Rabies vaccine payload many years in the making

The cabin of theyellow 300 Twin Otter aircraft smells heavily of sweet vanillaand maple.It's a smell designed tolure small animals while masking thepayload ofrabies vaccines inside.

There are around 500,000 such "treats"waiting inside a chilledtrailerat the Fredericton airport. Tens ofthousandsof them aredroppedon the provinceevery timethe sweet-smelling plane leaves thetarmac.

Mike Allan, provincial rabies co-ordinator, said this is the second year of the program.

With 20 years experience in rabies vaccination programs, Allan has spent the last twoworking with the New Brunswick governmenttrying toget the number of rabies cases in the province down to zero.

Last year, there were 27 reported cases. This year, so far there has been one.

"We've got a great baitnow," said Allan in reference to thesmallgreen foil packages soaked in a tan, waxy coating.

"This works well on all three vector species.Originally, we didn't have that capability."

The sweet smelling bait is built like a small dairycreamer container. It's years of research that getsdropped out of the bottom of the yellow Otter plane via conveyor belt.

ONRABdeveloped in Canada and short for Ontario Rabies Vaccineis much moresuccessfulthanits predecessors, according to Allan.

Theoriginalair-dropped vaccine only targeted foxes.

But the new, smaller, vanilla-flavouredlures inoculatefoxes, raccoons and skunks, which are also known to be vector species for thevirus.

Plus, the old baits used a combination of codfishand chicken broth, something Allandescribesassignificantlyless pleasant in a confined plane cabin.

"They stunk," said Allan.

"We've evolved now to a state where this vaccine and bait works well on all three species."

The plane crew is contracted from the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources.

From the front of the plane, Beverly Stevenson, the co-ordinator, controls theconveyorbelt thatgovernmentworkers, and volunteersload up with hundreds of the vaccines.

Because the plane flies low, a few hundred feet above the ground, Stevenson is able to time the conveyorto avoid dropping vaccines onto roadways, waterways and backyards.

It's also a cost saving method since each tab costs about $2. Annually, the program costs around $1 million.

"We dostraightlines, then bank around and do another, back and forth," Stevenson said.

But the vaccines raining from the sky are no substitute for theveterinarianor a trip to the doctor.

"Even though they're harmless to people and to pets, we stillrecommendpeoplevaccinatingyour pets" said Allan.

"And enjoy nature from a distance."