By Brian Reyes

                                                                                                                                                    Photos by Johnny Bugeja

The falcon emerged from the blinding sun, wings tucked tight against its body as it plummeted towards the earth in a steep dive.  It dropped from the sky like a lead weight, talons outstretched before its sleek body.  The bird was hunting, and its prey stood little chance.  On the ground below, standing against the backdrop of the Strait of Gibraltar and the blue-grey mountains of Morocco, Vincent Robba swung a lure on a length of cord.  He was training the falcon to kill.  In a flash of airborne acrobatics, the bird cut its dive just feet from the scrub, twisted in the air and sank its claws into the lure.  Mr Robba smiled contentedly to himself. The student was doing well.  Soon, the falcon would be ready for release into the wild.

This was a routine evening at the Raptor Unit of the Gibraltar Ornithological and Natural History Society.  The unit was set up over a decade ago and one of its primary tasks is to rehabilitate raptors - or birds of prey, in common terminology - and reintroduce them into the wild.  Alongside Peregrine Falcons, many other types of birds come through the GONHS aviaries on Windmill Hill.  Among others the unit has cared for Booted Eagles, Short Toed Eagles, Bonellis Eagles, Griffon Vultures, Common and Honey Buzzards, Black Kites, Lesser and Common Kestrels, Goshawks, Sparrow Hawks, Hobbys and several types of owl.  The birds come into Mr Robba's care for different reasons, but many would perish without his help.  Over the years, nearly 300 birds have been saved and cared for."There are always birds coming in and birds being released," he said.

Migration, during the spring and the autumn, is always a particularly busy period for the GONHS raptor team. The Strait of Gibraltar provides the shortest sea crossing between the birds' summer haunts in Europe and their winter sanctuaries in Africa.  For several weeks a year, thousands of birds of prey use Gibraltar as a staging post for the trip.  But there are perils and not all of them make it. Some fall prey to flocks of aggressive gulls.  Others succumb to exhaustion, or to manmade hazards like electricity cabling and pylons. Regularly in Gibraltar these birds are picked up from the sea, from the airfield, from patches of waste ground and once even from the balcony of a flat in Varyl Begg estate.  Always, Mr Robba or one of his team are called to the scene.  It is hard work. On a single day recently, he was called out three times to attend to injured Griffon Vultures.

This is teamwork.  The birds are spotted by the public and collected, or sometimes they are brought in by one or another of the emergency services.  They are checked by Mr Robba and, if need be, medical help is sought from the Gibraltar Veterinary Clinic. Recovery is often long and slow.

Standing outside one of the unit's aviaries, Mr Robba held up a Short Toed Eagle with piercing yellow eyes. The bird was spotted on a cliff in a very poor condition.  The spot was inaccessible, so Mr Robba and his team staked it out round-the-clock for two days until finally they were able to catch the bird.  The eagle had a broken leg which required a metal pin to be inserted by local vet Mark Pizarro.  After that, in the seclusion of Windmill Hill, the bird was slowly nursed back to health.  Eventually it will be trained out of convalescence and released. It certainly looked perky, and Mr Robba kept a tight grip on its talons.  "It was practically dead when it came to us," he said.  "Now look at it."

Mr Robba is unassuming in his manner. He says he has been handling birds since he was twelve and it shows, for example in the way that, with the minimum of fuss, he holds birds that could easily claw a gaping wound in his arm. It is a confidence born from decades of experience.  Perhaps deliberately, he understates his commitment to his work.  Occasionally though he says things that give away his passion for what he does. I asked him what his favourite bird is.   "A lot of people ask me that and I always say, if you've got five children, you love them all the same," he replied.  I asked if the birds had names. "No," he said, "because you often get attached to them and giving them names makes it harder when they go.  " Later I asked him what he feels when the time comes to release a bird.   "It's a fulfilment," he said.   "Most of them are nearly dead when they come in. If you've done a good job, it's a great sense of achievement.  But when they fly away, a little part of you goes as well."

The birds are tagged electronically when they are free in the air.  Sometimes they decide to roam far even though they are not yet ready for release.  The tag allows the raptor team to trace them. Recently, one bird was returned having first been tracked to Murcia.

As he flew the birds that evening, Mr Robba carefully monitored each one's progress. The first falcon was almost ready for release.  It hovered high in the sky, dipping and ducking as it watched the ground below, seeking out its target.  These were essential survival skills that would be put into use daily throughout its adult life.  The second bird was less sure of itself, flying low and close to the lure, seeking its reward for a good catch but not wanting to do the hard work first.  It will take some time before this bird is released.  There are currently seven pairs of Peregrine Falcons living and breeding in Gibraltar, about as many as the Rock can sustain. Once released, the young birds being trained will likely drift to Spain in search of space and food.

Apart from rehabilitation the raptor unit is also involved in conservation work and has successfully bred some species of birds, including Peregrine Falcons. Mr Robba and his team also keep close contact with other similar centres around the world.  Sometimes, birds bred in captivity abroad are brought to Gibraltar and released here, thus helping to cut down on the distance they have to fly to reach softer climes.

On Windmill Hill, it was Gilbert Gonzalez's turn to fly a bird.  He worked the falcon hard, keeping the lure out of its reach swoop after swoop. The bird circled and tried again.  With each attempt, the lesson was reinforced. Out in the wild, the falcon's prey would try everything to escape its talons.  Mr Gonzalez was standing on an old gun emplacement high up on the cliffs overlooking Rosia Bay.  He was alone with the falcon. As we watched from a distance, he let out a length of cord and swung the lure around his head.  High in the sky, silhouetted against the burning sun, the falcon tucked its wings tight against its body and plummeted down towards the earth.

FOOTNOTE:  The young peregrine Falco peregrinus brookei featured in this article and in the photographs on this page was successfully trained and went back to the wild during the first week of August 2007.