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Riggs the flying fox is set free after being found on an Oil Rig in Bass Strait.
Oil rig workers save lost bat after he flew too far from land,
HANGING out on an oil rig nearly 100km out to sea might be bat crazy.
But Riggs, the unflappable flying fox, proved he is no dingbat after weathering weeks stranded in Bass Strait.
It’s believed the endangered juvenile, who had recently left his mother, sought refuge when he was blown off course in a storm. He was eventually rescued and made his way to safety as hand luggage in a luxe new helicopter.
Riggs was found hanging around on an oil rig Kingfish B in Bass Strait.
Esso Australia installation manager Colin Densley said Riggs was in a bad way when he was spotted clinging for his life on July 26.
“The bat would land on one of the handrails to rest before taking off again,” he said.
“By Friday it had moved to a location against one of the buildings that was less exposed to the weather and the crew noticed it wasn’t flying around anymore.
“The crew realised Riggs wasn’t going to able to fly the 77km back to shore without help.”
Esso called in one of its air-conditioned AW139 helicopters to transport the distressed bat.
Meanwhile, rig workers fed their unlikely co-worker kiwifruit, bananas and apples, his favourite until help arrived.
Night shift operator Dave Fortune used cardboard to build a special “bat box” to house Riggs during his flight home. It even included a fixed rope inside to hang from.
Riggs was given into the care of the Joey and Bat Sanctuary in Heidelberg Heights and nursed back to health.
Carer Julie Malherbe said the hard-as-nails traveller was in good condition given how long he was stuck at sea.
“Riggs had a small wound on his wing, was a little dehydrated and underweight but was clearly well looked after on the rig,” she said.
Riggs was released back into the wild this month.
Riggs was found on an oil rig in Bass Strait being cared for by Julie Malherbe.
On a typical evening in her Heidelberg unit, Julie Malherbe will be on the couch watching a Downton Abbey box set with her family. So far, so normal – until, with a sudden screech and flapping of wings, one of the bats roosting on the clothes rack beside the telly makes a flying lunge for her. “We call it a crash landing,” she laughs. She has scratches all over her from their claws seeking a firm hold, but that’s OK, they’re only looking for affection. They see her as their mother.
Malherbe, 45, has spent four years fostering flying foxes orphaned by power lines or backyard netting. She bottle-feeds them six times a day, moisturises their wings with baby lotion and keeps them stimulated with kids’ toys. In the wild, mother bats would lick them clean but “I draw the line at that”. At a couple of months old they go to an aviary before being released into the flying fox colony at Melbourne’s Yarra Bend Park.
Letting go is bittersweet, Malherbe says; it’s tremendously fulfilling to raise these animals – vital pollinators for native trees – but empty nest syndrome is on constant rotation. She often goes down to Yarra Bend to watch the colony fly out at dusk, wondering which ones among the thousands are her babies.
Malherbe’s husband Francois and daughter Tyla, 21, with whom she emigrated from Johannesburg six years ago, in part to escape the violent crime, don’t bat an eyelid. What about neighbours and visitors? Well, only people who are vaccinated for lyssavirus are allowed into the unit anyway, and on the front door there’s a sign: Do not enter. Baby bats learning to fly. “It’s a great way of keeping cold callers away,” she chuckles.
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