Eurasian Griffon Vultures: A rare peek in the nest

Capturing wild Griffon vultures on film is no mean feat. But it can help foster a deeper appreciation and understanding of these widely misunderstood birds.

Text & Footage by Simon Littlejohn

 

While the Griffon vulture—or any vulture for that matter—may not be a typical headliner in a wildlife beauty pageant, the unique charm and importance of these birds deserves a closer look. Humans, it turns out, are hardwired to love big-eyed, fuzzy animals. We empathise with Polar bear cubs, cuddly Pandas and wet-eyed baby Seals. Vultures, on the other hand, are about as far from our hearts as the Kyper Belt is from the Earth. Yet these majestic, soaring leviathans play a vital role in maintaining a healthy balance in ecosystems.

80% of Europe’s entire population of Griffon vultures lives in Spain. Since 2003 I have had the pleasure of living in sunny Andalucia, Spain’s most southerly autonomous region. During my first forays into its numerous sierras, I began to observe the Griffons as they gracefully glided past me. The vultures and I shared a common interest. I was there to indulge my passion for climbing the high rock faces. The vultures were there because the same vertiginous habitats provide ideal nesting spots.

Filming at the Nest

With a lifelong passion for adventure and wildlife, I had long held the desire to get into the wildlife filming business. Most of all, I wanted to film Griffon vultures in their nests. Birds of prey typically nest in difficult to reach locations, and the colony that I had chosen to concentrate on, close to the historical white mountain village of Casares, was no exception. Climbing and crawling on the steep and very loose faces of the limestone Sierras was a dangerous game to play. Getting to the same locations burdened with a huge 600mm F4 Nikon telephoto lens, plus cameras, tripod and head, as well as the necessary water and food, was nothing short of a nightmare. The fact that I would be climbing and filming alone made it even more perilous.

For much of the early part of the spring breeding season, temperatures are 30+ degrees, rising to a blistering 40+ degrees as the chicks approach fledging age. For the vultures, it’s a race to beat the heat. Some nests have overhanging branches from wild fig or olive trees that offer partial shade. The winning lottery ticket is a nest in total shade 24/7, but those nests are few and far between. Eggs are laid as early as January and the chicks are in the nest for 4 months. Those who hatch late have the brutal heat of July and August to deal with. Few nests escape the searing heat. I have personally witnessed 2-month-old chicks slumped over the side of the nest hanging on by a thread, panting heavily with their little wedged tongue out. Sadly, not all make it.

Just like the vultures, I too prefer cooler conditions for filming. But in order to capture close-up footage of the chicks’ progress from the incubation stage through to fledging, I have no option but to make the climbs, whatever the temperature. In all the 10+ years I have made the ascents it never gets any easier, just hotter and more dangerous. Erosion from often torrential winter rains and winds make the Sierra a dangerous place to climb. The heavily fractured limestone is littered with all manner of deadly rocks waiting to ruin my day, ranging from pea to car-sized chunks, some of which are seemingly balanced on a knife’s edge. Add to that the wanderings of Wild Boar, Spanish Ibex, domestic goats and introduced Mouflon, who dislodge material and send it cascading down the slopes and into the forest below. There is never a dull moment filming the vultures. Never.

I hope one day to capture footage of 4-month-old chicks standing on the edge of the nest, flapping frantically with their 2.5m wings, in preparation for their inaugural flight. Once the chicks take that first leap they are free to fly far and wide. But they are still very reliant on their parents for several more months. They will keep returning to the nests to be fed and then join the adults at a carcass, where they will have to wait their turn to feed. When the adults eventually drive the chicks away from the nest, the young ones must work their way up the literal pecking order.

A Bad Rap

All of Europe’s vultures have had a hard time. Two centuries ago, Bearded, Cinereous, Egyptian, and Griffon Vultures were prevalent breeding bird species in the Central and Southern European mountains. However, due to declining food sources, habitat destruction, persecution, and poisoning, vulture populations dwindled across Europe. By the 1960s, only 2,000 pairs of Griffon vultures and 200 pairs of Cinereous vultures remained in Spain.

More problems were heaped onto the vultures’ proverbial plates when they became unintended casualties of poorly devised laws. Concerns over livestock disease outbreaks led to the wholesale removal of carcasses from rural areas. While starvation is marginally preferable to poisoned food, European vulture populations suffered from a significant void in their weekly menus.

Fortunately, policymakers have seen some sense, leading to relaxation of these laws in certain regions, alleviating pressure on the Griffons. Assistance has also come in the form of feeding stations from Andalusia to the Pyrenees, and across into France. This involves large quantities of offal and bones, collected from various slaughter houses and then distributed by the relevant government agency.

However, the vultures still face threats such as poisoning from Diclofenac, a veterinary drug used in countries like Spain and Italy, which can induce kidney failure in vultures. The remains of game animals laced with traces of lead ammunition also cause poisoning. Not to mention the collisions with electricity infrastructure including wind farms and power-lines.

Wonders of Nature

Vultures perform an essential role as nature’s carrion disposal system. By removing rotting animal flesh from the landscape, they prevent the increase and spread of lethal pathogens in the environment, including those that may have been the cause of their prey’s death. A Eurasian Griffon Vulture’s stomach acid is a force to be reckoned with. Not only does it digest rancid carrion, but it can rapidly neutralise pathogens before they cause any harm. In this way, vultures may help limit the spread of diseases such as anthrax and rabies into human populations.

Griffon vultures truly are a wonder of nature, unjustly burdened with a negative reputation and subjected to tragically sad mistreatment by humans. Yet, the valuable ecological service they provide benefits not only us but a multitude of other species as well. It is only fitting that we extend them the respect and comprehensive protection they so rightfully deserve.