THE ARIZONA MEXICO CONNECTION

 

 

By Mary Schultz

 

   Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula is home to North America’s only mainland flock of flamingos. It appeared on this February morning that all 25,000—the entire population—were feasting in the shallow waters of Celestún.

   Celestún is an easy day trip from Merida, about 60 miles west by of Mexico 25 and Mexico 218. The town is situated on a narrow land spit between the Rio Esperanza and the Gulf of Mexico.

   Breezes out of the west often provide a welcome cooling effect. The same breezes can make beachgoing here unpleasant. However, most visitors come to Celestún for its renowned bird sanctuary. While the area is home to myriad of bird species, including anhinga and egrets, it’s the broad carpet of festively pink flamingoes that draws the most attention.

   Of the four flamingo species in the Western Hemisphere, by far the brightest is the coastal dwelling Caribbean flamingo. These amazing creatures are to be found at Celestún and a handful of islands in the Caribbean. And when it comes to the spectacle of sheer numbers, Celestún is the place.

   We arrived at Celestún in the morning, having heard that the winds tend to kick up smartly in the afternoons. As it was, our morning brought light rain and breezes. At the bridge on the highway about a kilometer east of town, we encountered row after row of boats, each one outfitted with a motor and twin poles-handier than a motor in sandy shallows. It became evident as we talked with the various available tour operators that prices were the same across the board, and there would be no negotiating. We paid on a per-boat basis, but the cost of a tour that was an hour and a half amounted to about $8 U.S. per person, surely an amount that wasn't at all outrageous, given what we'd come to witness.

 

   And witness we did. Our guide glided the boat into one huge lagoon after another, where thousands of the birds fed. Apparently, a single flock sifting and zigzagging their upside-down beaks can stir up enough silt to create channels of mud extending miles downstream. No wonder the water was a murky brown. Then, even though our pilot took utmost care to steer away from the feeding birds, a few took flight. The sound of the rush of those huge wings right over our heads was unearthly. It was as if we'd been teleported back in time to some primeval jungle where human beings didn't matter and didn't belong. That is the magic of Celestún.

   The magic has endured moments of danger. Four decades ago, biologists began to observe something alarming. Flamingos were disappearing from their traditional nesting colonies. The first thorough census of the Caribbean flamingo's populations confirmed the scientists' suspicions. Only four regular nesting colonies remained, and the future of those was in question.

   A new era of raised environmental consciousness has extended to the flamingos of Celestún. In just 20 years, the Mexican population of these magnificent birds has increased, from a low of 6,000 to 25,000. But they're not out of the woods, so to speak, just yet. That's because while flamingos are surprisingly tough on one hand, they are mysteriously vulnerable on another. The Celestún birds, for example, are apparently able to withstand summertime high temperatures of 110 degrees Fahrenheit.

   But they're also skittish, highly sensitive to all manner of disturbances. While flamingos obviously enjoy the company of other flamingos, they have traditionally thrived in remote, inaccessible areas. With the advent of resort development and human population settlement, the same areas that were once inaccessible are becoming peopled. Nesting grounds are simply getting harder to find. Add to this the phenomenon of jet skis and small planes swooping down for a look, and it's easy to see how disruptive the world has become for the flamingos of the Yucatan. Additionally, problems related to water drainage as a result of land development can change natural water flows and disrupt the nutrient cycling. This alone can cause flamingos to abandon an area.

   Something in the flamingo's nature also contributes to the bird's vulnerability. They are puzzlingly nomadic. They tend to move from site to site, seemingly in response to the wet-dry cycles of the hyper-saline waters they seek. In the past, the Flamingos of Celestún used to migrate each year. Rio Lagartos was their hyper-saline nesting ground, while brackish Celestún waters served as their winter feeding grounds. Hurricane Gilbert in 1988 initiated a change. Since then, the birds have moved their nesting colony twice. It's as if they're in search for the perfect new neighborhood.

   Visitors who thrill to the feeding flamingos can contribute to their survival or their demise. It's estimated that currently 12,000 tourists flock to Celestún in a year. There have been reports of flamingo fans offering tour guides tips to pilot boats straight into the flocks, forcing the birds into flight. While we have also heard tales of tour boat operators who fire bottle rockets into flocks when they gather by the docks, to discourage tourists from watching them without paying for a boat ride, this was not our experience.

   We observed that most of the citizens of Celestún take a special pride in their flamingos, and that the majority of tour operators treat the resident flamingos with great respect. This isn't only an ecologically sound policy. It also makes good economic sense. If tourists endanger the flamingos' feeding ritual, the flocks will undoubtedly alight elsewhere. On the other hand, responsible visitors bring their keen interest and tourism dollars to Celestún.

   And what they receive in return is a natural spectacle unduplicated in the Western Hemisphere. Thousands upon thousands of flamingos at every stage of development, from the pale immature birds to the startlingly pink adults, congregating, twisting, gulping, preening and soaring with a rush of purposeful wings into exquisite pink flight.