The American Spectator : Noisy Nights in Paradise

Text Size

Noisy Nights in Paradise

Amazon parrots sure know where to go for spring break.

PALM BEACH, Fla. -- Each night, dozens of little green parrots come home to the pine trees right outside our bedroom window to spend the night by the ocean.

We're at the legendary Breakers Hotel, and these birds are wild green-cheeked Amazon parrots (Amazona Viridigenalis). They're an endangered species, reduced steadily in number since the 1980s by habitat loss and unsustainable capture rates for the pet trade.

The green-cheeks, native to Mexico, reportedly have only a single breeding site in Florida, a 150-year-old stand of ornamental Australian pine (Casuarina) at The Breakers.

This particular population of parrots on the hotel's grounds, steady in number at approximately 100 to 150 birds for decades, is thought to have resulted from a single release of the wild birds sometime during the 1940s -- perhaps by the hotel's entrepreneurial owner to add some tropical color.

"Breeding of the green-cheek is completely dependent on the naturally forming cavities within a row of old-growth Casuarina that were planted as ornamental vegetation during the 1860s along the original entry road to The Breakers Hotel," reports the Rare Species Conservatory Foundation. "No other suitable nesting trees appear to be available to the species in south Florida."

Twice a day, in the morning when they're leaving for the day and at night when they're returning to their favorite trees, just like the daily rush hours of humans, these small parrots provide "a raucous spectacle for onlookers," the conservatory explains.

Hotel guests with windows near the trees have occasionally complained about the ruckus, asking that either the birds be moved or silenced or that they themselves be transferred to a quiet room with no nearby Australian pines and noisy Mexican miniatures.

The evening period of commotion occurs like clockwork when the birds come flying home right before sundown -- this week at 7:10 p.m., give or take a few minutes. They dive and squawk until they get what they consider a satisfactory branch for the evening, so there's about 10 or 15 minutes or so of light screeching, hardly enough of a misfortune to warrant a call to security or a money-back departure.

Regarding the money, our "standard" room is $610 a night, with $50 back per night in rewards to spend at the hotel's shops or restaurants. The top meal at the top restaurant at the hotel last night was $175 per person, a "tasting" dinner, plus $90 per person for a suggested wine pairing, plus a mandated 20 percent gratuity, so that's $265 per person plus a $53 tip, or a per capita total of $318.

For two of us, that's $636 for a single meal. True, it's at a fine place, L'Escalier, The Breakers' AAA five-diamond restaurant. But at $50 in rewards per night, we'd have to stay 13 nights just to get that one top-notch complimentary meal. That's $7,930 just in room rents, not counting breakfast and lunch, and not counting dinner the other 12 nights.

In any case, the $318 dinner started with something called a "Mozzarella Explosion." A "Cherry Bomb Radish" came next in the second course. That was followed by a "Variation of Powders," just in case, I suppose, the previous things didn't properly ignite.

For dessert, and it would have fit perfectly with the apparent theme, the final course surprisingly didn't feature a slice of "Death by Chocolate" or "Triple Fudge Suicide." The whole thing sounded to me like an entree at a jihadist training camp.

Down the beach in Fort Lauderdale a few nights ago, we saw how the local turtles managed to turn out the lights on a classy beachfront wedding. I asked our server why the hundred or so guests at the fancy wedding dinner on an adjacent patio by the water were eating in the dark, except for some small candles on the tables, most of which were being repeatedly blown out by the breeze.

"We're required to turn off all the outside lights from March through October because the light messes up the turtles' sense of direction during breeding season," he explained. "We even have to turn around the TV screens in the bar so their light can't be seen from the ocean. People camp out on the beach at midnight to monitor the hotel's lights and turn us in if we're in non-compliance."

About the Author

Ralph R. Reiland is the B. Kenneth Simon professor of free enterprise and an associate professor of economics at Robert Morris University in Pittsburgh.

Letter to the Editor View all comments (21) | Leave a comment

Alan Brooks| 3.17.11 @ 7:55AM

"awk. Polly wanna a better GOP. awk"

Dixie Pixie| 3.17.11 @ 10:10AM

At those room prices noisy parrots are a feature not an error.

Mark Shepler| 3.17.11 @ 11:21AM

Growing up in the 60's and 70's I never saw parrots in FL nor a whole host of other non-native creatures. I remember the first time I did in the mid-90's. I was playing golf in western Broward county (Ft. Lauderdale area) and heard a great commotion by a tee. I was amazed to see a flock of green pollys flying and walking around on the ground and generally sqawking up a storm. A few things surprised me. First, that they can fly and fly very fast. I'd only previously seen them in cages with little, clipped wings. Secondly, how loud and continuous is their chatter. They never shut up and only increase their volume if you approach them. Third, they are pretty fearless in flocks and don't scare off. There are now great flocks ranging throughout S. Florida and the story has it they mostly descend from those turned loose from the Parrot Jungle, an old-timey road side tourist attraction south of Miami, by Hurricane Andrew in '92.

Since then the number of alien creatures has only increased. We now have Burmese pythons in the Everglades, Boas, mambas and other deadly snakes, lizards, birds, rodents and other furry creatures that somehow hitched a ride or were released from pet bondage into the wild. There is a new lizard in these parts that can grow to about 8" of solid looking muscle, has a curly tail, is very fast and is carnivorous. His chief prey? The zillions of little, unoffending native Anoles- a charming, lithe little lizard who grows to about 4", eats bugs and can change color. They are often mistakenly called chamelions but won't be called anything for long. To them he is like a ferocious T-Rex moved into the neighborhood and thanks to him they are on the way out. Their extermination will have bang-on effects because many other critters and birds depend on the Anoles as a dietary staple. And there is now a gaggle of Iguanas lounging in a tree outside my office, just west of the Breakers, that grow to some 5' or so. They look like a fearsome dinosaur and can put on a show of aggression but are in fact, laid back, vegetarian loafers who will skedaddle at first alarm.

I once heard a biology professor call S. Florida a term I cannot remember. He explained that the environment is essentially neutral to most living things, plant or animal, and if anything that creepeth or crawleth upon the earth can get here it can survive here. And since it won't have any natural predators, it will more than likely come to dominate. I have seen it over the years. And that goes for those pretty Australian Pines too, Mr. Reiland. Australian pines were actually imported here deliberately about 100 years ago, along with Melaleuca trees, in a wacky effort to dry up wetlands. They absorb massive quantities of water from the ground each day. Palm Beach county has regulations forbidding the planting of them and mandating that any be cleared off land approved for development or redevelopment, including residential housing. I like them though, they are pretty and give wonderful shade but I especially like the sound of the breeze through them. So long as The Breakers stands as it is so too can those pines, otherwise they would have to go.

S. Florida is always an interesting place. If it's not the varied people from all over the planet, it's the growing parade of creatures that pop up to astonish us natives.

mbd| 3.17.11 @ 1:26PM

While melaleucas were imported for the purpose of drying up wetlands - and are notoriously invasive - the Australian pine (or beefwood) was originally used agriculturally as a windbreak. If trimmed, it can also be used as a hedge plant ( as the Breakers did around its tennis courts and as many Palm Beach estates still do). It is nowhere near as invasive as the melaleuca or the Brazilian pepper, but it does get the econazis exercised. It is, of course, not a true pine.

Mark Shepler| 3.17.11 @ 1:33PM

Thanks for that. I never thought the Australian pine was a problem and actually a boon. God knows we can use all the decent shade we can get. Aside from ficus trees, another non-native invasive tree, and oaks here and there our natural flora gives paltry shade. I have about 60 native scrub pine on my property and don't like 'em much. They're practically useless for shade and very brittle in a storm. They're only good in numbers whereas just a few strategically placed Australians can shade very effectively.

mbd| 3.17.11 @ 2:49PM

They can be vulnerable in a serious hurricane due to their rather shallow root structure. Perhaps the largest grove of them in the state was that which surrounded the Cape Florida lighthouse - before Andrew. We had several impressive specimens next to our house which went down in the 50's - fortunately they fell away from the house.

Mark Shepler| 3.17.11 @ 3:16PM

Too, true. I'm no botanist or even much of a yard man but isn't that fair to say about most of our flora? I know my scrub pines looked they suffered artillery bursts in the crowns, if they still had one, after the direct hits of Francis, Jean and Wilma we suffered in Jupiter. I used to have about 90 tree before that.

I lived in Weston in Broward in '92, about 10 miles north of where Andrew was first projected to come in along the county line. It was also the same span as SW 152 St and Country Walk from where it did come in at Homestead where I managed to reach next day to take my gathered survival supplies to my clients. That was as far south as I could go due to the devastation and the coming night. I instinctively knew I had to get out of there before dark. While I drove south on the Turnpike I was gripped with a weird sense of unfamiliar horizons until I realized it was because just about everything that stood any height above the ground, man made or natural, was smashed, knocked down or simply gone. I'll always remember that had it come in at the line my neighborhood would have looked like Country Walk both built on the quick and cheap by Arvida I might add. It was totally clogged with downed Austrailian pines and many houses were off their foundations.

So, what could stand against an Andrew? I've been here all my life and never suffered direct hits until those three in Jupiter. I could live another 50 years here and never suffer another hit. As I tell non-Floridians when they bang on about hurricanes, I'll take those odds with random storms instead of winter every year for sure. And along the way not worry about the rest of a storm's fallout. Regards. :)

mbd| 3.17.11 @ 4:45PM

Yes, I was surprised after Francis - a relatively weak but long-lived storm - at the number of live oaks that went down : since they are native, one would assume that they would survive. However, the height of the Australian pines (some over 100 feet) increases the scope of risk.

Pat Holtschlag| 3.17.11 @ 12:36PM

God bless His green cheeked parrots as they thrive in tropical Florida!

Mark Shepler| 3.17.11 @ 1:01PM

Yes, indeed.

I once heard some "chickens" clucking beneath the window of a client. Turned out they were huge, $4,000 Red Macaws in cages under which chickens roamed and the magnificent birds had learned to imitate. Their natural screech would wake the dead not to mention having a bite that could easily remove a finger and I cannot understand how anyone would want one around.

At the time that client lived in Homestead, FL, the epicenter of Hurricane Andrew and I often wondered if those comically talented birds and their progeny are roosting in the trees down there.

Jamieos| 3.17.11 @ 3:08PM

In 1980 these cute little green parrots would flock (swarm?) at sunset on Lido Drive in Ft. Lauderdale where my mother lived. People there thought they escaped from the airport where they had arrived from Latin America somewhere. Now Ft. Lauderdale is 40 miles from the Breakers, so I don't think those birds came from Palm Beach or went back there at night to sleep at the Breakers. Makes a good story though.

As for Australian pines - yes they are nice and "Old Florida" looking, and perhaps the econuts will change their minds - that would be the day!

Floyd Looney| 3.17.11 @ 3:10PM

lol. I'm not rich so this is as close as I'll get. Plus I never go anywhere that has a "mandated gratuity", AKA: a tax.

Floyd Looney| 3.17.11 @ 3:11PM

I guess no one has ever thought of planting more of those trees?

Mark Shepler| 3.17.11 @ 3:26PM

Can't. It's an "invasive" non-native tree and is prohibited from further planting. Any that exist must be eradicated if you wish to develop raw land or re-develop a property before you pass inspection. If you have any on a property you are not required to remove them, unless you plan major additions or redevelop. That is why The Breakers can keep theirs but no more are allowed.

Seek| 3.17.11 @ 6:46PM

I find parrots to be remarkable, stunning birds. One can observe them for hours and not get tired.

Mark Shepler| 3.18.11 @ 11:35AM

Nor get to sleep if he was. They are of the class of things in this world that are wonderful to behold...at distance. Up close and in numbers they are remarkable and stunning alright but welcomed, no.

SFCUSARet| 3.17.11 @ 10:07PM

I remember when I was stationed on the Atlantic side of Panama, and would fish in Gatun Lake. The mackaw's and parrot's would fly overhead, and the howler monkey's would boom from the jungle at the shore line. And the peacock bass were always there to jerk my fishing line. Those were the days, folks.