Watching a vulture feeding frenzy in Spain is one moment Ruth Miller will never forget.
A vulture feeding frenzy proved to be a marvellous birding spectacle for Ruth Miller on a recent trip to Spain
Some flew, but mostly they came at a run. They scurried forwards across the bonestrewn ground towards us, a surging beige tidal wave of hunched shoulders and sturdy legs, bare necks stretched out in front, eager to be first at the feast. A relentless army of orcs in the Lord of the Rings, or a bargain-seeking crowd at a Harrods sale opening? I wasn’t sure which they reminded me of more, but there was something almost intimidating as this mass of hungry Griffon Vultures surged towards us, though their attention was focused solely on the food. We were in the Pyrenees in the outstanding Boumort National Nature Reserve in Catalonia, Spain at an altitude of around 2,000m and many miles from the nearest village. We’d arrived after dark the night before, and camped out under an intense inky-black sky full of stars. The clear sky meant plummeting temperatures, but early the next morning we stood meerkat-like, absorbing warmth from the rising sun, nursing hot coffee and taking in our surroundings. This was some of the most beautiful scenery I’d ever seen,
waves of grassy ridges broken up by red craggy peaks, swathes of pine trees filling the valleys, and best of all, no sign of human habitation anywhere. We jumped in our rugged 4x4 truck and trundled along a rough track to the feeding station. Here was a comfortable viewing hide looking over the dining table of the ‘vulture restaurant’. No tablecloths here, just bare ground covered with a thick layer of bones from previous feasts that crunched underfoot as we walked to the hide. As for cutlery, the diners would be bringing their own: strong feet and hooked bills perfectly designed to strip the meat from carcasses. The rangers threw food onto the ground: whole sheep carcasses from nearby farms and smaller joints of meat from a local abattoir. The vultures were waiting in the surrounding trees, attentively watching as the meat was spread on the ground and the braver, or hungrier, birds didn’t even wait for the men to leave before trying to grab some. It was like watching a game of Grandmother’s Footsteps as the birds bounced along the ground ever closer behind the men, only to retreat a few steps if the rangers suddenly turned around. They drove off and that was the cue for the
vulture spectacle to begin. Griffon Vultures continued to arrive until the entire area in front of the hide was covered with hungry birds; at least 300 vultures were feeding almost with arms’ reach, what a spectacle! Some birds went straight to the whole carcasses, which soon disappeared under a seething mass of vultures. All you could see was a ring of birds’ backs as the front ends were busily engaged in feeding, their long bare necks purposely designed for the job of reaching inside a carcass to get to the nutritious internal organs. Two birds jumped onto one carcass and fought to keep their balance as they challenged each other to the best food, wing-beating and stabbing at each other with their bills.
Tug-of-war
Other Griffon Vultures preferred to tackle the smaller joints, holding down the bone with one foot to steady it while they pulled off strips of flesh with their bills. Two birds seized the same bone and engaged in a game of tug-of-war until the more powerful bird ripped his prize away, and the loser slunk away to try another bone. Birds hissed and pecked at each other, dominant
birds battle-charged more timid ones to the edge of the feeding zone, and all around us the frenzied eating continued. Meat was only provided a couple of times a week, and these birds clearly had ravenous appetites. They were totally absorbed in feeding, breaking off only to defend their chosen breakfast, and unfazed by our presence only feet away in the hide, though they clearly knew we were there. Then a new kid arrived on the block: a juvenile Black Vulture, such an exciting sight to see. Black Vultures became extinct in the Pyrenees, owing to shooting and persecution by man, a sadly an all-toofamiliar story, but a joint project between the Spanish Government and conservation NGOS saw them being reintroduced in 2006, with the first chick being reared successfully in Boumort in 2010. Numbers seem to be on the increase, and projects like the feeding station are helping, as we saw four Black Vultures, both adults and juveniles, joining the party in front of us. They were significantly more cautious as they kept to the edge of the Griffon frenzy, but they still seemed to appreciate this free feast as they fed with gusto. Then an enormous shadow passed overhead, and we looked up to see the distinctive profile of a Lammergeier, or Bearded Vulture. This massive bird has a 3m wingspan and a long, lozenge-shaped tail, and we could clearly see every detail of this handsome creature as it soared effortlessly over the feeding station. Then a second Lammergeier or ‘bone breaker’ circled above us and we peered up at these magnificent birds. Most of the meat had been eaten and the Griffons simply rested and digested their intensive meal. Once the satiated Griffons left, we were told, the Lammergeier would come down to check over the bones; not interested in the meat, they eat the bone marrow left within. Imagine being only feet away from an impressive Lammergeier! Unfortunately, however, time was against us on this occasion and we had to leave before any Lammergeiers landed. But we left with heads and memory cards full of incredible images and firm plans to return to this wonderful part of Catalonia again.