The California sanctuary which has been caring for endangered singing gibbons for 50 years

The California sanctuary which has been caring for endangered singing gibbons for 50 years The Gibbon Conservation Center, which has been running since 1976, is open for guided tours on the weekends - Bookmark - CommentsGo to comments Between morning feedings, the gibbons break into loud song. Their vocalizations — ranging from screeching and siren-like calls to guttural hoots and low grunts — echo across a sanctuary in the dry, hot hills of the Santa Clarita Valley, just north of Los Angeles. Over the last 50 years, the Gibbon Conservation Center has grown from housing a modest assortment of animals into a globally recognized facility dedicated exclusively to gibbon welfare and care. Famed for their distinctive vocal calls, they are among the world's rarest and most critically endangered primates. Currently, the facility cares for approximately 40 gibbons from five distinct species. Their singing can occasionally be heard up to a mile away by the few residents living on the sparsely populated outskirts of Santa Clarita. The sanctuary was established by the late Alan Mootnick, a self-taught primatologist who became a prominent authority on gibbons while simultaneously operating a home painting and remodelling business. He published research papers in academic journals, welcomed international researchers, and answered queries from fellow scientists regarding gibbon identification and care. “Sometimes they would just send him a picture of a rescued gibbon asking what species, or they will play him a vocalization,” director Gabi Skollar said. Skollar moved from Hungary to the U.S. in 2005 to learn from Mootnick and work at the center. She has carried on his mission since his sudden death from heart surgery complications in 2011. Skollar, who had initially planned to leave the job to continue her education, said that she could not abandon the gibbons. “We have to keep going and take care of this place,” she said. Now, she lives on-site with another caretaker, waking up every morning to the cacophony of gibbons at sunrise. They are her children, she said. Each gibbon has their own quirks Having spent decades at the conservation centre, Skollar is intimately familiar with the distinct personalities of the gibbons residing there. A young northern white-cheeked gibbon named Pepper regularly prompts the group to begin their singing sessions, which are brought to a close by a pileated gibbon named Violet and her partner Truman. Meanwhile, Pierre, a rescued gibbon, harbors a dislike of men. The small apes vocalize three to four times every day, singing for 20 to 30 minutes at a time. Skollar, who is researching gibbon vocalization for a doctorate at the University of California, Los Angeles, said: “There’s a lot of things that we can learn in a captive setting that can be shared with conservationists in the field and also with people working in sanctuaries rescuing gibbons.” The primates face rising threats in their natural Southeast Asian tropical rainforest habitats, where deforestation continues to destroy their environment. The illicit wildlife trade poses a severe risk, as young gibbons are routinely taken from their parents to be sold as pets. Wild populations for some of the species cared for at the centre have dwindled to fewer than 2,000 apes. Mootnick bought his first gibbon, Spanky, in 1976 after responding to a newspaper advert. Today, the population is maintained both through births at the site and exchanges with other facilities to safeguard genetic diversity in breeding programmes. The center became the first to successfully breed the endangered Javan gibbon, a species native exclusively to Java in Indonesia, and is preparing to send a pair of northern white-cheeked gibbons to the Pittsburgh Zoo. Caretakers connect with apes On a recent morning, on-site caretaker Jodi Kleier was making the rounds with buckets of washed lettuce, steamed sweet potatoes and bananas. She handed a young gibbon, Rocky, a piece of chopped banana as he reached out through the fence. Rocky was hand-reared by Kleier after being abandoned by his mother after birth at the center, which can happen with first-time mothers if they went through a difficult birth. Kleier has worked at the center for a decade, and started out as a volunteer. She has a tattoo of Rocky on her thigh. She fell in love with gibbons after coming to the center for a primatology course in school. “I love watching any primates play, because I think they’re so natural to us, we kind of see ourselves in them,” she said. Kleier and volunteers who come by during the week are constantly washing and cooking produce because they feed the gibbons five to six times a day to imitate the pace of their foraging behavior in the wild. “The Javans, they’re my favorite species and the male Javan is singing … one of my favorite songs,” Kleier said of a ghostly vocalization. “In Javanese folklore, they’re known as these spirits that live in the forest because you can always hear them.” Schools and tourists can visit While the center is only open to visitors for guided tours on the weekends, they receive steady interest from schools, tourists and senior centers. They also work with local organizations such as The Teaching Zoo at Moorpark College to help students receive hands-on experience in animal care. The college takes first-year students on a field trip to the Gibbon Conservation Center every year, and many have gone on to work there after they graduate. “When I went out there for the first time in the 1990s, I didn’t know what a gibbon was,” said Mara Rodriguez, a development coordinator who's been with the zoo for decades. “Now I’ve raised four gibbons in my career.” Anyone who visits “will leave with a lasting impression and begin to care about the species,” she said. Skollar’s long-term goal is to raise more money to build larger enclosures for the gibbons and construct an education center for visitors. She hopes to continue honoring Mootnick’s legacy and dedicating her life to the gibbons — one of which is named after him. “When he passed away, I just felt that he’s around and helping us keep this center going,” she said. Join our commenting forum Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies Comments