A HOMING PIGEON LEAVES HOME

It's Easier to be Taken Care of, but Where's the Adventure in THAT?

An audacious Japanese Racing Pigeon found us in the Out-Islands of the Bahamas, March 2023.

During the coldest part of the season to date, STEADFAST is resting quietly, awaiting planks and the return of her crew from a few days of respite. Thus, in a season full of great stories, I thought to continue my imaginative version of how a banded Homing Pigeon ended up in our Pilothouse 10,000 miles from home. Please GET CAUGHT UP HERE if you missed the intro. That story, SOLO FLYER, is my most-read post with 1700 views, so I thought a continuation was in order as we launch, adventurous and sparring, into 2025.

We were enthusiastic caregivers for the three weeks this unique traveler joined us; we christened him(?) Herman and developed a broader view of the world. I was so intrigued that my imagination caught fire and, world map at hand, I wrote my first children’s fiction work from his ‘Bird’s-Eye’ point of view.

IT WAS BEAUTIFUL, BUT I LEFT WITH NO REGRETS

I was hatched on the east coast of northern Japan in the spring of 2020, as it says on my leg band. The little coastal town is called Hiroo and several of the residents raise pigeons. The people that breed and train pigeons are called fanciers, which I think is a great name! My fancier sometimes gave tours of the loft where we lived so I learned a lot about who we were and what we do. Racing pigeons, messenger pigeons and homing pigeons are basically the same animal; they are used and bred for different purposes. We all have magnetoreceptors to perceive the magnetic fields of the Earth and that is how we find our way. That sounds like a very special skill to me, no wonder humans find us fascinating! People certainly don’t have that ability from what I’ve seen, and by this time, I’ve seen quite a lot.

Messenger pigeons have not been widely utilized since World War II, when notes were strapped to their legs and they were asked to take those messages through battle! I hope I’m related to some of those brave birds. Japan was defeated in that War and as it turns out I learned a lot about many of those battles later in my travels. My new people admitted that they don’t know too much about Japan, and their interest in me led them to do lots of research. To them, it’s a remote place that they never even considered visiting. To me, it’s a piece of my past, even though I would be able to find my way back if I choose to return.

Pigeon racing, which is what my fancier specialized in, has been a fairly popular sport around the world for centuries; race distances range up to a thousand miles. My flock of pigeons just flew around town every day, and it wasn’t very exciting. Our cubicles were quite small and I could not even stretch my wings all the way. I always had the same view and each day was not much different from the last. Even when I was very young I wanted to see new places and explore them, but for the first few months of my life I followed my flock instead of doing what I really wanted to do. We were not mistreated, and always had food, water and shelter. All the other birds seemed happy, and cooed contentedly. I can’t explain it to you exactly; I simply wanted to explore the world beyond this stretch of coastline, and was waiting for the right time.

Our first race, in late fall, was a test race, and when we got out over the cliffs above the Pacific Ocean I saw my opportunity and headed south. The terrain was very beautiful and at the same time forbidding. When I left the flock my stomach was a little nervous but as I gained altitude a feeling of peace came over me. I would not return to my little cubicle in the loft, as safe as it was. Now, I would make my own decisions as to when I would come and go. The cresting waves below sounded like a symphony and I realized I was truly free. It may have gone against my instincts, but the draw of exploration and travel was just too great! This homing pigeon wasn’t going home.

HERMAN SEES JAPAN

The familiar sound of surf pounding on the rugged coast gave me comfort on my first long solo journey. I had heard some of my flock say that they didn’t like to fly over water but it didn’t bother me at all! I was beginning to think I was a rather unusual homing pigeon, listening to my own little drummer, as people say. I didn’t learn that expression until long after I left the Pacific Rim, but it seems appropriate to add it in since I’m telling my whole story.

I felt a little tailwind as I hugged the coastline and it made my journey easier. I soon found out that Japan is a huge island nation. I ended up flying in an almost southwesterly direction to stay within sight of land, the most comfortable thing for me to do. I was often greeted by gulls and other seabirds but didn’t see anyone else with a leg band.

I watched albatross glide on the air currents without flapping their wings and tried to learn from them so I wouldn’t get too tired. Honestly, I was a little bit afraid that someone might try to capture me and return me to my home loft, so every few hundred miles I rested, drank and spent the night along the craggy cliffs without getting too close to people. I always found a sheltered place to safely roost. It took me several days to travel the whole coast. I truly enjoyed the feel of the wind in my feathers and faced only an occasional cold rain. I gained strength and stamina, got used to being by myself, and loved making my own decisions.

On the fourth day a giant mountain came into view! It was a breathtaking scene, so close to the ocean yet covered with shiny white stuff. I slowed down to look around and spent that night within sight of what seemed to be quite a sacred place. There were a few people climbing the peak, which looked really difficult, and they still couldn’t see everything like I could. Just for the heck of it I flew over the top of the mountain at dawn and got to look down into a giant hole! It wasn’t solid as I had expected it to be, and I later learned it was an active volcano. After a quick peek I got cold and decided I had toured enough. A fellow flyer told me that Mt. Fuji is nearly twelve thousand feet high. When I gain that much altitude, I can take a rest on the way back down and just glide, one of my favorite things. It was a beautiful flight that morning over my home country and I will always remember it. I also remember that there were lots of very noisy planes above me in the sky and I could see a sprawling city just to the west. Back to the quiet coast for this little bird!

At last I reached the tip of the biggest island and in front of me was a long, thin chain stretching even farther south. Japan was the largest country I would encounter until I got to the Bahamas, but I didn’t realize that at the time. I rested on the first and then the last large in that chain; my final night was spent on historic Okinawa.

There were several monuments and it was there that I learned about tourists. Tourists often gather in groups to listen to experts talk about wherever they are and what makes that particular place famous. I grew to love learning about the places I was visiting so wherever I went from then on, I would try to find these things called tours and follow along after them. Most of the time, I could see the places much better than they could, with my bird’s-eye view!

One of the monuments was a place called Hacksaw Ridge; that and many other bloody battles were fought right beneath my wings! People really battled a lot all those decades ago and it seemed like a sad place to me. I instinctually feel those things and the top of that ridge was eerily quiet the day I visited. After stopping at different places farther along my journey, I learned that my home country had been part of a deadly and disruptive war. I didn’t want to stay long, so I rested, ate some interesting new seeds and readied myself for my longest journey thus far. Being free was more difficult in some ways because I had to find food and water on my own, but it was certainly a lot more interesting than my cubicle! I felt pretty great and ready to really start exploring.

I hadn’t been sure of my next destination until I made friends with a Kingfisher who recommended a tropical nation called Palau quite a distance to the southeast. Kingfisher are native birds who live deep in the forest but are easy to spot with their bright orange breast and blue tail feathers. I was resting by a freshwater stream when he introduced himself. We roosted close together that night; it’s nice to feel welcome and have a little company on occasion and I knew that wild birds are generally a great source of information.

Common Japanese Kingfisher. Thanks to etsy.

By this time it was early winter and the nights in Japan were cold and damp. A warm climate sounded perfect and I felt strong enough to fly the twelve hundred miles or so, slightly beyond what is commonly thought to be the range of a homing pigeon. You already know I don’t consider myself an ordinary homing pigeon, so that very afternoon I left Japan behind me and achieved my usual six thousand or so feet of elevation. I looked back several times but felt no regret leaving my homeland. What an adventure; there is so much to see and learn in this big world! I was headed out over the mighty Pacific Ocean, and the winds were in my favor.

HERMAN DISCOVERS THE TROPICS

I traveled overnight and it was just before mid-day when I spotted the striking island nation of Palau. I can fly up to one hundred miles an hour and average around sixty, so the miles slipped by as Japan and all that I had ever known disappeared behind me. Palau is lush, tropical and remote with more than five hundred islands of all shapes and sizes aligned roughly north to south. The Kingfisher told me that there are jellyfish in a lake there so thick you can almost walk on them! The entire country, both the land and the reefs, is a protected National Park, so stopping there for food and water seemed perfect. From my perspective, Palau looked like hundreds of dark green mounds surrounded by glowing aquamarine ocean, so different from the cold gray-green water of my home country. My first really long flight was a tremendous success. I was definitely tired, but the trip seemed to come fairly easily to me.

I didn’t plan exactly where I was going and I’m sure my landing wasn’t graceful, but I had arrived at my first tropical island! The closer I got to the ground the more beautiful it appeared and the unusual shapes were all surrounded by shallow reefs and bright colors. My innate sense of direction and magnetics told me I was much closer to the equator and so did the warm, humid air. I hoped to never spend another cold winter huddled over my skinny red feet and soon learned that the jungle offers plenty of food if you look hard enough. This was paradise, indeed.

Palau, a Bird’s Eye view, courtesy of Google.

How do we pigeons measure time? I honestly don’t know. The days in Palau were nearly equal parts daylight and darkness. While I heard parrots and many other birds in the distance, I was approached by only a few lizards on the dozen or so islands I explored. The famous Jellyfish Lake (it has a native name, too, but I can’t spell it) is in the southern, uninhabited part of the nation and turned out to be pretty easy to find because of all the tourists! I flew over it and watched them squeal when they went swimming in the giant mass of stingless jellyfish. From above, the lake did look almost solid! I shuddered. People do weird things that don’t seem like all that much fun to me. I guess everyone has a different idea of what adventure really means.

I flew right over all those crazy people, and after looking at a few islands farther south, decided to venture on. This time, I chose east. I knew I was following the widest part of the globe, but I was in no rush, and if all the islands were peaceful like Palau, it didn’t really matter where I ended up next. According to a native Fruit Dove, I was headed to a region called Western Micronesia and my instincts told me there would be many characters to meet and places to explore along the way, adding to my story. I am very happy to be HERMAN THE HOMING PIGEON THAT LEFT HOME!

Hope you’re enjoying this flight of fancy! ~J

Herman’s South Pacific trek seems even more inviting with ice forming here on the Chesapeake Bay, USA.

Wouldya please click the heart & Restack that brave Pigeon’s story!?!?