It was a beautiful morning and a perfect morning for hunting and gathering. My husband, Matthew dropped me, my aunt Deedee, and her friend Mary Lewis off at Sandy Point. Little did I know that as we gathered over 100 sand dollars, that I would be the one in fact hunted. We walked over 6 miles, and when I came upon a lone pelican about 3 miles in, there wasn't a sole in sight. Deedee and Mary Lewis had gotten a bit ahead of me. I thought as I walked up to Pete, that this would be a good opportunity to get a close picture of a pelican. Perhaps I would paint him later. Bad idea.
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| This is Pete. |
Pete turned on me. It felt like pay back for bothering all my outdoor buds. He came after me. I backed up and went on my way. As I continued picking up sand dollars up at the high tide line, squatting like a 2 year old with new knees, out of no where Pete was in my face, his beak going right for my shells. I dropped over 6 sand dollars trying to get up to get away. In the "flight or fight" scenario, it's obvious I am a flight kind of girl. I ran. Panting, trying to meet up with Deedee and Mary Lewis, I tried to get away. And I thought I was successful, until I see Pete begin to fly after me. Low to the ground with a wing span wider than Michael Jordan's basketball arms, I started hyperventilating. WTF?! I ran to the ocean, smacking the salt water with my feet hoping that the ocean splashing would deter Pete more. Oh wait, there's a sand dollar. I picked up the beauty, continuing to pant, and looking over my shoulder. Pete remained at the attack location.
I finally made it to Deedee and Mary Lewis, explaining the recent course of events. Seconds later, Pete is in the air again after me; after us. I found a palm on the ground and picked it up. Flight obviously didn't work, so now I decide it's time to fight. Deedee is a fight girl first and foremost, and picks up an old fire extinguisher that was left on the beach from the ocean, and we started yelling "NO" at Pete. I didn't want to hurt Pete, I just wanted some peace again.
Finally after throwing a clam, that reeked of low tide, Pete was no longer interested in what I had to offer. It was obvious that Pete was not protecting a nest - we had covered at least 2 miles. Pete was after food. Sandy Point is frequented by boaters all over the Charleston area, and it's obvious that some dumb** visitors thought it was a good idea to feed the pelicans. It is never a good idea to feed live animals. Never. And, not just because locals will call you a tourist either to your face, or silently behind your back. It always back fires. Thankfully it was only a pelican and not some alligator displaced on the ocean. And, even though he may have deserved it, Pete left us alone unscathed. Finally. So, no pelican's were injured as a result.
We laughed about it all day, obviously even naming the lone attacker. And, thankfully last night I did not have nightmares of pelicans attacking me. But I can say, I will never look at pelicans the same ever again.
Here are some other, more calming photos of our otherwise enjoyable and peaceful hunting and gathering adventure:
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| Peek - a - boo. |
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| I love when you find a sand dollar showing it's true texture. |
Don't feed pelicans, and have a great day!
Cheers,
Margaret
