It was really just a matter of how to get a pelican to cooperate rather than it being aggressive or anything - they aren’t intelligent enough to figure out you aren’t going to eat them so will resist attempts be caught.

Dad and my sister were coming back from town one night and saw this pelican by the side of the road moving really awkwardly, so they pulled over to check it out and found it had a punctured lung (and a somewhat wonky beak, but that had healed from a previous injury). Best guess is someone wasn’t as good with a shotgun as they thought they were - being charitable there is a chance someone figured it would struggle with the beak, either that or they were an arsehole.

Anyway the pelican wasn’t up to anything much so they took it home, made up a comfy spot in a cardboard box, gave it some old painkillers, and expected to just give it an easier end than being eaten by whatever came across it that night. Next morning however when the box was opened the pelican was alive and kicking (literally) so we pinned it down and put it in part of the chook pen to recover. After a fortnight or so of hanging around eating bits of fish and scaring the daylights out of the chooks every time they saw it the pelican had healed up enough to be properly active again so we wrestled it down once more (took noticeably more effort this time) and bundled it into the car to release down at the dam.