60 Minutes has covered many high-profile crimes, but few as unusual as the thefts of Columba livia domestica — elite racing pigeons. These birds, bred to navigate back to their lofts from hundreds of miles away, now fetch prizes and sale prices in the millions, and that wealth has drawn organized thieves, nicknamed “the pigeon mafia.”
Flanders, in Belgium, is a center of pigeon racing, the equivalent of Kentucky for thoroughbreds. Tom Van Gaver is a celebrated breeder there, surrounded at home by trophies and pedigrees. Behind his modest house, in the loft, he keeps his true treasures: pigeons that can fly at highway speeds for hundreds of miles — feathered Ferraris whose offspring can sell for tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Van Gaver points to a bird named Finn, a superstar whose offspring commanded as much as $100,000 apiece. Finn was not for sale; he was a priceless stud — until one night a thief snatched him from his favorite perch. Surveillance video from 2024 shows the abduction. Van Gaver likens Finn to the “Mona Lisa” of pigeon sport: irreplaceable and famous. Six other birds were taken that night.
Belgium has seen at least 35 pigeon robberies in three years. Similar thefts have occurred in Great Britain, South Africa, and the United States. A 2023 unsolved case outside Philadelphia shows the problem is widespread. To understand why someone would risk prison to steal birds, 60 Minutes interviewed fanciers and experts, including Canadian-born pigeon enthusiast Ryan Zonnekeyn, who moved to Belgium and calls himself “the pigeon boss.”
Zonnekeyn explains that top racing pigeons are bred for performance: compact, powerful bodies; light weight; perfect feather condition; and even prized eye characteristics. Devotees see racing as sport and craft: trainers are coach, nutritionist, and scout. One-loft racing, a relatively recent format, has turned that craft into big money. Owners send promising young birds to a race loft to imprint on it, pay entry fees (about $500 per bird), and compete for large purses. In one race filmed, 3,300 birds were driven 300 miles away; the first to home into the loft won the largest shares of a $1.2 million pot.
As prize money and auction values climbed, the market for elite bloodlines intensified. One-loft winners become blue-chip assets: their DNA is a steady revenue source through sold offspring. Auctions in Belgium range from modest bids to multimillion-dollar sums. Pigeon Paradise (PIPA), the largest player, reports annual sales around €40 million, roughly half going to Chinese buyers. China’s enormous pigeon community — over 400,000 registered fanciers, lavish lofts, and races with purses up to $16 million — has driven prices sky-high. In 2020 a Chinese buyer paid $1.8 million for a single bird.
With so much money involved, criminal networks have taken notice. Investigators and fanciers say international gangs steal prized birds to smuggle them across borders, breed them, and sell offspring on the black market or to buyers willing to pay top dollar to improve bloodlines. Border checks in Latvia turned up a batch of birds hidden in socks and a briefcase headed to Russia.
Because of the thefts, loft security has become severe: multiple cameras, laser tripwires, and other measures are common. Some fanciers now rely on genetic testing to protect lineage and prove ownership. Belgian veterinarian Ruben Lanckriet has built a DNA database of over 70,000 birds across ten generations. He samples feathers, catalogs parentage, and helps match recovered birds to their original lofts. DNA evidence makes it riskier for thieves to sell stolen birds or their progeny without exposure.
Van Gaver’s case demonstrates both the menace and the new investigative tools. Belgian authorities, using camera footage, license-plate readers, and cellphone data, traced a chain of robberies to suspects linked to Romania. A March 2025 raid on a Brussels suburb and concurrent searches in Romania recovered 87 pigeons that appeared to have been stolen from Belgium. With identity rings removed from the birds, investigators turned to Lanckriet’s DNA work. His analysis confirmed 20 of the recovered birds, including two of Finn’s grandchildren.
Prosecutions followed. Eight co-conspirators were convicted; the alleged mastermind received a 30-month jail sentence. Authorities have not disclosed the fate of all of Van Gaver’s missing pigeons, and Finn remains unrecovered. For Van Gaver, the loss is personal: more than money, he wants his bird back.
The rise of the pigeon mafia has altered a once working-class sport. Where passion for training and the thrill of watching birds return once defined pigeon racing, a global market and the lure of big money have introduced organized theft, cross-border smuggling, and the need for forensic genetics. Producers and reporters note that pigeon thefts, once niche, now reveal how unique assets can attract sophisticated criminal networks when demand and profits climb.