A Step Away from King Kong

Only those who know and understand gorillas well, and they are but a privileged few, can even begin to appreciate the qualities of this remarkable species.
In captivity many factors influence the way they are managed. The practical and financial constraints are numerous, but even when these are minimal, intelligent and sensitive great apes like the gorilla with their complex and varied personalities can markedly influence plans that are made for them. In addition to the effects of individual history and temperament, relationships within a group change constantly as births take place, maturity is reached, and some animals leave the group whilst others are recruited.
Although much can be learned generally by closely monitoring group behaviour, establishing a relationship based on a mutual trust with each member is both essential to good management, and for gaining a better understanding of the individual. Key to the success of achieving this mutual transfer of trust is exercising patience, and the communicatory abilities of the keeper. Whilst some gorillas invite familiarity, others may initially be reluctant to do so, and subsequently will require more time to become accustomed to changes be they surroundings, conspecifics or keeping staff.
Over the 40 years or so that I have worked with gorillas I have learned considerably more from them than I could possibly teach them. However what I do try to convey when in their presence is confidence, but also a reassurance coupled with my deepest empathy and respect. Given that in gorilla society the most profound communications are often mute, actions and posture are all subject to interpretation, and subsequently are of equal significance to any vocalisation. Of the 15 different recognised sounds that comprise the vocal repertoire of the gorilla, those most commonly heard are the "belch grumble" emitted in the anticipation of food or denoting contentment, the "cough grunt" signifying annoyance or mild aggression, screams, barks and/or high pitched roars in the event of a squabble, and hoot vocalisations which in the case of an adult male will often culminate in a display bout of tension-releasing chest beating. Gorillas are also playful and surprisingly ticklish, regardless of age or status, and boisterous bond-strengthening interactions will invariably produce audible "chuckles" and "gurgles" of pleasure.
Being able to mimic a gorilla vocalisation that is relevant to a particular situation can serve to enhance communication, but more often than not the recognisable sound of a trusted keeper's voice is sufficient. Once familiar with their names gorillas will respond to being called as they will to certain commands or enticements. This is not to give the impression that they will unthinkingly cooperate, although for the most part I have found that the majority tend be responsive to a good natured, patient, and common sense approach.
Much of my keeping experience has been literally "hands on", and being able to share the company of gorillas in their enclosure remains both an ultimately satisfying experience, and an habitual lesson in humility for me. When in close proximity to any of my gorillas, whether inside or outside the enclosure I always offer the courtesy of a greeting with either a belch grumble or with some appropriate flattery, and the acknowledgement, usually a deep resonant grumble, is nearly always instantaneous. At other times the response may be of a more subtle nature, a brief glance or a brush of a shoulder, but sufficient to indicate a comfortable awareness of my presence. With younger individuals the response is often an immediate invitation to play, and these highly enjoyable moments are invaluable for initiating the basis on which to form a solid relationship for the future.
By contrast, tense or stressful situations can test fully the relationship between gorilla and keeper especially when human intervention is required. Despite being predominantly good natured, gorillas will often react impulsively, and although I have, albeit vainly, always strived to become a human extension within their society, I have never been, or considered myself to be, above reprimand, either vocal or physical. Emotionally upsetting or excruciatingly painful as these rare agonistic encounters can be, I have never experienced long-term resentment. On the contrary, in many cases after the event the resumption of trust has been almost immediate.
Although I have been reluctant to include anecdotal accounts I will describe one of the most difficult and emotionally charged incidents I have experienced. It was the day I had to remove the dead body of the then oldest female N'Pongo from the group. It was late summer, and some of the gorillas, mostly females and their offspring had been left with overnight access to their 2,000 m² outside enclosure. 42 year old N'Pongo had been off colour for several days, and on medication, but despite her illness she had showed a marked preference for remaining in the group. On the morning of 24th September, 1999, I arrived to find that she had passed away, and her condition suggested that death had been recent. She was surrounded by the females and young including her own daughter, and grand offspring all of whom were clearly stressed by her demise.
All efforts to coax them inside were ignored as they were entirely focussed on the inert form of the founder female, and so I had no choice but to attempt to retrieve her body in their presence. I entered the area with a wheel barrow and a scatter feed in the hope that I could distract at least some of them, but this was not to be. At my approach N'Pongo's daughter, 11 year old Hlala Kahilli, and her half sister Sakina, then 13 years of age, began strutting and cough grunting, then Sakina shoulder-charged the barrow knocking it over.
I spoke to them constantly, and also used frequent belch grumbles in an attempt to reassure them, and continued with the barrow towards N'Pongo who was lying on her back about half way down the enclosure. Kishka, one of the gentlest gorillas I have known, and who had become the dominant female about 2 years earlier walked silently beside me, and when Sakina attempted a second strutting run in my direction she confronted her daughter with cough grunts forcing her to retreat. On reaching N'Pongo I bent down to examine her; her body was still supple, but cool to the touch. She was heavy to move, but age and illness had taken toll of her weight, and by turning the barrow on to its side, rolling her in to it, and then pushing it back upright I was ready to transport her out of the area.
But during my efforts to lift her mother, Hlala Kahilli again began cough grunting and promptly mouthed me severely around the small of my back; when I turned, reciprocating her vocal threat she let out a scream, but then suddenly redirected her aggression onto Sakina and a brief squabble ensued. Kishka intervened immediately by chasing both the younger females off, and so I took the opportunity to make my way to the service door, which was being manned by one of my staff. From a short distance away Hlala Kahilli commenced a series of mournful hoots as I was closely escorted on route by Kishka who movingly reached out and touched one of N'Pongo's limp arms as if testing for a last reaction. I spoke to her, and grumbled several times, but she remained silent. Hlala Kahilli, clearly the most distraught, continued to call, which in turn was taken up by her three and a half year old son Mapema who until the squabble had erupted had virtually shadowed my every move, showing particular interest when I was examining N'Pongo.
Before making my exit I offered the remainder of the scatter feed, which was accepted by Kishka and Sakina, and despite the latter still visibly trembling with emotion both emitted belch grumbles before moving off. Administering the feed that evening, I was aware that the group, including our silverback Ya Kwanza, were still extremely unsettled by N'Pongo's absence.
I made a point of staying late, and spent much of my time making a fuss of Hlala Kahilli. Despite my actions of earlier that day her behaviour was quite reconciliatory. The bite she inflicted I described as mouthing, as whilst still painful, it lacked power and seemed more of a token reprimand, which given the circumstances was at the least remarkable. When interacting with them the gorillas' restraint of power has always impressed me, it's almost as if they sense that physically they are superior, yet, although capable of great ferocity, it is not in their nature to be aggressive without good reason.
In 1986, Jambo, the Trust's much-loved silverback, became world-famous for the gentle behaviour he exhibited towards a 5-year-old boy who had fallen into the gorilla enclosure. It was a display that suggested genuine concern was being shown for a fellow creature, and one that helped dispel the myth of gorillas as fearsome and ferocious. It came across as such a powerful image and story that it will surely endure for all time, and with it the memory of a truly gentle giant. Ten years later a similar occurrence took place in Chicago's Brookfield Zoo, when a boy was recovered from the gorilla compound by a young female gorilla named Binti Jua by carrying the unconscious 3-year-old to a service door, and handing him to keeping staff.
The naturally relaxed and inoffensive behaviour demonstrated by Jambo and his family throughout the original incident helped to confirm the arguments of experts who had long maintained that gorillas are not the monsters of popular myth. In the words of internationally renowned television zoologist, Sir David Attenborough: "Human beings grow up with the notion of beauty and the beast and that was the theme successfully traded on by films like King Kong … Sadly logic shows us that the exact opposite actually applies. It is human beings who are the aggressive primates!"

Richard Johnstone-Scott

Other contributions:

Martha Robbins

Juichi Yamagiwa

James Byamukama and Stephen Asuma

Raymond Corbey

Colin Groves

Kelly Stewart

Overview
 

Richard Johnstone-Scott spent 10 years at Howletts Zoo Park. In 1979 he returned to Jersey and was promoted in 1997 to Head of Mammals.

Gorillas in general - overview

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