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Feather Fund Makes Another Dream Come True

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THE BOOMERANG COLT

By Sonora Hannah

I would like to dedicate this, my first published work, to God, my Heavenly Father, and to my mother, Genna, and my Aunt Laure… because without them, this story never could have happened.

“I believe that in the moment God created me, He put in my soul a love and a passion for horses. It is something I was born with… a part of me that has always existed, even before I discovered it was there.”

Sonora Hannah

When I sent my application to the Feather Fund in the spring of 2010, I pretty much felt sick to my stomach. I thought that after I sent it, I’d finally be able to stop thinking about it and get some relief from the rollercoaster of emotions I’d been living with for months. That turned out to be wishful thinking because now that I didn’t have the application to work on, all I had were my thoughts.

 What made the waiting worse was that I had already applied to the Feather Fund the year before and remembered the pain of disappointment that had plagued me when I did not win. I was determined to shield myself from that kind of disappointment so to protect myself, I chose to believe in the improbability of my winning a foal. But despite everything, I kept hoping that the odds of my winning might not be so slim after all. I dreamed night and day about what it would be like to raise and train a wild Chincoteague Pony foal from the windswept island of Assateague.

 I had told the Feather Fund in my essay, “I look at all of the people around me who have their own horses; they have a chance to grow together and become permanently bonded in spirit. Sometimes I wonder if they realize just how blessed they are. My heart aches with the desire to have that strong bond of love, trust, and friendship that comes from having traveled a long road together; my heart yearns to start out on the road that will earn me the love, trust, and friendship of one special horse… my horse.”

Mid-May came… the time when I was to find out if I was or was not going to embark on that road. I checked the Feather Fund’s website daily and I tended to get rather nervous when the phone rang. But no news came either on the website or by phone. I was discouraged, but at the same time hopeful. If no winners had been posted, maybe that still meant I had a chance! Even though I tried to tell myself I very likely would not win a foal, I couldn’t seem to really believe it. There had to be a chance for me, especially because this was the last year I would be eligible to apply because of my age. I tried not to feel defeated by that thought; I knew that if I did not win, that it must mean that God had a different plan in mind for me. I wanted to have the strength of heart to trust Him that His plan was what was best for me, and that is something I had been learning to do since the first time I had applied for a foal. In my essay I had said:

“This whole Feather Fund experience has been a lesson for me in trusting God. I want it SO very badly that there are not enough words in this world to fully express the intensity of my desire. It is a feeling so deep and strong that it can only be felt, not spoken. This I can tell you: If I should be awarded a foal it would be the answer to my heart’s prayer of many years, and I would work for all I’m worth to keep that foal healthy and happy in body, mind, and spirit for all of its life. And in return, that foal would be giving me an ongoing purpose, a reason for working and living with all of my heart, and a chance for healing in my life.

“A foal of my own would mean the WORLD and beyond to me. It would be a priceless gift that I would work hard to ever deserve. I leave you in no doubt, I hope, of the sincerity of my heart’s prayer and desire and I want you to know that I would not take ownership of a foal lightly. I have waited most my whole life for the day that the miracle of my own horse would come. My heart is bursting with love to be given away to the one little horse I may call my own.”

I told Feather Fund board member Lois Szymanki, who is now one of my dearest friends, “The day you called is the day I gave up.”

It was June 7 and I had hung onto hope for several weeks past the time when I had thought the winners would be announced. But that day something inside me snapped. My pet rabbit had gone into labor and we rushed her to the emergency room when it became apparent that she was having trouble. The vet gave me a long list of procedures they might have to perform to save Jane and any unborn babies… and it wasn’t going to be cheap. The only money I had to spend on such a big vet bill was what I had been saving back for my pony. I told the vet we’d do whatever it took to save Jane. What else could I do? I said to my mom, “I’m not getting a pony anyway.”

I was pretty shocked to hear myself admitting to it, but I figured I’d better get used to the fact that it was true… I wasn’t getting a pony.

I was in pretty low spirits when I came home that evening with a stillborn baby bunny to be buried and my dream of winning a Feather Fund foal to be buried with it. I dug a grave and lined it with ferns and other spring greenery and then came up to the house to invite my mother to come for the burial. My mom was squinting at the phone when I came in. She asked me to read the missed call for her, because she couldn’t see it very well. I took the phone and read the name on the screen. My mouth dropped and I looked up at my mom, speechless. Mom says she’ll never forget my face; she knew as soon as she looked at me who the missed caller must have been.

And so it was I went to Chincoteague Island, Virginia for Pony Penning, an event I had only ever dreamed of attending! I saw the wild ponies swim the channel from their home on Assateague Island to Chincoteague Island where the foals would be auctioned off to the public to maintain a healthy number of ponies on the wildlife refuge and to benefit the Chincoteague Volunteer Fire Company who care for the ponies all year round. The days before the swim were spent meeting my new Feather Fund family and searching the pens on Assateague for my top favorite foals to bid on at the auction. I found three I decided to keep in mind, but I really didn’t know which of them my favorite was. I had decided I wanted a filly rather than a colt, so I chose a tall liver chestnut paint filly as my number one to bid on. But nothing really felt definite in my heart, even though I had decided it in my mind.

Auction day arrived. My calm exterior belied the intensity of my nervousness. Joy and relief consumed me when my fellow 2010 Feather Fund winner placed the winning bid on the pony of her dreams. And I realized, it would be my turn next. When the liver chestnut filly I had chosen as my favorite came out into the ring, I felt a flurry of excitement, but something about it didn’t feel real, didn’t feel right. Then it was announced that this foal was to be auctioned off as a buyback, a foal which would be sold for a high price to benefit the fire company or a charity, but would be returned to Assateague Island to live wild for the rest of its days. My Feather Fund family and my mom sympathized with me when the news came over the loudspeakers. But strangely, I didn’t feel much disappointment. Instead I felt that it was a message from God saying that this filly wasn’t the one for me. There must be another one out there with my name on it, I thought.

There were only 57 foals to be sold at the 2010 auction. By foal number 52 I was beginning to fear that I wouldn’t be getting a foal at all. I looked at each foal to come out. I watched their mannerisms; I looked into their eyes, searching for some glimmer of a connection between us. I almost bid once or twice out of fear of not getting the chance to bid at all… but I couldn’t do it. Something felt empty. It felt wrong. None of the foals spoke to my heart; none felt like they could be the pony of my dreams. Then I saw him.

He was rearing, plunging against the weight of the wranglers who held him. He was lost to sight as he dragged them along, trying to escape the prison of their arms and bodies. But I had already recognized him! He was on my list of top favorites, the first of my favorites I had seen since the paint filly early on in the auction.

The flashy pinto markings against his dark red/brown coat made him easy to identify. The boomerang marking at the top of his neck on his right side were why I had dubbed him the Boomerang Colt. Excitement welled up in my heart as he was finally escorted into the ring. Before I knew it I was in a bidding war for him. Somebody else had taken a fancy to him, too. I knew in my heart I couldn’t lose him. This was it! He was the one! I only wondered why I hadn’t seen it before. The price on his head went up and up, but I was encouraged to keep bidding. I raised my feather high and finally stood up in desperation.

“Please!! Please,” I said.

The bidding slowed. Then it stopped. It was the longest few seconds of my life before the auctioneer bellowed, “SOLD!” and pointed to me.

Sold! The Feather Fund had purchased him for me for $2,500!!!

My eyes welled up with tears of joy. In disbelief I realized that my dream had just come true. In one little fleeting moment, my dream had been fulfilled for a lifetime.

Even before the Boomerang Colt had come into sight, Lois had leaned over and said to me, “I don’t know why, but I think you are going to get the Boomerang Colt.”

More than once she said it, saying she didn’t understand why, but she felt that it was so.

I wondered at it, but I was so caught up in the auction and searching over the foals that I didn’t give it too much thought. I kept thinking about the little bay and white foal with the butterfly marking on its rump.

 Interesting story: foal number 52 was this foal, but I did not recognize it. I believe that God shielded me from recognizing it because He knew that if I had, I was feeling so desperate that I very well might have taken the plunge and jumped in on the bidding. How thankful I am that I did not get either one of those foals I had chosen for myself! What God had chosen for me was better than anything I could have imagined or dreamed of. Here’s more proof that the Boomerang Colt is God’s gift to me: one of his flashy pinto markings is in the shape of my profile!! No kidding!

The Boomerang Colt’s name is now Mincaye (Min-KY-yee). People are usually pretty curious as to where that name came from and the significance of it to me. To save time explaining, I usually just tell them it is a name that comes from a tribe in Ecuador. Truth is, there is a lot more to it than that. But that is another story…

Sonora Hannah is a high school graduate with dreams of becoming a writer, artist, and horse trainer. She resides in Washington State where she cares for her menagerie of animals which include a Chincoteague pony, a Shetland sheepdog, and a Bengal-mix cat.

From Jean Bonde, Another Report on 2011 Pony Week

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Editor’s note: Jean is the spokesperson and one of the founders of the group of women that has become known as the Buyback Babes. She and her husband, Wayne, are Chincoteague Island residents. Keeping up with the ponies is her passion and her emails go out to the 50 unofficial members of the group. This year for the second time the BBBs paid the highest amount for a pony at the Chincoteague pony auction, an event attended by bidders and visitors from all over the U.S. In addition, the BBBs as individuals bought eight more ponies this year. In all, the BBBs have now purchased 10 buyback ponies. Jean’s account of the 2011 pony week events helps tell the story of this famous event, so we asked if we could include it with our own stories of the swim and auction. The BBBs get to name their buyback foals but they also give names to the other ponies so they can write about them and keep track of them. Also, for those not familiar with the whole pony routine, there are two herds, one that lives on the southern range, usually seen from a distance on the way to the Atlantic beach, and a second that lives on the northern range several miles out in the Assateague wilderness. This herd can only be seen by boat, on the tour bus run by the Chincoteague Natural History Assn., or by hikers. And there are three round ups a year, fall, spring and the July Pony Penning.

 By Jean Bonde

So starting off with the pony roundups.  I was not here for the roundups, first time in 15 years I missed them, but had a party up in Pennsylvania that I couldn’t miss, talk about being torn between the two.

But I was here for the rest of the festivities.  I didn’t hear about anything happening during the roundups, so presume they got thru them OK.  They did miss getting Witch Doctor in during the roundup but that was the best thing to happen as he is getting old and is being picked on by other stallions.  The cowboys missed a set of horses but went back and got them in as there were foals in that group. 

The walk on the beach went well.  It was probably too darn hot for many of the horses to make trouble.  They did take a few horse trouble makers right back up north and all then went pretty smooth.  One troublemaker was the 2007 young buckskin stallion  Little Tornado.  He kept stirring up the pot and causing trouble, so north he went.   I heard one story from the corrals that Surfer Dude (old stallion) was on one side of the corrals and his 2 year old son  Rip Tide was on the other side of the corrals when some of the other stallions started to pick on Rip Tide. I guess Rip Tide  hollered, and Surfer Dude, came running to  protect his son and settled it with all the other stallions.  These horses never cease to amaze me, although Surfer and Rip Tide are vying for the same mare now they are inseparatable..

The swim Wednesday went smooth although the cowboy barge that the cowboys carry their horses over on had sunk on the day they put it in the water but it was repaired in time for the swim.  If not, not sure how the cowboys would have gotten their own horses over, (they do not swim with the ponies). Ken and Ace were the first horses into the carnival grounds  This is the second time for Ace.  He thinks it’s his own show with people yelling and clapping

Thursday, auction day. At this point we really hadn’t totally firmed up on which pony (we would buy) because we usually never know how it is going to go, if our picks will be buybacks, what order they will come out for sale, etc. It all makes a difference, but we were hoping for Freckles foal.

 We asked the Pony Association if they could mark the buy-backs and they did by putting a marker around their necks so at least we knew which ones they had picked . First there were five, then there were six and then there were seven and eight designed as buy-backs. Earlier we had talked over which ones we liked the best and put them in sort of an order by want. 

The one we liked best, Freckles’ baby, was the first buy-back out in the auction and so we bought  her and we were extremely happy, picture of them above is Freckles and baby Splash of Freckles, or may be called Lil/Little Freckles or Dotti. She was the most expensive buy back in the sale, $6,700.  Next expensive foal was the foal belonging to my ET, she went for $6,500 so I will be able to watch her grow up. That was exciting. There were 69 foals sold, eight kept for buy-backs and the rest, 61, go home with hopefully loving parents. The buybacks and the young foals too young to go home, whose owners will return in October to pick them up, are at the fairgrounds. The mares are out relaxing on the refuge peacefully with no foals left to worry about until next year. Total sale for all ponies was $$93,725.

Besides a margarita night at Betsy’s on Sunday afternoon after the north pony roundup, a fantastic dinner on Tuesday night cooked by Kathy Robinson, next was the Lasagna dinner and naming the new baby, which is always our Thursday night project.  About 50 people were here for dinner but only people who put money in the pot to buy get to vote. A great time was had by all anyway. All went well and we all look forward to next year.  A whole new year and a wonder of what it holds for everyone.  

FROM AN EMAIL TO WILD PONY TALES

Now something that nobody knew was that this little freckled foal was the 4th generation of that linage that BBB’s paid for thru the years.  First buy-back was mare “Carol’s Little Freedom” purchased by BBB, Carol Smith in 1999.  Little Freedom then had buy-back daughter “Marks Island Liberty” paid for by BBB Susan Wilson Sanders in 2002. (Liberty now deceased)  We paid for  buy-back  “Freckles” in 2006, daughter of Marks Island Liberty and now we have paid for buy back “Splash of Freckles,” 2011, daughter of Freckles..How wonderful is that? 

Did you see the water spigots around the southern corrals and the fairgrounds – how wonderful it is,  I was elated to see them.  Thanks Pony Association.  So it was another great Pony Penning.  Here is to many more. 

P.S.  Kelly Lidard just released a new book of all the ponies, pictures of both sides, mares and stallions, names of all the horses that are out on the refuge as of July 2011, some names I didn’t even know about. Its $20 for each.  I will have them for Kelly here at my house so if anyone wants one while they are visiting here on Chincoteague, let me know, 336-1936.  BBB Jean.

See other stories about the BBB’s elsewhere on this website.

$6,700 Highest Bid at Chincoteague Pony Auction

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By Zackrey Hoverson

          Hands flying up, the auctioneer talking so fast it sounds like gibberish and little foals whinnying, trying to escape their wranglers. These are some of the things that stay in your memory after attending the Chincoteague Pony Auction.

          The purpose of the auction is to raise money for the Chincoteague Volunteer Fire Department, and to maintain the size of the herd that lives year-round on nearby Assateague Island. A grazing permit issued by the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge allows about 150 adult ponies to stay there.

         On Thursday, July 29, 2011, 69 foals were auctioned off , bringing in $99,500 for the fire company.

          The annual auction begins at 8 a.m. But by 6 a.m., almost and nearly all the good spots are reserved with fold out chairs, many put out the night before. Even the bleachers have towels and names taped on them reserving seats for prospective bidders and visitors. With each passing minute the auction ring and surrounding area come to life.

          While the soft drink vendors are setting up behind the seats, and various officials begin arriving, the Salt Water Cowboys and volunteers are beginning their work. The foals to be auctioned off to new owners have to be separated from their mothers. The cowboys are old hands at this operation. To the rear of the auction ring is a row of pens with a long runway in front. The ponies are herded into the runway and when a foal comes along a gate is opened. The mother usually runs on ahead while her foal is shooed into the open gate. This process is repeated until all the foals are separated from the mares who are then let out into the big corral where they and all the other ponies have spent the night.

          Bidders who have not gotten their eye on the pony they want are allowed up close enough to see the little ones as they come by.

           The actual auction is run with a simple routine that can often have hilarious moments of foals trying to be independent. Inside the fenced in auction ring the foals are  held onto by wranglers who try to move the little ones around the ring so bidders can get a good look. The wranglers are cowboys and volunteer fire company members, some middle school age sons of fire officials.

           As the foals are moved around, four spotters stand at different posts around the ring, anxiously looking for any wave of a hand that could indicate a bid. The amount of each bid is passed on to the auctioneer, on a high up platform in the middle of the ring who goes on n his cadence, trying to get a higher bid.

          During the serious business of bidding the audience is kept in a lively state by the protesting foals who try to escape their handlers. One foal just laid down and came up with a wranger’s leg across her back, and needed extra help to get her around the ring.

          Early in the auction several buy back ponies came up for sale. A buy back is a pony that can be purchased and named but is released back into the herd to maintain a healthy herd size. Each year the fire company designates a charity to get the proceeds from a buy back. This year it was the Ronald McDonald House.

          The highest bid was $6,700 for a buy back. This foal was purchased by a group known as the Buy Back Babes. The reasoning for spending so much on this particular buy back was explained by the BBB spokesperson, Jean Bonde. She said, “The foal is the fourth generation of the lineage that the BBB’s had bought throughout the years.” The purchased foal was named Splash of Freckles after its mother, Freckles, a pony the buy backs purchased back in 2006. This isn’t the first time that the BBB’s made the highest bid at the pony auction. Back in 2007, the BBB’s set the all time record by purchasing Prince, a stallion for $17,500.

          Another recurring group at the auction is the Feather Fund. The Feather Fund is a non-profit organization that assists a few children chosen by the Feather Fund board in purchasing a pony. This year 15 year old Lindsay Gieson of Johnstown, Pa. bought a pony with the aid of the Feather Fund for $2,000. Several others also purchased ponies with help from the Feather Fund.

          Every foal is sold at the auction. But those deemed too young to leave their moms by their veterinarian, Dr. Charlie Cameron, will remain at the carnival grounds with their moms until the spring roundup.

Zackrey Hoverson, a senior at Nandua High School, has been a staff writer and photographer for Wild Pony Tales for five years.

 

Naturalist: Details Count When Watching Birds

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By Betsy Muente

Many types of ducks feed with tails up and heads below the water. Skimmers glide with uneven bills just below the surface of the water waiting to feel the touch of food on their bills. Osprey and eagles soar gracefully through the sky then catch their food with their powerful talons.

George Budd, Naturalist

These are some of the details about birds on the Eastern Shore presented by George Budd, a master naturalist, to an audience at the  Herbert H. Bateman Visitor Center of the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge. The “talk” is one in a series to be sponsored this year by the Chincoteague Natural History Association

The audience was shown intriguing up-close pictures of local birds in their natural habitats. Everyone’s eyes seemed glued to the screen as Mr. Budd showed his pictures and talked about how to tell one warbler from another. He played audio clips  of some birds as their pictures were shown. Other types of birds were shown and details were pointed out so we could see the differences to help us recognize Eastern Shore birds.

 Mr. Budd didn’t always have such an eye for spotting, or as he says, seeing birds. Identifying them came later.

Mr. Budd retired to the peninsula a few years ago. An interest in birds and trips into the marshes and woodlands with friends helped him see what was there but had been hidden from his eyes. More sound clips of bird calls were played showing our ears can be very helpful as well.

Mr. Budd’s interest in sharing his knowledge of Eastern shore birds with refuge visitors prompted him to become a master naturalist focusing on local birds. “Nature is just too broad a topic to not focus on a special interest,” he said. People interested in more information about master naturalists can try virginiamasternaturalist.org

While the audience viewed the array of colors, Mr. Budd pointed out differences in types of warblers, woodpeckers, waterfowl, raptures and more. “Main body color is a good start,” he said. “Look at beaks, size, body types and tail shapes. The smaller details can be key to identification.”

Look carefully at egrets, the naturalist said. The great egret, not only has its size, but also a long yellow bill and black feet. The snowy egret is smaller,  black bill, black legs with yellow feet. The cattle egret sometimes seen on the horses has patches of yellowish feathers on head, chest and beak. Beware though, because I just found out that the little blue heron has a whitish phase. Noticing details can make identification a lot of fun.

In each marvelous photo, one also saw part of the bird’s habitat. Mr. Budd joked about his property originally having lots of rose bushes which attracted Japanese beetles. As the roses died, his wife replaced them with perennials creating a new habitat. Suddenly the yard became alive with life, especially birds. He stresses being aware of what birds like to eat and other needs.

The bills are a key for what birds eat. Short and sturdy identifies seed eaters; while those with a little longer and thinner beaks are insect eaters. He began to see varieties of acrobatic woodpeckers, insect catching warblers and beautiful indigo buntings. “Plant your yard for attracting insects, such as butterflies, and/ or growing seeds.  Be patient, watch and ‘see’ what you couldn’t before.”Mr. Budd said.

 

The talk was filled with details and differences about Eastern Shore birds. Yellow rump warblers dance in the air. Great blue herons stand still or move in slow motion looking for food form such interesting curved poses. “Listening to some birds, we learned that their calls actually gave them their names,” said Mr. Budd. He admitted thinking of all gulls as sea gulls until friends pointed out differences in types of gulls and terns.   

Mr. Budd asked people to remember there’s more out there than birds. Flowers, dragonflies, frogs, butterflies and so much more are to be watched and enjoyed. Some equipment can help, he said. One of the first is a pair of binoculars. The Bateman Center has some that can be signed out at the visitor’s desk. Field guides are a must to identify new birds. Mr. Budd uses a Nikon 70x 300 zoom that he got free for points. He likes the smaller lens for mobility. He suggests that a big money investment isn’t necessary especially to start.

The history association sponsors events and activities promote a better understanding and appreciation of the Chincoteague refuge. The association may be reached at www.cnha@verizon.net or 757 336-3696. The association website is www.piping-plover.org.

Betsy Muente is a staff writer for Wild Pony Tales.

Ducks Swim Into Traps But Find Friendly Captors

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By Sarah Taylor and Robert Boswell

If you were one of the black ducks that stops over for rest in the winter at the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge you might find a welcome meal of corn waiting for you along one of the waterways.  No problem getting to it, just swim through an open space in some wire and there it is.

But guess what. You have just been trapped. That open space you swam through to get to the corn only goes one way. You cannot swim back out.

You will, however, get to help from the biologists at the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge who are trying to learn more about black ducks. Chances are you will be taken out of the trap, a big wire cage, the next morning and cuddled safely in someone’s arms. You will be written up in a special record book. Then you might have a small metal band carefully attached to one of your legs before you can fly away to another spot on the refuge, to wait for spring and the long journey north to feeding grounds in Canada.

We got a ride out to the duck catching area from Janelle Walters, a biological science technician at the refuge. She took us on the service road that runs nearly eight miles out into the northern part of the refuge. On the way we saw the famous ponies, egrets and other birds, and even a baby box turtle.

On the way out Ms. Walters explained that capturing the black ducks helps keep track of their population within the salt marshes of Assateague Island. “The grasses in the salt marshes are very critical habitat for black ducks to feed and rest during their migration,” she said. “We capture them to gather scientific data,” said Ms. Walters.

On the day we were along with her we didn’t actually see any ducks. She said they had stopped coming the week before, near the end of the catching time, March 20. But she showed us how the whole process works.

To band the ducks they first have to catch them. So they build big cages out of wire and metal. The cages are made so the ducks can get inside but can’t get out until they are taken out.  The cage is placed in shallow water and the biologists then trick the ducks to come in by adding  corn as bait.

The bait the biologist use to capture the black ducks will catch the duck’s eyes and, while the duck is swimming. it will go to the corn which is inside the cage. Soon other ducks swim in and all of them will become part of the research. 

Traps, she said, are baited either very early in the morning or late in the afternoon. Either way the biologists show up within hours. Ms. Walters showed how they can close the top part of the trap and lift it by a handle out of the water onto a nearby location on land. Then, one by one, the ducks can be taken out and calmed by cradling them. “They really calm down once you are holding them. They feel relaxed.”

The tools and record books used by the biologists are kept in a backpack, including a string of metal bands.  The first job, said Ms. Walters, is find out if you have a “clean” duck. This is a duck that has not already been banded. Next they check their sex, age and if they are  healthy.

  Then, using a special tool called a crimper, they open the right size band and place it on a duck’s leg. The crimper is set to allow just the right pressure to close the band without injuring the duck.

Ms. Walter said they work in teams. They double check each action, calling out, for example, “Putting on band 56.” Each band has a unique number.

She said the information collected is used by a lot of people. “Migratory information is really important,” she said.

Black duck banding also takes place on Fisherman’s Island on the lower part of the Eastern Shore. Wildlife specialists from the state also help out with banding on the Assateague refuge.

Kevin Holcomb, the supervisory wildlife biologist, told about another way of catching ducks. The wire cage is called a “confusion trap” but they also use “rocket traps.” With this method ducks go to the bait and then small rockets are fired which carry a net over the ducks.

Mr. Holcomb said other bird banding takes place on Assateague. He said Dick Roberts has been catching and banding small birds for years. “He has a wealth of knowledge and is a volunteer not affiliated with the state.”

All of the information collected by Mr. Roberts and by the refuge biologists is sent to the Bird Banding Laboratory in Laurel, Maryland.

Sarah is a 5th grade student at Kegotank Elementary School near Chincoteague Island and Mr. Boswell is publisher of Wild Pony Tales.

BLACK DUCK FACTS:

·       The Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge is on the Atlantic Flyway, the main north-south migration route for birds.

·       The first record of a metal band attached to a bird’s leg was about 1595 when one of Henry IV’s banded Peregrine Falcons was lost in pursuit of a bustard, a large bird, in France. The falcon showed up 24 hours later 1350 miles away.

·       In 1899 a Danish school teacher, Hans Mortensen, began placing aluminum rings on the legs of European teal, pintail, white storks, starlings and hawks. He wrote his name and address on the bands in hopes they would be returned to him. His system of banding became the model for banding done by biologists today.

·       Between 1909 and 1939 a pioneer in bird banding,  Jack Miner,  established a waterfowl sanctuary in Ontario, Canada and banded 20,000 Canada Geese. Many bands were returned to him by hunters.

·       The North American banding program grew out of work by the Bureau of Biological Survey and Canadian Wildlife Service. Bird banding data from North America is now sent to the Bird Banding Laboratory in Laurel, Maryland.

·       Banding research has revealed that some species of birds go south in one pathway and return north by another pathway.

·       The Arctic Tern makes the longest migration flight of any living species, making an annual round trip of 25,000 miles.

·       Bird banding allows researchers to reconstruct the movements of the individual bird.