‘There were a lot of tears shed’ – staff remember ‘cheeky’ orangutan Sibu, who has died after 40 years at Dublin Zoo

“God almighty, there was a lot of tears shed,” Ciaran McMahon, Dublin Zoo’s team leader, said. “I tried to be strong for the team but that broke down. Everyone was just heartbroken. We had tea and sat down and talked about the good times and what a character he was. In my 30-year career, it’s a unique moment that will be for ever ingrained in my mind.”

Gerry Creighton, former head of operations at Dublin Zoo – where he worked for 37 years – was working in the United Arab Emirates when the phone call came in telling him his buddy of 40 years was gone.

Mr Creighton (56) was 15 when he went to collect five-year-old Sibu and his mate Leonie, at Dublin Airport in an old Hiace van with his zookeeper dad Gerry Senior and zoo driver Noel Duffy.

“Me and Sibu hit it off straight away – I was a redhead and he was a redhead and I think he thought: ‘Maybe he’s my brother’,” said Mr Creighton.

“He was tiny, with this beautiful cheeky face and big massive hands. I played with them in the back of the van with Dad. They needed a hug after all the travelling – they were hand-reared and loved human company.”

Young Gerry and Sibu learned the ropes at Dublin Zoo together.

“He was always doing bold things,” said Mr Creighton. “He’d open up the keepers’ lunch bags to see who had the nicest sandwiches and he’d pick a jam sandwich over a ham sambo and see who had chocolates. He loved a sup of warm milky tea. We got him a steel cup from the camping shop as he dropped a few cups and he’d sit up in the chair, looking left and right, following the chat.”

Although Sibu – who was 45 when he died – lived out his later years in one of the world’s finest orangutan habitats following a €3m revamp at Dublin Zoo in 2016, in the early years the orangutans lived behind steel bars in basic, concrete enclosures.

“It was a very different era in zookeeping, we used to fill that void in their lives,” Mr Creighton said.

“I’d stay back on a summer’s evening and carry him round on my back or take him round by the hand. He used to love looking at all the other animals. We’d take him and Leonie out for hours and sit on the lawn.

"It was like WrestleMania, he used to love jumping on us and slam-dunking us – like having a boisterous little boy. He was such a vibrant personality, full of mischief, getting into bins, climbing over fences and making us go chasing after him.”

By the age of 10, Sibu had grown into an impressive 60kg male.

“Leonie would be looking for hugs and attention and Sibu used to get really annoyed, looking at me and my father and Liam Reid. We were literally like the love rivals – he’d pull her away from us by the hand, looking back, as if to say: ‘She’s my girl lads’.”

But Sibu didn’t let it come between them.

“If I went in and had a scratch on my hand, he’d investigate it in great detail, and very gently probe the cut, knowing it shouldn’t be there, putting his lips down to it – there was this kindness to him.”

But the time had come for Sibu to distance himself from humans and live among his own kind.

“He had the strength of three men and if he decided he didn’t want to go into the night area or say you’re not getting out, relationships might get strained – we often had to sit with him for an hour to tire him out.

“It got to the stage he was so strong and naturally would want to challenge us. We made a conscious decision to get him busier, give him more enrichment, spend more time with orangutans.

“He had such charisma and power and expression.

"He had the long red dreadlocks flowing down his back, a metre long off his shoulder, such a very powerful presence”.

Sibu lived with three females, Leonie, Riona and Majur.

“To see him develop into a proud male on that island was a pure joy, the old shackles of the past were gone and he had a full meaningful life, in a wonderful habitat with females and offspring – the zoo turned the corner and he was getting the respect they all deserve.

“We hand-raised one of his and Leonie’s daughters, Riona, at home with dad and James my brother [another zookeeper].

"We had her at home a year – we do things very differently now. She had long flowing red hair and I’d have her in the back of her car going to work in the baby seat. I’d be stopped at traffic lights – God knows what people thought.”

Two weeks ago, Mr Creighton decided to visit Dublin Zoo with his 12-year-old son, Zac, and he’s so glad he did.

“It was the first time I’d been there in many months. Sibu was sitting at the back and seen me and came over to the window and put his hand up and so did I.

“I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine, as if to say ‘howya buddy,’ like you do an old friend. I’ll treasure that moment.

“When I heard Sibu had died, I looked back at all the videos on my phone and thought of all the times I had with him and my dad over 40 years and had a cry.”

There are only around 57,000 Bornean orangutans left in the wild due to rainforests being destroyed for palm oil plantations.

Mr Creighton is urging people to boycott all food and beauty items that contain palm oil in memory of Sibu.