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Ottawa’s Royal swans are a pampered bunch of flightless, shiftless courtiers.
Originally a centennial gift from the Queen in 1967, the descendants of the six original pair spend their winters in splendid captivity — fed, monitored and spoiled on the public purse — only to be released ceremoniously on the Rideau River every spring.
Their sole job, really, is to float adorably and putter gracefully along the urban shoreline, be photographed often and, occasionally, produce loveable offspring. All very House of Windsor.
So a handful of members at the Rockcliffe Yacht Club were taken aback last week when one of the “Mute” white swans was spotted paddling around on the much bigger Ottawa River, about six kilometres downstream from where the Rideau majestically dumps in.
It had escaped, flown — well, blown — its summer coop!
Because the birds can’t fly, the only plausible explanation was this wanderer had swan-dived right over the mighty Rideau Falls, at nearly 10 metres high, and kept right on paddling, if “paddling” is what swans even do.
Nor did it particularly want to return to the shallow, still bays of the Rideau, its swan song not quite played out.
“This was a highly unusual sight,” wrote club member Theresa O’Rourke, who marvelled the swan made it over the falls without breaking its freakishly long neck.
“(This was) certainly a death defying stunt for any living thing, much yet a delicate majestic swan.” There was no telling whether it used a barrel in the Niagara-like descent.
The authorities were alerted and a crew showed up in a motorboat, equipped with a net and a wooden crate. Yet our feathered prince or princess would not quietly end its skylark.
“(It was captured) but not without a good fight in which the swan became somewhat bloodied. The swan was eventually put into a wooden box and was violently banging its head against the side as the boat returned to headquarters,” she wrote. Having a bird, it is possibly called.
(The city responded Tuesday that the wandering swan was retrieved “uninjured,” near Upper Duck Island no less, and is back on the Rideau.)
Alas, our swan is hardly a pioneer.
It turns out, on rare occasions, the birds do not solely make the Rideau their Swanee River.
In 1989, the Citizen told the story of one Art, of the original royal dozen, so-named because he developed arthritis and needed special attention. As he aged, he napped a good deal and it was thought he was tucked in and sleeping when he went over the Falls and into the Ottawa.
He was retrieved and put back in home waters, a legend born.
For a long time, the swans were mainly looked after by city employee Christine Hartig, so dedicated to the task she was named Honorary Keeper of the Royal Swans in 2012.
She has revealed remarkable tidbits over the years. There once was a royal swan named Patch, who had one eye and a wonky sense of direction. As if to erase any doubt about his vision, he was found walking across the St. Patrick’s Street Bridge at 5 a.m. one morning.
Patch, we were told, was found peacefully deceased — as though asleep — behind 24 Sussex Drive one day, after living for almost 40 years. Though swans generally mate for life, Hartig was convinced there was a gay dandy named Buddy, who would only pal up with another male (called a cob).
The city actually has a second species of swan, called the Australian Black — obtained in 1974 — one of which was beaten to death near Billings Bridge in 1991, just to remind us even beautiful creatures live in a miserable world.
The birds, meanwhile, cannot fly because they’ve been “pinioned”, meaning certain flight feathers have been permanently clipped, lest the swans follow their instincts to migrate.
For a long time, the swans were kept in a city-owned facility at the Leitrim Nursery nicknamed — what a laugh factory is city hall! — Swantanamo Bay. But, alas, their winter home began to fall apart. The Royal swans, we gather, were not amused.
So, in October 2015, the city entered into an agreement to send the swans to Parc Safari, south of Montreal, for the cold months. “There, each pair of swans has its own indoor pen with a resting area and a swimming pool, and its own outdoor pen,” says the city’s website.
It isn’t Buckingham Palace, but the bill still comes to $22,000 a year, plus feed and vet care.
“Should we worry,” concludes O’Rourke, “about what the palace will come up with for our upcoming 150th?”
To contact Kelly Egan, please call 613-726-5896 or email kegan@postmedia.com
Twitter.com/kellyegancolumn
查看原文...
Originally a centennial gift from the Queen in 1967, the descendants of the six original pair spend their winters in splendid captivity — fed, monitored and spoiled on the public purse — only to be released ceremoniously on the Rideau River every spring.
Their sole job, really, is to float adorably and putter gracefully along the urban shoreline, be photographed often and, occasionally, produce loveable offspring. All very House of Windsor.
So a handful of members at the Rockcliffe Yacht Club were taken aback last week when one of the “Mute” white swans was spotted paddling around on the much bigger Ottawa River, about six kilometres downstream from where the Rideau majestically dumps in.
It had escaped, flown — well, blown — its summer coop!
Because the birds can’t fly, the only plausible explanation was this wanderer had swan-dived right over the mighty Rideau Falls, at nearly 10 metres high, and kept right on paddling, if “paddling” is what swans even do.
Nor did it particularly want to return to the shallow, still bays of the Rideau, its swan song not quite played out.
“This was a highly unusual sight,” wrote club member Theresa O’Rourke, who marvelled the swan made it over the falls without breaking its freakishly long neck.
“(This was) certainly a death defying stunt for any living thing, much yet a delicate majestic swan.” There was no telling whether it used a barrel in the Niagara-like descent.
The authorities were alerted and a crew showed up in a motorboat, equipped with a net and a wooden crate. Yet our feathered prince or princess would not quietly end its skylark.
“(It was captured) but not without a good fight in which the swan became somewhat bloodied. The swan was eventually put into a wooden box and was violently banging its head against the side as the boat returned to headquarters,” she wrote. Having a bird, it is possibly called.
(The city responded Tuesday that the wandering swan was retrieved “uninjured,” near Upper Duck Island no less, and is back on the Rideau.)
Alas, our swan is hardly a pioneer.
It turns out, on rare occasions, the birds do not solely make the Rideau their Swanee River.
In 1989, the Citizen told the story of one Art, of the original royal dozen, so-named because he developed arthritis and needed special attention. As he aged, he napped a good deal and it was thought he was tucked in and sleeping when he went over the Falls and into the Ottawa.
He was retrieved and put back in home waters, a legend born.
For a long time, the swans were mainly looked after by city employee Christine Hartig, so dedicated to the task she was named Honorary Keeper of the Royal Swans in 2012.
She has revealed remarkable tidbits over the years. There once was a royal swan named Patch, who had one eye and a wonky sense of direction. As if to erase any doubt about his vision, he was found walking across the St. Patrick’s Street Bridge at 5 a.m. one morning.
Patch, we were told, was found peacefully deceased — as though asleep — behind 24 Sussex Drive one day, after living for almost 40 years. Though swans generally mate for life, Hartig was convinced there was a gay dandy named Buddy, who would only pal up with another male (called a cob).
The city actually has a second species of swan, called the Australian Black — obtained in 1974 — one of which was beaten to death near Billings Bridge in 1991, just to remind us even beautiful creatures live in a miserable world.
The birds, meanwhile, cannot fly because they’ve been “pinioned”, meaning certain flight feathers have been permanently clipped, lest the swans follow their instincts to migrate.
For a long time, the swans were kept in a city-owned facility at the Leitrim Nursery nicknamed — what a laugh factory is city hall! — Swantanamo Bay. But, alas, their winter home began to fall apart. The Royal swans, we gather, were not amused.
So, in October 2015, the city entered into an agreement to send the swans to Parc Safari, south of Montreal, for the cold months. “There, each pair of swans has its own indoor pen with a resting area and a swimming pool, and its own outdoor pen,” says the city’s website.
It isn’t Buckingham Palace, but the bill still comes to $22,000 a year, plus feed and vet care.
“Should we worry,” concludes O’Rourke, “about what the palace will come up with for our upcoming 150th?”
To contact Kelly Egan, please call 613-726-5896 or email kegan@postmedia.com
Twitter.com/kellyegancolumn
查看原文...
