The Great Chimpanzee Migration

hope and joy at journey’s end

Story and photos by Sarah Ause
Best Friends Magazine, May/June 2009

For decades they lived in cramped cages, the sad subjects of medical testing. But now, these 266 chimps are on their way to a life of sunshine and freedom in Florida. What does a chimpanzee retirement home look like? From their viewpoint, a lot like paradise.

I’m standing in front of an island, under the blinding Florida sun and a blue sky. Just ahead, a group of chimpanzees lounges in the shade, taking cover from the sweltering mid-day heat. There is no fence between us, only water and blades of tall green grass.

The animals groom each other, nap and pick grass with their human-like fingers. Chimps share more than 98 percent of their DNA with humans. As I look at their expressions, bodies, and mannerisms, I think about whether they are close to being human, or if we are just close to being chimps.

This island life of sun, grass and water is new to these animals and a far cry from the metal cages, needles and darkness they endured for decades. In the 1960s, many of these chimps were captured as babies in Africa for use in the United States Air Force space program. Others were born and raised in labs strictly for use in biomedical testing, or were raised for entertainment but then sold to research facilities when they got older and became too strong for trainers to handle. Their endless cycle of being poked, prodded and tested on continued for 40 years, long after the Air Force gave up using chimps in its research.

Despite their different beginnings, these chimps all ended up at the same place: the Coulston Foundation, a New Mexico biomedical testing laboratory with a horrid record of violating the Animal Welfare Act. In 2002, on the verge of bankruptcy after losing government funding, Coulston agreed to sell its lab to the Florida-based rescue group Save the Chimps. Along with its facilities, Coulston “donated” all 266 of its chimpanzees to the group, which already had 21 chimps previously owned by Coulston.

Save the Chimps has been expanding its property near Fort Pierce, Florida to accommodate the new arrivals. The 12 islands are now complete, and the chimps are making the move. The Great Chimpanzee Migration, as it has been dubbed, brings up to ten chimps at a time from the former Coulston facility in New Mexico to their new island home in sunny Florida. To date, more than half have been moved.

Back at the Coulston facility, conditions have vastly improved under the direction of Save the Chimps. The animals can move around and interact with each other. Their diet, once strictly dry monkey kibble, now includes fresh fruit and vegetables. And the staff is providing the chimps with activities vital to their mental wellbeing. They paint pictures, play with toys and search for hidden treats.

Started by Dr. Carole Noon in 1997, Save the Chimps has become the largest chimp sanctuary in the world. Noon knows the animals all by name, recognizing their differences in appearance and personality.

After a 4,000-mile journey, a group of chimps has just arrived in Florida. Caregivers and other staff gather around as each chimp is unloaded from a custom-built trailer and released into the building attached to their island. Hand-decorated posters hang on the outside wall, greeting Ariel, Ritt, Katie and Emily to their new home. This migration marks a milestone: There are now more chimps in Florida than at the New Mexico facility.

The new arrivals will stay inside the building for a few weeks to help accustom them to their new surroundings. Then the door will open—and will stay open.

When the doors first opened for Tanya, who was born in Africa, she reached down and touched grass for the first time in more than 40 years. When it was Carlos’s turn, he elbowed two chimps beside him, ran outside, ran back inside to hug one of his friends, then went off to explore. Others take more time to adjust. It took O’Dell more than a year to venture past the pavement and into the grass.

“This isn’t easy,” says Noon. “They’ve lived in boxes, forever. And when I open that door, and I don’t ask them anything, I give them the choice. Do you want to sit in the box, or do you want to go sit in the sun? And they decide. A simple choice is something they never had before. The sum total of what we’ve done is given them a choice.”

From across the water, a mother chimp seems to smile at me. Her young one clings to her while chewing a on a piece of grass. To prevent captive breeding, all of the males here have had vasectomies, but the surgery sometimes fails. But these young ones are spared the lives of their parents. They will not suffer at the hands of humans and in the name of science. They will spend their days climbing in trees, soaking in sunshine, and eating fresh fruit and veggies. They will live a life closest to what they were meant to, and I think that perhaps this is why the mother chimp smiles.