ride here at Crystal one day, happy couple squoze in back, when we sighted a squadron of pelicans soaring along their migratory route. (Yes, squadron is the collective noun for pelicans.) These huge water birds soar across our section of the Mojave each year, heading NW in spring and SE in autumn and marking lines of lift the whole way.  Glistening white with black wingtips, they have a span of nearly 10 feet, and can weigh over 20 pounds. Whether singly or in the hundreds, these creatures are the definition of magnificent!  For reasons only they might understand, we never see them in the mountains...I know also not to chase flocking birds, because they’re on a tight budget and can’t afford to waste time and energy breaking formation to run from us. Far better from every perspective to simply follow along at a respectful distance, letting them mark lift and enjoying the show. This time though there was an individual pelican flying off to one side alone. Wanting a better look, I tried to stay up level with it but was unable to, so as we drew close I cracked spoilers to give the big bird plenty of room below. Twenty feet ought to be enough, I thought.The feathered span ahead seemed to fill the sky – and then we saw just how maneuverable even a giant bird can be. In half a second the pelican contracted its wings, rolled into a split-S and, from inverted position dove toward us. It seemed for a moment we’d have pelican draped all over our nose and leading edges, but before I could respond in any way it had shot from above to below so viscerally close that we actually felt its tail brush our wheel!Horrified that the bird may have been injured, I snapped a turn to look for it. It learned something from this episode too, as we next saw it flapping robustly to form back up with its mates and regain the security of numbers. If I knew how to squawk pelican I'd have apologized profusely, but felt fortunate just to fall away embarrassed.Soaring with birds is a sacred privilege and we need to remember that it’s their sky, not ours. To them we're an anomaly, intruders at best. We must be careful not to act as invaders.