Solitary vigil for the last kokako

Forest and Bird, Issue 293, 1 August 1999, Page 8

Solitary vigil for the last kokako

—Sandra Lee.

at driving force could possibly tempt a man to spend six months alone in the bush, living in a tiny tin hut, where visitors must tramp two hours from the nearest road? For half a year, Thomas Donovan woke in the heart of the forest at dawn each morning, and often heard the melancholy, haunting song of the last pair of kokako in

Puketi Forest, Northland. Their evocative sound made him wonder if the birds realised their predicament, keeping him vigilant as the Department of Conservation’s ‘bodyguard’ to a species at risk of disappearing from Puketi altogether. Last year, in October, Thomas and DoC conservation officer Steve McMannus were thrilled when they found that the last kokako pair in the forest were nesting, seeing it as a signal of a small comeback for a species on the brink of extinction in Puketi. This is a far cry from the 1980s when DoC staff ran public trips into the forest, where people could hear kokako lead the ‘dawn chorus, and the forest was thought to have the third-largest kokako population in the country. A 1984 survey revealed a significant population of at least 100 kokako, including 25 pairs. By 1990 another sur-

vey located only six pairs and eight single kokako. Now, that population has diminished to just one pair and 14 male birds. Without intervention, rats or possums will almost certainly eat kokako eggs before they hatch, and likewise, the female is most vulnerable as she nests. Thomas Donovan caught a stoat 30 metres from the last

nest and believes it would have taken the nesting female, then her young. On a typical day in the forest, nest protection was his highest priority. A kokako protection area of 100 hectares was established on the southern plateau, a predominantly podocarp-broadleaf forest studded with kauri. Using a ridge-and-spur track system, 750 bait stations were established, and the area ‘pulsed’ with 1080 and Feratox. This year the grid was extended to cover about 200 hectares, incorporating the territories of one pair and six single males. Eight Fenn traps were placed on ridges leading into the pair’s territory, and two lines of traps and bait stations encircled the nest. Little wonder Thomas became very fit, maintaining the traps and tramping out to fetch provisions on his two days off each week. In his

spare time, he scoured the forest seeking more pairs of kokako, but none were found. Thomas looked forward to Steve’s weekly visits but says his most enjoyable task was monitoring the progress of the nesting birds. Unhindered by predation, the pair nested three times but abandoned each attempt. Their eggs proved infertile and DoC staff

feared the level of genetic variation was too low. Then at the beginning of February this year, watching over a fourth nest in the lower canopy of a tawa tree, Thomas saw the first sign of a chick. Within a fortnight, two little heads were reaching up out of the nest, begging food from the parent birds. One chick was noticeably larger than the other, and was likely to have hatched earlier. With satisfaction Thomas noted: ‘the chicks seem to be thriving. Then disaster struck. The smaller chick fell from its nest. Thomas found it sitting quite calmly, unharmed, at the base of the nesting tree: he climbed up and put it back. Later he witnessed it begging and over reaching the nest. It fell out again: ‘I had no other option, I scaled the tree and put it back in’ The chick lasted a few more days in the nest, and then, on March 6, after tor-

rential rain, Steve found it dead under the nest. It weighed less than when it was banded, 11 days earlier. In the days that followed Thomas spent extra hours watching over the remaining chick, afraid for its precarious life. Nearly a fortnight later it fledged. Thomas observed it hopping amongst the kiekie and supplejack, flapping its wings. However, he was still concerned, knowing the chick was most vulnerable to predation at this stage, near the ground. After a few days, it made its way high up into the tawa, with small flapping flights. On the dawn of his last day in the forest, Thomas sat and watched the kokako in fruiting coprosma trees. The parents were taking bits of fruit back to their chick: ‘the early morning sun shone through the trees and fell on the little trio, lighting them up. I knew then, that it was time to leave; Thomas recorded. Now the breeding season is over for the year, and the kokako at Puketi are on their own. In the 100-hectare area, where the ecological approach to the forest hinges on predator control, all bird and plant life is noticeably thriving. Next year, the Puketi kokako project may incorporate chick translocation from successful breeding pairs in the Mataraua Forest, south of Kaikohe. Meanwhile, Thomas Donovan has relocated to another forest for a few weeks, to monitor rare, endangered plant species at Waima near Kaikohe. He is just one of many young New Zealanders, finding it difficult to gain employment despite a science degree, turning to volunteer and short-term contracts as a way into

conservation work.