Gerry (Gerald) always said that the small creatures are the nuts and bolts of the ecosystem. But people are only interested in the box office animals.” Lee Durrell, widow of author and conservation icon Gerald Durrell, who called himself the “champion of the small uglies”, shared that belief. In Calcutta recently, the 67-year-old director of Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust which runs Jersey Zoo and 50 projects in 14 countries including India, spoke to t2 about life in a zoo, with and after Gerry.

How did you get into a career with animals?

As a child, I used to collect frogs and toads. In college I took advanced biology. On the first day, the teacher asked: “Have you ever dissected the head of a dog fish?” And I didn’t even know what a dog fish was! So I shifted to philosophy.  But a couple of years on I was able to take science classes and could go to graduate school in the department of zoology at Duke University. I was back to my first love — animals. I studied with an ethologist (one who studies animal behaviour in the wild), Peter Clockfer. The university has a big facility for the breeding of lemurs of Madagascar. I was cleaning animal cages for a bit of money and fell in love with the lemurs and decided to do my dissertation on animal communication. 

I travelled to Madagascar and ended up staying for two years. There was a military coup and the whole place shut down. That was 1975. For six months, the country was closed to international flights. But I was safe down south where I was doing my studies. Finally I returned to the university to write my dissertation. 

How did you meet Gerald Durrell?

I was still analysing the results in May when my professors asked if I knew Gerald Durrell. I had read all his books at the Mission Library in Madagascar. So I said: “Of course, he is my hero.” They said: “He is coming. Do you want to come to dinner?” His personality was like a 1000 watts as he walked into the room — he had this charisma. (Smiles) We started chatting and he paid a lot of attention to me. We went to a restaurant and as I was the only one who knew the way, my car was leading. But we were talking so much that we got lost! 

He telephoned the next day and asked if I wanted to come to Washington in September-October when he would be back to lecture. I agreed. We had a nice dinner and went our ways. Later he wrote that he had been left a legacy by an old lady with which he wanted to set up a sound recording laboratory in Jersey Zoo. “Would you advise me on it?” he asked. I got my big tape recorder and flew over but clearly it was a ruse and he had other motives. We got married. He used to say that he was the only man who got married for his zoo.

How was life with Gerald Durrell?

He was not the easiest person to live with. He could become opinionated but mostly we shared the same opinion. Watching the natural world dwindle, he would rail against the way human beings were treating the earth. Otherwise living with him was great fun. He was a great raconteur. All the family was.
 
How would he do his writing?

He started writing long hand in his late 20s when his first book was published. Then he would dictate to his secretary. This was before my time. Then he started using his typewriter but I think he got fed up with it and went back to dictating. In my day, he sat and wrote it down and sometimes he would stand and dictate that back to his secretary, changing things along the way. We had a house in France. We would send back his manuscripts to his secretary in Jersey and she would type it out and send them back. His method of working was interesting. He would think long and hard, planning the whole book in his head. Quite often, he would be found gazing out of the window. He would say: ‘I know people think I’m just enjoying myself but I’m thinking about this book’. Suddenly it would come pouring out. Then he just wrote and wrote for days. It was amazing to watch.

When was your first expedition together?

That was before our marriage. We decided to get married in January 1978. His divorce to his first wife Jacquie still had to come through. He set me up in a little room in France where I would be writing my dissertation all day. Then I was asked to deliver a paper at a seminar in Madagascar. It’s such a fascinating country for animals and plants but Gerry had never been there. So I said I’d show him Madagascar. Then we went to Mexico to collect volcano rabbits. Gerry had collected those back in the ‘60s but they didn’t survive. He wanted to try again with another group. We went way up in the mountains with a film crew. Most of our trips involved filming documentaries. A friend of his — a professor of biology with the University of Mexico — helped with the capture to send back to Jersey for breeding. We had permission to get six or eight. But again they didn’t do well. I think the nutrition was not right. They are probably dependent on something in the volcanic soil which was coming into the plants. That project failed. 

The trip included a visit to the valley of the butterflies in Mexico. In summer, these big beautiful Monarch butterflies migrate up to North America and Canada and in winter they return to these few valleys in Mexico. They hang from trees in great bunches like grapes. It’s an incredible sight. Then we got married, in 1979. 

And that must have been the starting point for more expeditions!

(Laughs) He had started conservation work in Mauritius in the 1970s. In 1980-1981, we went to do a film series. The series was about the work that had already started in Mauritius and the natural history of Madagascar — on how the animals need conservation help. That was our first big expedition. It took months.

From the books it seems like animal collection was big fun, with a tin drum search party. But there must have been risks?

You must be thinking of A Zoo in My Luggage and The Bafut Beagles. When he was younger, he probably didn’t hesitate to put his hand in a hole in the tree even though there could have been something in there. In one of the books, he was collecting snakes and he went down into a pit of vipers in West Africa and his shoe fell off. So he was barefoot in this pit of snakes. Remember that? There was always an element of risk when you were out in the bush. But he wouldn’t take silly risks. And he was not on his own. There were helpers around.

You also went to Russia together, didn’t you?

We went thrice — in late ‘84, spring ‘85 and summer ‘85. It was for a 13-part TV series. The idea was to learn about the animals and plants of the Soviet Union and see what they were doing in their reserves. Zapovidnik was a really good system of reserves. But they didn’t communicate with each other. So if one had a problem with a certain kind of bird, they couldn’t ask the others. They had to report to the central authority in Moscow. There was a lot of red tape. But they loved the animals they worked with.

Any animals that stand out from that trip?

Lots. Towards the end we saw the musk oxen — great, big, wild cattle found only near the Tundra. Those are real prehistoric creatures. I think they had been wiped out of Russia. But the Americans, the Canadians and the Soviets got together to try to save the species. There were still some in Canada and the Canadians sent a small herd to Russia with the help of the Americans.

In the days of the Cold War?

Yes! This is not very well known. People were fighting politically and that’s all you heard about. But the scientists and the biologists were working to build a new herd in Russia. That’s what we went to film in Taymyr Peninsula. We had to go in by helicopter. It was fascinating.

Among all the animals you have handled, which was most mischievous?

We were filming in the African Savannah for a book we did together titled The Amateur Naturalist. Gerry always liked to film the small creatures. We had one or two golden moles captured. To film it we kept it in a terrareum (like a glass aquarium but with earth in it instead of water) so the cameraman could film it digging. It was in our room and it escaped. We couldn’t find it anywhere! 

When we were filming in Corfu, the hotelier let us keep the terrapins (fresh water turtles) in the bath tub in our room. It was too smooth. They couldn’t crawl out.

But the most mischievous animals were the lemurs of Madagascar. That was Gerry’s last big trip, in 1990. The captured baby lemurs were in our hotel room. We had very tolerant hoteliers all our lives. We would let the baby lemurs come out of their boxes for exercise. They would start climbing up the curtains and it was difficult to get them down.

What about the aye-ayes (from The Aye-Aye and I)?
They were wonderful. The story goes that aye-aye in Malagase means ‘look here’. We collected them on the same trip. The villagers found them for us. We kept them in the animal compound we had constructed. It was my job to feed them. They became quite tame and came to take food from my hands. 

Did animals escape in the zoo?

In the early days of the zoo, before I arrived, the chimpanzees were forever getting out and going up to see Gerry’s mother. They had taken a liking to her. She used to give them tea and sweets. Once a snow leopard came out. The stone wall next to its cage had collapsed. But it just sat around. So it wasn’t a problem. We did have our big male orang utang Gamba come out once. He was walking around the zoo. The animal escape drill went in. Finally it got into another building at which point the keepers could shut the door. Gorillas, orang utangs and bears are our dangerous animals. And we do a dangerous animal escape drill every year. Every zoo should. 

The macaques from Indonesia are often escaping, especially the young ones. The big males can give a nasty bite. Some, like the Brazilian monkeys, run free at the zoo. They live in the woods in a certain area. We have put huts where they can go at night. They keep their own territory. They have plenty of food and shelter. So they don’t escape.

Do any of them like articles of human use?

In case something falls into the enclosure, the gorillas know they can trade spectacles or a bag for banana or grapes. The tamarins are very naughty and try to get into handbags of people walking by. We try to discourage that. It’s certainly not a good idea for either party!

Do any animals have a favourite food that is tough to procure?

We have an organic farm where we grow things that the animals like but are difficult to find. It’s economical also. We grow figs in plastic tunnels and fields of sunflowers. All the apes love the big heads of sunflowers. They pick out the seeds and then eat the whole stalk.

Do any creature ever get irritated with the long flights?

The bird park in Majorca had closed and we went to get its wriggled hornbills in our little plane. We had to take the back seat out to make space for the big birds. We were flying over the Pyrenees.... Suddenly there was this sound... dhok, dhok, dhok. We thought something was wrong with the engine. We checked all the dials of the instruments. Then we took our headsets off and looked back. It was a hornbill knocking on the side of a crate! 

What is the best part of life in a zoo?

We live right over the shop, as they say. I’d say it’s when a baby is born, particularly a baby ape. Last year, we had a bear born. Sometimes we walk around the zoo after it shuts. Jersey is beautiful in summer and there is light till 10 o’clock. I also love showing people around my zoo.

Sudeshna Banerjee