Asses and Apes
A tale of two sanctuaries.
We visited a donkey sanctuary on the Isle of Wight, called, by chance - The Isle of Wight Donkey Sanctuary. It’s situated about 3 miles north of Ventnor on the island’s south coast among patchwork farmland in a rolling landscape. At least I think it is, it’s not easy to tell today because it’s foggy, visibility is about 100 yards. Out of the gloom appears a magical place that will bowl us over.
Two smiling, lady volunteers welcome us and tell us there’s no entry fee. We discuss the matter and decide it could be the only square foot in England without an entry charge. Mind you, it’ll cost us before we leave. All around are twin-railed enclosures, perhaps fifty by a hundred yards, each with a ‘herd’ of donkeys. I could have called it a ‘drove’ of donkeys or a ‘pace’, though today pace is not appropriate because they are basically immobile and huddled together, trying to keep out the chill. A ‘huddle’, there’s another collective noun! Had it been 30 degrees warmer, the wooden fencing may well have put me in mind of one of those small ranches in wild west movies where horses whinny and a small wind turbine creaks in the breeze. There are walkways between the paddocks though they are closed off at present because it’s a touch soggy underfoot. There are (my rough count) 16 such enclosures each with a ‘field shelter’ where the donkeys can get out of the worst of the wind and rain - or the hot sun. There is a collection of large barns used variously for ‘quarantine / acclimatisation’ for new arrivals, treatment centres, large general shelters and movingly, Poppy’s Place which was built in 2019 and named after a beloved resident donkey who passed away. This is where they care for donkeys who are elderly and/or have special health needs, also a place where donkey’s can recover from surgery or illness. It’s an amazing set-up throughout and without a shadow of doubt, it’s the animals who have priority here.
It’s not that warm frankly, which is possibly why the donkeys are not gambolling around the fields; instead they chat among themselves and patiently await warmer times. Does a donkey gambol?
On alternate concrete / shale paths, we wander around between barns passing banks of photographs of the rescued donkeys and plaques outside buildings explaining their purpose. We lean on a wooden rail and a donkey comes for a chat. Smaller than horses (except small horses - if you get my meaning), they are affectionate, inquisitive creatures, gentle and appreciative of a rub behind the ears. This chap is basically grey with big orangey ears. The rest of his mates are fifty yards away up the paddock, gathered close to keep warm probably. Finally he wanders off slowly up the field to join his mates.
Time for a brew in the recently renovated café. We arrived fairly early this morning when it was pretty quiet but things are getting busier now and, as always, the café is well patronised. Everyone gravitates to a café.
‘Did you enjoy the Tutankhamun exhibition Ethel?’
‘Certainly did Flo, that lemon meringue pie were to die for.’
We both have a warm feeling about these beasts and admire the work of the staff who look after them, ably supported by a team of volunteers. Looking round, you just know that the animals are being given every chance.
Impulsively, but pretty typical for us, we decide to adopt one!
There’s a book of A4 photos showing donkeys available for adoption. Jan is leaving this to me - concentrating hard on her coffee and carrot cake. One donkey jumps out at me. He’s called Joseph. My name is Jo and, as my sister pointed out, it’s holiday time and Joseph is a Christmassy name, so it’s all very synchronistic. I fill in a form, pay my dosh, and hey-presto, we’ve adopted a donkey. I’m given a rather smart little bag that contains, among other bits and bobs, a fridge magnet on which there’s is a photo of Joseph. We’ll get newsletters with information about what’s going on at the sanctuary and invitations to various events. Distance will be a prohibitive factor to our joining in too much, it’s the thick end of 300 miles from home, but we’ll make every effort get back sometime. I wonder if we can FaceTime with our donkey (or Pace Time?!)
Most importantly we’ll take away the knowledge that we’re doing a little bit to make the life of one of these lovely creatures just a little better. Yes, I know he’s not ‘ours’ ours, but don’t spoil it.
‘Would you like to meet Joseph before you go?’ asks the male half of the twin adoption volunteers. Of course we would, so we follow him out. He’s a good chatter is our guide, and obviously loves the work he’s doing. He tells me that the life expectancy of a donkey here can be 10 years more than one in the ‘wild’. They are really treated like royalty, he says. Regular health checks and hoof cleaning (especially important because they have soft, vulnerable hoofs). And great diets, often individually tailored, particularly if they have health conditions.
‘There he is,’ he says, pointing up a paddock.
Amazingly, out of about a hundred, he was the first one we chatted to and petted!
He’s standing a little way up the field but his ears are pricked and, yes, they are unmistakeably the ears we scratched a little while ago. He looks down at us, and you know, I think he has a smile on his face!
Before we leave we pop into the shop. Jan buys a mug with a photo of a donkey on it, I get a T-shirt with ‘Smartass’ writ large across an image of a donkey.
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You have to look an animal in the eye to begin to understand something of what they really are. My earliest memory of a chimpanzee was Judy from the 1960s TV programme Daktari (Daktari means Doctor in Swahili.) That was made for TV stuff and Judy was one of the mischievous animal stars of the show, along with Clarence, the cross-eyed lion. They don’t make ‘em like that any more.
At Monkey World Ape Sanctuary near Wareham, Hampshire, UK, you can get as close to many wonderful animals as they’ll allow - albeit with a strong mesh fence or thick pane of glass between us and them. The fences and glass are there for everyone’s safety. Apart from the few apes that were born here, the rest are rescued; instinctively wild animals with the added complication of the psychological trauma of having been rescued, often from vile situations. As far as we know they wouldn’t make a conscious decision to hurt you, but their fear or instinct for self-protection may say otherwise. Some of them have had their teeth removed by photographers who exploit them on Mediterranean beaches. It’s disgusting frankly. Those that escaped that horror have some mighty big teeth! Chimps, for example, are strong. While searching for information, I came across two headlines that ironically appeared on exactly the same date, 26th June 2017. One, a BBC feature stated that chimps are between 4 and 8 times stronger than humans. Conversely, the New Scientist said that they are 1.5 times stronger (relative to body mass). This same research went on to say that chimps have a higher proportion of ‘Fast Twitch fibres’ which are stronger but tire more quickly. There we are, learned something there didn’t we?!
I read both articles in full, and it turns out the BBC headline was misleading. In fact, both publications basically agree that the figure is more like 1.5 times. The BBC’s headline was more of an attention-grabber, plus they appear to have used the data direct from the ‘scientific’ study. Whichever, chimps are undoubtedly stronger, and they could do us damage in the wrong circumstance. Respect is the watchword.
The apes at Monkey World have warm, dry internal enclosures with free access to a large exterior space with imaginative and interesting climbing routes to satisfy their natural instincts and curiosity. I got one beautiful series of photos of a pair of chimps bonding and play-fighting on a high platform. They were silhouetted against a misty sun so the scene appeared in monochrome, making it somehow ethereal. They would groom for a minute, then scrap for a minute with a playful, half-hearted flapping of arms. It was a beautiful scene acted out in an almost dystopian setting far above our heads. At one point, they even appeared to have a quick kiss before starting the next act in their play. They will never again live in the wild, but this sanctuary gives them the chance to live, as near as possible, as nature intended.
The apes here are safe and really well cared for. They are a diverse and amazing bunch, so ‘human’ in many ways; though our evolutional paths actually split over 6 million years ago. You wouldn’t think so mind, because one chimp, not 2 feet away behind glass, looked us right in the eye with an alarmingly direct, quizzical expression, burrowing into us and scrutinizing. He was so mortal that just, for a moment, the intervening aeons vanished and we were the same beast sharing steamy jungle long ago.
We both took photos of this guy. He rewarded me with a huge yawn, as if to say, ‘I’ve seen it all before mate!’
There are orang-utans, chimps, gibbons, capuchins, marmosets, tamarins, woolly monkeys and others; around 250 in total rescued from such as the pet trade, photographers props, bio-medical research establishments and more. It’s heartbreaking that these lovely creatures could have been treated so disgustingly.
Monkey World sits in 65 acres of the Dorset countryside and is an amazing place to visit. It’s incredibly touching that these beautiful creatures will live out their lives in comfort and safety.
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We’re back home in Lancashire a week later when I find my fossil-hunting wife staring at a photograph on her phone. It’s a chimp.
‘What do you think?’ she asks.
Of course, I know what she means.
We didn’t know his name so I emailed some photos to Monkey World to see if they could identify him. They replied within an hour, saying: “This is Pacito who we rescued from a terrible garden shed, that he was chained inside, in Barcelona. He had been kept there for years until the neighbours complained about the noise and smell. He will have been smuggled from the wild in Africa to be sold illegally as a baby in Spain. It is so sad but the story is the same for most of our rescued chimpanzees. Nonetheless Pacito is really nice “person”.”
Now we had the name, we looked him up on the Monkey World website and found him in the ‘Bachelor Group’, one of 4 groups of chimps. From his ‘profile’: “When he arrived he could not climb well and he did not know how to behave like a chimpanzee. Pacito took a long time to learn how to understand the other chimps and the best way to interact with them. He still comes unstuck sometimes although the other bachelors try to ignore these instances as much as possible. He is a very playful chimp.”
So yes,…………. another adoption!
The guy who looked us in the eye has adopted us.
From time to time we give talks on our boating adventures. Light-hearted things they are, often to elderly audiences, folk who love to be out and about, banter with us and hopefully enjoy themselves. I insist on an audience of at least 30, so if fifteen fall asleep, it’s worth carrying on! The exorbitant (cough) fees we charge will go towards paying for the new members of our ‘family’.