Tale for the birds

Deepa Bharath

Outside Ski Meinschein’s seaside studio is a wooden plaque that reads

“Birdman of Newport.”

Meinschein takes that title seriously. The man, who jokingly said

he doesn’t “do numbers” when asked about his age, is a local

celebrity of sorts, who has entertained tourists and visitors at the

Newport Pier for decades with his macaws, Patagonian conures and

dusky lories from New Guinea.

He sold his birds and “retired” from his labor of love at the pier

for health reasons. But the Birdman’s love for the winged creatures

lives on.

This time Meinschein is courting cliff swallows from Argentina

that usually take a summer vacation in Orange County. They can be

seen in large numbers in San Juan Capistrano. But a pair of the

birds, a male and a female, have sought him out and pay him a visit

twice everyday, Meinschein said.

He first saw the swallows three years ago when he was standing on

the pier, he said.

“I clapped my hands three times,” Meinschein said, demonstrating

the way he put his hands together for the birds. “It was not a loud

clap. It was a soft one. I didn’t want to scare them.”

Last year, the Birdman saw the birds fly through the alley behind

his home, Meinschein said.

“And they’ve come back this year,” he said. “To me, it’s amazing.”

Meinschein could barely get off the chair and walk up to the

alley. He held on to his back and winced as he ambled out the door to

look at the birds. He knows they’ll be there at about 8 a.m. and hang

around for an hour or two. Then they’re back at about 6 p.m. and fly

around for an hour and a half, he said.

Meinschein stroked his long blond hair as he stood on the alley

and waited for the swallows to show up.

“They should be here any minute,” he said.

He bent down slightly and narrows his eyes, his long, white beard

tied up in two ponytails. A seashell necklace dangled from his neck.

“There he is!” Meinschein exclaimed as the swallow zoomed right

past him and out of sight.

“He’ll be back in a minute,” the Birdman said. “They fly pretty

fast.”

In less than a minute, the swallow returned. This time, Meinschein

clapped three times and called out to the bird: “Tut, tut, tut.”

The swallow seemed to make a loop in the air and then continued

wherever it was headed.

“Did you see that?” Meinschein asked, excited. “He heard me. He

saw me.”

Cliff swallows are definitely wild birds that don’t normally want

to be domesticated, said Sylvia Gallagher, bird information

chairwoman for the Sea and Sage Audubon, an Orange County chapter of

the National Audubon Society.

“They’re not even attracted to bird feeders or bird baths that

people leave outside,” she said. “They get their own food. They bring

their own mud for the nests. They build their own nests.”

They nest in large colonies, mostly under bridges that arch over

creeks where they can find enough mud to build their nests, Gallagher

said.

“Sometimes groups of three or four pairs of birds will live in a

small colony,” she said. “They may build a nest outside a home and

may come back to the same place the following year.”

She has never heard of anyone even attempting to train or tame

swallows, Gallagher said.

Meinschein said he hasn’t heard of it either. But that’s not going

to stop him from trying.

“I’m thinking about intensifying this training with the swallow,”

he said.

He says he wants the swallow “to do what it wants to do.”

“Birds want to be loved,” he said. “They want something more than

insects.”

Meinschein believes the swallows are visiting him because they

have a place in his heart.

“I understand them to a high degree,” he says. “I know how to

eliminate their fear.”

* DEEPA BHARATH is the enterprise and general assignment reporter.

She may be reached at (949) 574-4226 or by e-mail at

deepa.bharath@latimes.com.