[ Not so much "where I've been. What I've seen" in this blog post... but "Where I've been. Mentally.]

Let me be clear. Immediately.

I am no subscriber to the “intelligent design” club.

Nor the “creationism” club (I happen to think these two clubs are pretty-well identical despite the protestations from the Discovery Institute.)

In all of my wildlife musings and witterings I do try exceptionally hard to never use such phrases as “the natural order of things” (this is bordering on theism to me, theism and design in fact) and “balanced ecosystem(s)” (suggests strongly a static equilibrium – but that is only a snapshot of a very fluid system indeed – nothing static about it).

So... do I believe in God?

In a word.... NO.

But.

Let’s jusssssst for one minute say there IS a God. (Bear with me, grapple fans)

A creator if you will.

And this “creator” designed the world around us – including “all creatures great and small” within that world.

So. Did this god design his (her?) creatures with ‘intelligence’?

Or was it all a bit of a botched, rushed job as a result of “God” giving himself only two days to design and create ALL the earth’s creatures?

This is after all, the fundamental Christian stance – “On day 5 God created the fowl and water-dwelling creatures and on day 6 he designed all the land-based animals and human beings”

Do you think he might now regret not at least giving himself day 7 to look at what he’d gawn done and making some changes - correcting some schoolboy errors (instead of hanging his sandals up in a pretty self-satisfied manner... "and he saw that it was good" )?

 Let’s face it; he had all the time in the world didn’t he?  He made time after all. He could have at least spent one more day making sure everything “worked ok” before leaving us all to it? No?

Right.

Time to get to work...

If I was given the power to make three changes to any of the world’s animals as part of my own “intelligent design” internship (I expect a call any day now), they would be as below.... (Don’t worry... your chance will come)...

Number 1 – I’d re-wire swifts’ brains. I’d give them the ability to read.

Swift

Oh NOOoooo Doug. Not bleeding swifts again?

Yep – this is my go. You wait your turn.

Look... I think swifts are the best birds of all.

They’re fantastic.

But. (Come closer....sssshhhh)....  they’re a bit, errrr..... dumb?

I’ve had a fair amount of success attracting and filming nesting swifts at a couple of our (my wife’s and my) houses over the past few years – but (as you may know) I’ve struggled recently and at great expense (£).

I’ve designed and built a veritable plethora of swift houses at our new gaff, both inside the house (accessible through tunnels drilled through the attic wall) - and outside (with entrance holes in various spots on the boxes – on the side, bottom and front).

I’ve designed swift attracting CDs (calls from breeding swifts played in a suitable loop), and bought wireless, shower-proof speakers to play these calls from.

I’ve installed mini HD infra red cameras into these swift homes and spent days on the roof of our house ensuring everything they (the swifts) needed was in place – and right up their street.

I’ve probably spent about £1000 on swifts over the last two years and double that over the last eight or so years.

That’s how much I like swifts and like trying to help them.

Each year the swifts arrive at the end of April or beginning of May – and each year they steadfastly refuse to enter any of my boxes and breed. This year they virtually ignored our offerings completely.  [I nearly swore then].

Now this isn’t because my swift hotels are badly sited, nor unsuitable. Not at all. Au contraire, mes amis.

This is because swifts, quite simply, don’t know what’s good for them.  They’re dumb.

Swifts tend to occupy very traditional nesting sites, in pre-war buildings and are very loyal to those sites. They don’t like change and are slow to seek out and find (and accept) new nest spots. They have even been known to fight to the death over traditional, old, favoured nesting sites.

Oh sure.... they can be tempted to start nesting or indeed begin breeding in new spots (and ideal spots at that) but they need calling down from the skies (swift call CDs don’t half annoy neighbouring humans!) and even then it may be years before the swifts finally check out new pastures, if they do so at all.

You may be thinking here that I need some patience – and half the fun is the thrill of the chase – the anticipation of it all. You may be right of course – but I have a suggestion.

Instead of playing CDs of loud swift calls at the right time of day (before your neighbours have got up generally, in May and then again at dusk) to attract swifts in to your carefully-erected and sited swift homes – I’d suggest giving the swifts an ability to read.

Look. I’m not suggesting swifts should fly around with a copy of the latest Harry Potter under their wing, (they’d crash of course) – but if I painted the letters “S W I F T S” in black paint on the outside of my swift boxes – I would like them to see that word and therefore immediately recognise that the owner of the house was providing a suitable spot for them to nest in.

No need for CDs. Or batteries. Or expensive wireless, shower proof speakers (which incidentally have to be placed on the boxes, 6m in the air – which means an expensive ladder to consider also).

We’re informed that swifts need our help. In fact the only rear windscreen sticker I have on my car at present is Swift Conservation’s “I’m helping swifts – are you? Find out how at Swiftconservation.org”. And they do need our help – desperately.

I do love swifts and I AM trying to help them.

But come on now swifties – I’d like you to help yourselves too please – throw me a bone here for Pete’s sake!

So there you have it – my number one “change of design” would be giving swifts the ability to read.

Number 2 – I’d ensure all young turtle tasted revolting – poisonous even.

My wife and I have had the great pleasure of taking a few holidays in “turtle hot spots”. In fact after our last holiday (3 years ago) in rural Turkey, it dawned on us that we’d ALWAYS taken holidays with turtles.

Sri Lanka. Green turtles.

The Maldives. Ditto.

Greek Islands. Loggerheads.

Turkey. Ditto.

Turtles, turtles everywhere.

We all love turtles don’t we?

Of course we do... and that’s half the problem.

Turtles and tortoises are famously tasty. As (allegedly) are their eggs.

But they’re not just tasty to us – young turtles are a defenceless, slow-moving soft, fleshy, tasty packet of nutritious protein to pretty-well everything on their nesting beaches.

Turtles hatch from their beach-buried eggs and all head slowly and clumsily down to the sea as soon as they can. Very often they’ll do this at night (they get their bearings often by heading towards moonlight shimmering on the surface of the sea). A nocturnal first journey will save them from many predators of course (birds in the main) but mammals (jackals, foxes, dogs etc) will take them as will other predators – some crabs for example.

Quite often though, many turtles don’t hatch until dawn and have to run the (beach to sea) gauntlet surrounded by big-beaked gulls or frigate birds or corvids or any other manner of hungry predators.

Many “fledgling” turtles don’t even make it to the sea. What a waste.

Even if they do make it to the sea, they’re there for the taking for pretty-well any fish or seabird that fancies a bit of tasty grub. Everything wants a piece of baby turtle.

Turtles take approximately 3-5 years to become “juveniles” – dinner plate sized. These years are often called “the lost years” as little is known about them. From then it may be another twenty to FIFTY years before they become sexually active – ready to breed - if they’re not first snagged in trawler nets (for example).

I just feel sorry for the poor things.

It is estimated that only 1 in 1000 turtle hatchlings survive to adulthood.  I wouldn’t walk into any Victor Chandler and place a bet on a turtle. Not at those odds. No chance.

Whilst I appreciate that my wife and I might be slightly biased when it comes to turtles (and swifts for that matter) – I’d like to even up the odds for our delightful baby turtles.

I’d immediately make all turtle eggs taste foul (to anything that digs them up to eat – and that includes humans) and make the hatching turtles taste even worse – perhaps even to the point of being toxic –deadly to potential predators. This poison would slowly dissipate over the first half dozen of years or a turtle’s life, so that eventually they wouldn’t be toxic at all.

“But that would take away their charm wouldn’t it?” I hear you cry.

“Their ‘Aaah’ factor”.

“Their cute, defenceless, harmless nature”.

Again – you may well be right – but I don’t happen to agree.

My wife and I were lucky enough to be allowed to release some hatchling green turtles into the Indian Ocean on our honeymoon in Sri Lanka and the lil things were incredibly cute (yes... I said it... “cute”), flapping their way down the beach into the froth. I dare say if they were poisonous, they would have looked just as delightful – but perhaps not after you bit into one, granted.

You might also say that if young turtles were poisonous, they’d have hardly any predators and we’d soon be overrun by them.

Fine by me.

Dandy in fact.

Right. 

So.

1 - Give swifts the ability to read.

2 - Make young turtles poisonous.

That’s two down.

One to go then....

Number 3 – I’d make humans lay eggs... rather than stay as placental mammals

Look. I’m a bloke. And I don’t want to get all new-age man “Savage Garden” (“I believe that beauty magazines promote low self esteem” etc etc etc....) on yo ass, but come on.... really?

Laydeez, you’ll know far better than me of course, but I’d suggest the human female anatomy (or more specifically, the human female pelvic arrangement) is not a great piece of apparatus to deliver large-headed, long-limbed youngster effectively or efficiently or in a low(ish) risk way.

The (make believe) ‘intelligent designer’ really got this wrong, I’m afraid.

What I propose as my final change to the *cough* intelligent designer’s errors – is to ensure adult female human beings lay eggs instead of carry a developing foetus for 9 months and then deliver  (with luck) said baby in a long-winded, incredibly painful, very risky way.

Think of the advantages!

 There would be no restrictions (sensible or not so) on mothers during the care of her developing young – she could stuff her face with pate and shellfish and drink alcohol.

There’d be no back problems, no piles, no swollen ankles and no morning sickness.

If I ensured the human egg was the conical shape of a seabird’s egg (so as to avoid rolling off cliff ledges -something like a guillemot's egg in shape at least), prospective parents could just pop it on a high shelf under a suitable heat lamp (set to 'warm', rather than 'cook') and just turn it occasionally.

Birth would be pain-free and quick.

I am not saying it should be a big (ostrich-sized?) egg.

Something like a swan’s egg.

That sort of size.

I mean.... you could even buy (or hire!) a mini incubator to protect your developing egg(s).

Maybe the time from “laying” to “hatching” might  not take 9 months and you’d be left with a TINY baby when it did hatch – but that’s be fine – you’d just have to be a bit careful for a while.

And it would be a pain-free, stress-free, sheer delight for both parents – watching their egg (or eggs – I’m a triplet after all) hatch on the kitchen table.

I guess there’ll be some blokes reading this who took great pleasure in being present for the birth of their young and even looked on with great interest at the urrmmmm “business end” during the event.

I can certainly appreciate that, but I wasn’t one of those fathers. Sure I was in theatre with my wife (that’s the hospital rather than the London Palladium), but I stayed at the ‘safe end’ and don’t think I made a bad choice as it happens.

These days, very often at least, working expectant mothers don’t stop work until a few weeks before they are due to “drop”. Maternity leave proper is for the last month(ish) of pregnancy and for the first few months after birth generally – so that wouldn’t need to change.

Any disadvantages then?

Not that I can envisage.

Perhaps you’d have to ensure you lay your egg onto a cushion for example (although you could probably lay into your hands if you’re quick enough).

Nope.

It’s a win win WIN situation.

What I’m saying is that I think humans should be more like monotremes (think of the Echidna or the Duck-billed platypus) which are egg-laying mammals after all.

The trouble with that... is that a monotreme has a single opening (duct) for urination, defaecation and reproduction.

A cloaca.

That (In fact) is what “monotreme” means - from the Greek μονός monos "single" + τρῆμα trema "hole".

Hmmmm.... That wouldn’t be acceptable I’m afraid – the placental mammalian way of three “openings” is better. Clearly.

 So I’d not change that. We remain with three ducts!  We might be known as “trio-tremes”!

The only other drawback (perhaps) to turning humans into egg-laying mammals (but 3 opening “trio-tremes” instead of the one-holed monotremes) is that whilst egg-laying mammals (monotremes) do lactate in a mammalian way,  they tend not to exhibit nipples of any description, nor teats / breasts / udders  etc. (Forgive the basic language).

So that’s another thing that would not change. Not on your nelly. 

Again... I just happen to be a bloke and a heterosexual bloke at that... so it would be just the eggs thing.

Nothing else needs to change thanks.

The ‘boy (God) done good’ in every other respect there.

Phew.

We’re all done. (Finally!)

1 - Give swifts the ability to read.

2 - Make young turtles poisonous.

3 – Humans should lay eggs.

If you’ve managed to scrabble through the vast jumble of words above, firstly congratulations and secondly you may find faults with my choices. Many I expect. Especially with the last one?!  That's fine (I can see a few faults myself as it happens, but hey ho).

Now.

It’s over to you.
 

I am pleased to immediately bestow on you the supreme, omnipresent, paranormal power to change three “intelligent designs” in the zoological world.

You can do better than me I’m sure.

Have a chew on it eh?

Then, fill your boots.

I’m off.