A Special Place jor Birds

Forest and Bird, Volume 21, Issue 3, 1 August 1990, Page 8

A Special Place jor Birds

by

Rod Hay

MAN PHONES the talkback show just to say how much he appreciates the sparrows coming to his garden. Little children shriek with delight as the ducks in the park take pieces of bread from their outstretched fingers. Ferry passengers marvel at the grace of an albatross as its wing tip grazes the surface of the water before it effortlessly swoops up to hang in the air above the ship. A group of trampers sits entranced by the pure notes of a kokako song wafting over them from the tall rimu tree above. From everyday encounters in the garden to the excitement of seeing and hearing a rare

species, there is little doubt that birds hold a special place in many of our lives. Indeed, that special place is a part of most human cultures, from the falconers of the Middle East to the fishing communities of the South Pacific, and from the feather-bedecked Papua New Guinea highlanders to the bird-watching enthusiasts of Britain. As an ornithologist, but as a mere layman in human behaviour, perhaps I am only half qualified to judge what birds mean to us. However, like anyone, I can observe the relationships between the avian and human species and speculate on what they mean to us and the responsibilities they

entail. The existence in New Zealand of the Royal Forest and Bird Protection Society is, along with that of many other similar organisations elsewhere around the world, a tribute to the importance of birds, both as conservation catalysts and as objects of interest and concern in their own right. The International Council for Bird Preservation recognises this, and uses birds as flagships for conservation programmes which often have implications much wider than just for the particular species involved.

Why the attraction?

Birds are easy to see. Is it any wonder that harpacticoid copepods, slime moulds or nematode worms have few devotees, despite the fact that there are far more species of them than there are of birds? Because they are easy to see, birds are easy to appreciate, and as a result can also tell us a lot about the state of the world around us.

Few would deny their inherent beauty — what Viscount Grey of Fallodon called "The Charm of Birds" — a myriad of colour, form and sound. In his book of the same name he wrote, "The plumage of birds, infinite in diversity and beauty: their ways on land and water, and especially their ways in the air: their residence or migration: their mating, courtship, and care of their young: the eggs, so plain or so variously marked: the nests, so curiously made, differing so much in structure and in place chosen for them: and above all, the song of birds." Look through any art gallery or picture studio to see birds as subjects for art. It is important that we don't try to disguise the aesthetic appeal of birds. It is nothing to feel ashamed of. The protection of another life-form as a "living treasure" is perhaps a greater imperative than the worshipping of our fellow humans.and their artifacts. They represent freedom. Creatures which can come and go at will, their power of flight carrying them beyond the two-dimensional existence which keeps us essentially earthbound, cannot fail to provide inspiration about freedom and power, emotions dear to the human psyche.

What Do Birds Tell Us About The World?

They tell us a great deal, often of great practical importance to human existence. For example: e In cultures dependent on fishing, flocks of birds are important as indicators of the whereabouts of surface-feeding pelagic fish. In eastern Polynesia, for example, the appearance at sea of noddies and boobies being harried by frigate birds leads fishers to the schools of bonito and skipjack they value so much. It is a tribute to human folly that not only are we threatening the birds by invading their breeding sites, but driftnetters are looting the sea so that they can sell the tuna back to the islanders in tins! e Birds provided us with early warnings of the potentially catastrophic effects of overuse of some pesticides, particularly organochlorines such as DDT. Over a very short

period in the 1950s and 60s, the peregrine falcon in Britain went from being common to being in dire trouble. The cause was disruption in breeding behaviour and the thinning of eggshells through pesticide contamination of their prey, particularly small seed-eating birds and medium-sized birds such as pigeons, rooks, partridges and pheasants. The chemically stable pesticide compounds were becoming concentrated as they passed on up the food chains, with the result that predators such as falcons were far more susceptible to poisoning than their prey. In New Zealand, despite heavy use of such pesticides in some areas, our own falcon does not seem to have suffered egg-shell thinning in the same way, simply because it is a quite sedentary species. It seldom moves into the landscapes dominated by intensive agriculture, and hence it feeds mainly on prey relatively free of pesticide residues. Ironically, our most remote race of falcons, that found on the Auckland Islands, is potentially at greater risk. These falcons feed on seabirds and are therefore at the end of much longer food chains along which residues have become more concentrated than land-based ones. Birds are harbingers of other environmental change. In 1984, a small but stunningly ul-tramarine-coloured lorikeet, the pihiti (Vini ultramarina), was a common and locally adored inhabitant of the spectacular island of Ua Pou in the remote Marquesas group. Though the Marquesan birds had suffered terribly as a result of forest clearance and introduced animals, the little pihiti was not deemed to be particularly at risk. Besides, it was also found on 200 square km Nukuhiva Island and the smaller Ua Huka island, to which it had been introduced in the 1940s. By 1989, the pihiti was all but gone from Ua Pou, was exceedingly rare on Nukuhiva and numbered around 250 on Ua Huka. The reason? Locals at first thought that a cyclone was responsible and that the food supply might now be recovering. So we sought to nurture some local enthusiasm by helping return birds from Ua Huka

(five hours boat trip distant) but subsequently discovered that ship rats were now on the island, having arrived there since a new wharf had been built several years earlier. Re-introduction is now probably futile. Moreover, the birds of Ua Huka are also at risk if the lesson of Ua Pou, like so many islands before it, is not learned soon.

What Do We Owe The Birds?

We are in the midst of an extinction episode unparalleled in the history of the Earth. Whilst mass extinctions in the past, such as the loss of dinosaurs, were caused by natural events, the recent wave of losses is the result of our influence. It is not as yet under our control, though it should be.

New Zealand was a land of birds. Isolated from the rest of the world’s land masses since before the age of mammals, our relationship with hairy vertebrates has been a recent (though traumatic) one. Hence, although our isolation and small size renders us a country of a relatively small number of native species, the variety and uniqueness of our birds (and many of our other life forms) renders them particularly special on a global scale. The kiwi, kokako, rifleman and rock wren, kakapo, kereru, Cook's petrel, shore plover and wrybill are all part of what contribute to the Earth’s biological diversity, and we owe it to the Earth to afford them a place to live. In particular, we owe something to those species which we use as a national, state or

territorial symbols. The kiwi is our bird, and we proudly call ourselves kiwis, yet our treatment of the national symbol leaves a lot to be desired. We are not alone in this neglect, however. In New Caledonia, images of the cagou adorn buildings, coats of arms and tourist memorabilia, yet the birds themselves suffer from predation, hunting and loss of habitat. That attitude need not prevail, though often it is rarity itself which results in a species being valued. Information about the 30 or so remaining kakerori (Rarotonga flycatchers) led to the species being adopted, for a while at least, as the symbol of the Cook Islands Conservation Service. Public awareness increased, efforts to protect the species were

stepped up, and a full recovery programme is now in full swing, with the kakerori being the centrepiece of a major park proposal which will protect other endemic species such as the Rarotonga starling and fruit dove. We also owe something to the species themselves. Because of the size of our population and our special capacity for modifying the environment, the human species has become the de facto guardian of the world’s wildlife. Though extinction is a natural part of the evolutionary process, species are disappearing at a rate far beyond evolution’s ability to replace them. These species have just as much right to exist as we do, but their welfare and very existence is in our hands.

Finally, we owe it to the birds to find out about them. In the Amazon, species are disappearing at a frightening rate as the rainforests are chopped down and sold for short-term profit. Though the loss of the birds is in reality a relatively minor symptom of a massive problem, it is often the first indicator that something is seriously wrong. Understanding the loss of birds enables us to tell people of the wider problem. But merely knowing is not enough. Their plight should be broadcast from the rooftops of the world!

What should we do?

@ Stick up for endangered birds! They teach us a sensitivity to nature, and tell us about the consequences of our own misuse of the environment; lessons which we may not have learned without understanding the sacrifice of those species. As symbols, they also lead people into the wider conservation issues. Who knows how much influence the tiny black robin and the magnificent efforts on its behalf had on conservation awareness in general? Certainly, the Comalco "Cash for Cans" kakapo campaign illustrates how the plight of a single species can bring awareness and action on a wide front. There is a common misconception that if we put too much effort into endangered species, there will not be enough for other projects. However, the money available for endangered species is often given quite specifically and would not necessarily be available for other work. Also, the spin-offs of habitat protection or greater awareness go far beyond the welfare of the individual species concerned.

e@ Stick up for common species! There are not many birds which bear the label "pest’’, at least not to the extent that we could justify regarding the species as wholly undesirable. Given the recent history of our management of the Earth’s living things, many of the common species may one day also be endangered unless we have respect for them and their habitats. e Learn! Find out more about the ecology of birds, as a means of finding out more about the world’s ecosystems and what our place in them should be. e Acknowledge the cultural importance to us of birds and use them unashamedly as symbols of conservation, both for their own sake and as a means of leading people into an understanding of the wider conservation and environmental issues. e Use our knowledge to make our lifestyles more compatible with that of the wildlife around us in order to complement the efforts we have made in protecting reserves. The challenge of conservation is far greater than just the creation and maintenance of parks and reserves. We need to acknowledge that we are part of the natural community because, while we certainly have a great deal more influence than most other organisms on earth, we certainly do not have a great deal of control. It is time to understand what the plight of the birds is telling us, apply our knowledge and introduce some control. Perhaps more than any other living creatures, birds touch our lives in both direct and symbolic ways. What are the qualifications to read the message they offer? Like the talkback man, the child, the ferry passenger and the trampers, all we need is to be there. In the gardens as well as in the wilderness a message about the health of the planet is there if people are given some guidance to read it. When those messengers vanish, it is our world which has diminished both aesthetically and ecologically. #

Acknowledgements

Many thanks to Mike Rudge, Alison Ballance and Tony Pritchard for helpful comment on this essay. Dr Rod Hay has worked for Forest and Bird on Kokako and South Pacific conservation. Formerly with DSIR Ecology Division, he is now working for the Department of Conservation on South Pacific bird conservation.