Little Penguin (photo by Fir0002/Flagstaffotos)

It’s an all too familiar story:  an introduced species comes to an island causing an indigenous population to plummet.  In this case, Australia’s Middle Island population of an endangered species had dropped from 700 Little Penguins to 4 in a span of 4 years due to the introduced European Red Fox.

It was looking bad until they called in the dogs, an usual conservation technique (but not unheard of).  In 2006 Maremma sheep dogs were introduced to the penguins.  This breed, instead of herding, bond with the animals they protect, making them ideal guardians.  Since 2006, not a single penguin has succombed to a fox and the population is now over 200.

Maremma sheep dog (photo by M. Gerety)

I wonder way back in the co-evolution of dog and human if we ever imagined that we would manipulate one species genes into domesticity which would then allow us to protect wild genes.

If we can breed dogs to bond and protect other species, why not ourselves?  Are we any more of a hunter than the original wolf?

Maybe due to our advanced ages at the onset of reproduction and relatively low offspring production, we really can’t set up a human breeding project that would pacify our behaviors to make enough difference quick enough.

But we can breed awareness and understanding among ourselves, and hence increase our compassion and effectiveness. We just need to herd our impulses, each to their own ability.  If a dog can lie down with a penguin, then a lion (us) lying down with a lamb (others) isn’t just a metaphor.  We too can make our own earth a garden bed, and lie down with the many others of this planet.

Jairo Mora Sandoval with other WIDECAST Volunteers (photo by WIDECAST)

What would you sacrifice to keep wildlife on this planet?

While you ponder your response, know that Jairo Mora Sandoval died on May 30, 2013 protecting sea turtles in Costa Rica.  Despite having been chased by poachers with AK 47′s and threatened at gun point to cease his patrols along the beach where turtles came to lay their eggs, he continued on, knowing the risks.  He gave his life for the turtles. It is unknown who killed him and also kidnapped 4 volunteers who were working together in the dark of night on this remote beach off the Caribbean coast near the town of Mohin.  Suspiciouns run strong that it was elements of poaching and drug trafficking combined.  Turtle eggs fetch about a $1 on the black market and with up to 50-200 eggs per nest (depending on the species) that makes it worthwhile for some to respond with violence when they can’t get what they want.

Sea Turtle Nest

This doesn’t mean that conservationists should respond in kind, though I admit it’s tempting.  During my years working for yellow-naped amazon conservation in Guatemala we stood guard over nests, spied on our suspicious neighbors with telescopes, chased people on horseback and in all terrain vehicles, approached people carrying guns, and also brought along our own armed guards.  This month parrot conservationists in the Chiquibuil area of Belize have tired of poachers stealing the macaw chicks from their nests, and have increased their patrols.  They have chased poachers from their camps and faced off with them in apparent stalemate situations while the would be robbers yelled at them from a distance.    It wouldn’t take much for violence to escalate, as it did for Jairo.

Though not with violence, conservationists have definitely responded.  Since his death there has been an outcry for more government protection in the area, and conservation groups, including Paradero Eco-Tour and the Wider Caribbean Sea Turtle Conservation Network (WIDECAST) for whom he worked, have pooled their resources to offer a  reward of $10,000 for information leading to the arrest of his killers.   Part of the response, unfortunately, has been the discontinuation of the volunteer effort to patrol this particular area.

“It’s a tragedy,” Didiher Chacón told ABC Univision. “Jairo was a jovial and energetic young man. He grew up in a small town next to a natural preserve and he had learned to love turtles and conservation since he was a kid. I’m a father and I don’t want the responsibility of sending someone else there,” he added. “I don’t think anybody with a level head should want to go to those beaches.”

It is deemed too dangerous.

Is it?  Can we find a way to mitigate the risks?

In my work with macaws in Honduras we have to hire a military escort to go with us – to keep us and the indigenous people safe from similar nefarious elements as in Costa Rica.  Our work is quite passive and nonthreatening, so the poachers come in after we leave.  One of my colleagues on the project says it is not worth risking lives of the native people by asking them to directly confront those who would take parrots from their ancestral lands.  The people on their own have decided to take risks as they take back their parrots so that they can fly free.  The idea is to weigh the risks, for humans as well as other species, and then plan accordingly for the flourishing of all.

What risks would you take?

Leatherback Turtle

That’s a question I ask myself, sitting here safely and comfortably as I write. What if instead I took a risk, asked you readers, and you asked others, and we banded together as a network of witnesses. Imagine this – hundreds of us storming the beaches in Costa Rica, taking back on behalf of the turtles what is theirs.  Wouldn’t it be grand?  Our presence would honor Jairo and his colleagues. In bigger numbers, with resolve, we could find a way to be safe, and to keep others safe.  At the very least, we would stand in solidarity to support those who give so much on behalf of this beautiful world.  We could then in turn tell their story far and wide, so we all would know what has been lost, and what might be gained.  Whenever there was a threat to the lives of others, we would go in person to the beach, the forest, or the savannah – dig in like a turtle to give precious hope a chance to incubate.

Are you still thinking about what you would do? (I am…)

Well, don’t wait too long.  (I hope I don’t)

You can donate now to the reward fund for Jairo, or to sign this petition.

Better yet, honor Jairo, his work, and the turtles, by sharing his story.

And if we dare, contact me and let’s see if can hatch a plan for a Witness Protection Program for Turtles.

It may be natural to steal turtle eggs. It’s also natural for others to give chase and protect their nests (photo by Miguel Palaviccini taken in Gainesville, FL  June 2013 of a fish crow with a turtle egg being chased by a red-winged blackbird)

Recently confiscated parrot chicks – only in captivity until they grow old and well enough to be released (photos by Gerson Sanchez)

The plan was that I would be in Honduras right now doing a survey of the scarlet macaw nests in La Moskitia, Honduras.  Unfortunately logistics and finances proved too difficult for my Honduran counterparts, and the field research was deferred until the fall.

Scarlet macaw chick with injured leg

This came as disconcerting news for the people who are caring for these birds on the front lines.  Recently they received a group of confiscated parrots otherwise destined for the illegal pet trade.  They needed help in caring for them. Some birds were injured and all of them were suffering from malnutrition.

Thin chick showing signs of malnutrition and stunting

There are no governmental or private organizations or support to even feed these birds, let alone provide veterinary care.  So my colleagues there got on email and Facebook, and then sent me pictures and descriptions of the birds.  Along with others we were able to offer advice, and thanks to Lafeber Company I was able to send some funds so they could buy food and housing for the birds.

Parenting the parrots of our shared world – thank you Tomás Manzanares!

They reported to me this week that the birds are doing better and with continued support for food and housing, they hope to release the birds back into the wild where birds released in previous years currently flock together.

I am sorry to not be with the parrots and people this nesting season, and yet am also glad that there are others with willing and open hearts ready to do the hard work of parrot conservation.

Thank you people of La Moskitia!

Thank you Gerson Sanchez!

Thank you Joaquin!

Fire along road as we head into forest

It is the time of incendios. Fires in Guatemala and indeed throughout the Maya Selva (forest) are everywhere.  What causes these fires you ask?  Perhaps the root is human desire.  Current human practices means too many people encroaching into the forest without balanced and sustainable methods.  We might also blame climate change, along with the disconnecting denial that breeds carelessness.

Map of current fires in Maya Selva 2013

The forest though is not just afire, it is alive, and it is a life.  Through sight, touch, smell, hearing, taste, and a subconscious resonance, one senses that one is inside a living, breathing being.  Driving along the roads into and out of the study area for our target species, the scarlet macaw, we humans are just one cell among many traveling along the circulatory pathways.  Just last week we saw a Great Curassow female and a Tayra cross in front of us in a flurry, and the night hawks and oceloted turkeys just don’t seem to give up the right of way before us.  Then there’s the monkeys and parrots in the tops of the trees who are outlandish in both sight and sound.

Spider monkey in forest

The odor of the forest and low lying haze reminds us that the air we breathe and the lives we lead aren’t empty.  Sure there is smoke and ash in the air, but there is also the heavy aroma of flowering trees, everywhere.  At some bends in the road the smell is so strong it as if there is the spirit of the forest has taken form and holds us, or perhaps shake us, asking us to wake up, pay attention.

Flowers rain down on forest path

As one looks around, one not only smells, but sees the presence of flower everywhere. In some places their petals carpet the ground. Like a grand parade, life decorates the paths before us.  Even at night the ground is adorned. At the research camp in Corona and Peru, spider eyes sparkle in the grass like perfect jewels.

Flowering tree in Guatemala

I ask the name of one of the flowering trees as we bump along theforest road, and the reply is “Flor de Sol” (Flower of the Sun).  Isn’t that the answer to everything, at last?  Why do bad things happen?  Flowers of the sun bloom and decay, giving fruit to the future.   Why do we work so hard to save endangered species?  Because in the end, aren’t all species flowers of the sun?  What do we do when we are in despair and in pain? Remember that we are flowers of the sun entangled and interconnected to one another with over powering beauty.

Mural by Diego Rivera showing the burning of Maya literature by the catholic church

There is nothing namby pamby about being a flower.  Life is not a walk in the park – death and decay is ready to eat the heart of the forest, your heart too.  The evidence of such truth is all around,  For instance, in between jaunts to the field, we station in Flores, Guatemala.  The conquistadores took this the final flower from the Maya, then known as Noipeten.   It was the last stronghold of the Maya  before being entirely conquered by both missionaries and then by an assault by the Spanish in 1697. While we work in the field and pass through ancient ruins on our way to parrot nests, we can’t but wonder, “Why did we lose so much in this area – the Maya, their culture, the parrots?”  The answer echoes, “Remember, we all are flowers of the sun. Do not repeat the mistakes of the past”.

Sunset from Flores, Guatemala

I am not keen on romanticizing those of the past, but I am struck by how the Maya revered the scarlet macaw.  For the Maya, the scarlet macaw’s colors heralded the vision of a fiery sun rising in the East. For them, the bird was the day time sun, powerful for what it symbolized. This power transferred to those who associated themselves with the bird.  Unfortunately, like  today, revering an animal isn’t always in the best interest of the individual. In pre-Columbian times, macaws were captured, traded, raised in captivity probably without ever a chance to fly, and sacrificed.

Captured white-fronted amazon kept as pet at a Flores Restaurant (notice the missing tail – a negative condition of captivity)

I am not sure all that much has changed, alas.  One hears the chatter of parrots, illegally kept in households, as one walks around the island of Flores.  One also hears the clatter and chatter of the local radio station, Guacamaya (macaw)   Having the macaw as its symbol, their slogan is “The sound that flies.”

Radio station sign – “The Sound That Flies”

Nice, except there are not that many of these birds left to fly free.  Perhaps because of their relative rarity, or maybe even if there were thousands as before, the human heart expands so as to take in that flying sound which connects one below the tree canopy, where it is so hard to see, to beauty above that sees clearly for miles.

Wild scarlet macaw high in canopy looking at tree climber at her nest and us below examining her chick (photo by Chalo Córdova)

When will we humans see, truly see, and come to our senses so that we may know that all are flowers of the sun?

Oh dear Maya Selva, so full of life where sound flies as song and flowers rain abundantly, will you be able to quench the fire of human desire?

They who bind themselves to a desire

Do the winged life destroy

They who kiss the joy as flies,

Live in eternity’s sunrise

- William Blake (adapted)

Attentive parents at nest entrance (thanks for all photos in this posting go to Tony Rath of Belize Photography)

I was only back two days from my Belize/Guatemala/Mexico scarlet macaw journey when I got the news that poachers have struck in Belize, despite the tremendous efforts of those working there.  Here is the post from the Belize Wildlife and Referral Clinic‘s Facebook page:

 R. I. P. little macaw. It is with great sadness that we share the announcement that 2 out of 4 macaw chicks examined during our recent Chiquibul trip were poached from their nest only days later.  This means that most likely they are dead at this time.  The poaching pressure on the Chiquibul macaws is intolerable. The natural heritage is being pillaged. At this pace the last wild Belizean Macaws will soon be extinct.  Friends for Conservation and Development (FCD) and Scarlet Six are trying to respond, before it is too late and have increased nest protection efforts. BDF has been called in to assist as well.  The conservation organisations are looking for volunteers to assist in the field. Contact Roni Martinez (Scarlet Six) or Boris Arevalo (FCD) if you think you have what it takes to participate.  Help us share the sad news to alert more people to this incredibly complex crisis.

A face that all mothers could love

These are birds that I and others had just recently held, adored, and gathered around as we heard their hearts beat to the same awesomely beautiful rhythms of nature as ours.  That these birds are doomed to death, or to a life time in captivity likely subjected to standards of care that do not approach the social and environmentally complex world in which their families of origin fly, is nearly unbearable – to me and to others who commented on the Facebook posting above.

Roni Martinez examining chick, with pleasure (another face that all mothers could love)

I’m glad that those who can are rising to the call to help.  I was told that the Belizean Defense Force (BDF mentioned above) will send in about 60 people to sweep the area clean of poacher.  Others too have volunteered as well to increase protection.  What can you do?  You might share this story with others, and if you can donate time or money to help feed the volunteers, contact me or Roni Martinez.

Weighing a precious wild chick (weighing your options of how to preserve these parrots is also precious)

Climbing macaw nest tree in the heat – no problem for Qi Wong.

Climbing nest tree in the heat – no problem for Joshua Daniel

Here in the Maya Selva (broadleaf forest shared between Mexico, Belize, Guatemala) it gets hot, but it’s a wet heat.  No problem for me, but it is for our equipment and materials.  With temperatures easily reaching 100 plus and the humidity percentage close to the same number, our gear gives up long before we do.

Climber at nest site – no problema for Eleazar González (notice adult parent watching on to right of climber)

Here’s how so based on one 24 hour period last week in the Laguna del Tigre National Park in northern Guatemala.  This year I am here with my conservation team members sampling wild macaw chicks to test them (the chicks, not my human team members) for disease and to get baseline data.  We are all part of a group that centers on the Wildlife Conservation Society’s effort to protect the Maya Biosphere Reserve.  Funding and expertise also comes from the American Museum of Natural History, Disney Worldwide Conservation Fund, and Lafeber Conservation and Wildlife.

Exam and lab table under the nest tree. We are ready, but is the equipment?

Sure our shirts are already damp while we sip coffee at 5 a.m., and wet by the time we get to the base of the first nest tree.  But it’s no problem for us.  Handling the chick and taking blood goes well enough, but then the non living flesh begins to flake out.   We make slides out of the blood and it is important that they dry right away so the cells don’t rupture, and so that they will lake take up the stain well. The slides refuse to dry. Quickly I pass them out and folks start blowing on the slides. This induces borderline hyperventilation in case anyone was thinking they were too comfortable in the heat and humidity.

Spinning down blood using truck’s battery

Wild scarlet macaw chick with full crop

We then move on to the next trees and as the day progresses the humidity drops and the slides dry more quickly.  During the last nest exam, however, the chick brings plenty of nest dust down with her and when she moves, dust and dirt gets on the slides, making preparation difficult.

While some of us pack up under the nest tree, others go ahead to get to the truck as fast as possible. It’s important to quickly centrifuge the blood so you can separate the plasma from the red blood cells.  So this has to happen truck side in the middle of the forest, drawing on the truck’s battery for energy.   On the walk back we discover that even our knee caps sweat in this weather.  No problem for us, but it might be for the blood samples.  So we give thanks to Kari Schmidt and others on our advance team, for they are finishing up as we arrive.

We then go to the lab, and I did mention that there were no fans or air conditioning in the field lab, didn’t I?  It is about the hottest time of the day, but we can’t break for lunch because samples need to be run as soon as possible.  No problem for us.  We keep cranking, but our equipment fails. First the clay that stoppers the hematocrit tubes gets too warm and doesn’t seal the tubes. The blood leaks out and we can’t assess whether the birds have anemia or not. In the middle of this, our Abaxis biochemistry analyzer, the Vetscan Classic, decides it’s just too hot to keep running, and stops.  I guess we can’t blame the machine, after all the manual suggests not to run it with ambient temperatures over 90. Now we know why.

Grateful for the donated AbaxisVetscan biochemistry analyzer – thank you Abaxis! (notice the wet faces – whether tears or sweat, no problem for us!)

As long as the equipment peters out first we don’t mind stopping.   We take a long lunch break, for the chicks’ and equipment’s sake, not ours.  We don’t want to be handling the more sensitive chicks when the sun reaches its punishment zenith.  We climb a nest tree in the later afternoon and then return gladly to work in the stifling lab after dark.

Trying to read refractometer with flashlight – you’ve got to be kidding!

No problem for us, but our refractometer acts up. This is a piece of equipment that passes light through blood plasma so we can judge Total Solids. But there isn’t enough light to read the refractometer well, so we have to use a flash light.  Using flash lights are notorious for losing macho points, but not in this case – it’s the equipment’s fault (the stupid clay keeps leaking even in the night!).  .

There is nothing more we can do but wait until it is cooler in the morning.  Otherwise I’m sure we could have worked all night. Instead we let the equipment rest as we try to do so ourselves, though the heat and humidity keep one wakeful, as do the Howler monkeys bellowing throughout the night.  No problem for us. Refreshed or not, we are ready to go again in the morning.

Antonio Xol and a giant walking stick looks on as we pack up the Vetscan analyzer

So there we are running laboratory tests at 5:30 a.m. and do manage to tame the heat and humidity issues of our equipment.  With no more tests to run, it’s time to pack up.  A large walking stick (insect) inspects our process as we decide how to arrange it all.  The more sensitive equipment, such as the VetScan and the microscopes, cannot go in the back of the truck. So we look for volunteers who will ride inside the relatively cooler and more comfortable cab of the truck.  Usually riding in the hot direct sun in the rambunctious truck bed is rather a mark of pride. However, two agree to hold microscopes in their laps for the 4 hour bumpy ride out, and I get the VetScan between my legs.

Packed in tight with equipment all around us (Raiza Barahona, LoraKim Joyner and Manuel Lepe)

The bronco like action of the truck along the pitted roads does make it seem like I am riding a horse, so I just hold tight with my thigh muscles and it doesn’t seem so bad.  The next day though I discover that I indeed did develop saddle sores in the typical places.  Others received bruises where doors and other protruding objects rudely slammed into them while the driver navigated the deeper ruts. No problem for us, and thankfully, not for the equipment either which made it back in one piece to Flores, our home base.

ARCAS veterinarians, Drs. Fernando Martinez and Alejandro Morales, with me and intern Rudy Lopez (showing off our “Fly Free Scarlet Macaw” wrist bands which announce we all are one conservation team!)

Temporary lab in Flores outside hotel room (where ever you go, so goes the lab!)

Once back in Flores we visit ARCAS where they graciously allow us to sample a few of their birds so we can work out the kinks in our equipment.  We run various trials using different clay at different temperatures and finally come to a place where we have confidence that the slides, tubes, centrifuges, microscopes, stains, and machines on our next trip to the field will man up and do their job.

After all, it’s just a wet heat.

When things go well we are very happy, and when they don’t, we’re macho (Dr. Kari Schmidt doing the “happy dance” while Dr. Manuel Lepe looks on)

Painting by school children welcoming the scarlet macaw to Palenque, Mexico (A grand welcome to a beautiful bird)

I like many others am very curious about the Mayan culture, especially so in my case because all of the countries in which I have projects claim Mayan ancestors.  Because of this my spouse and I have been hooked on a board game: Tzolk’in – the Mayan Calender. It has gears that spin like depictions of the Mayan calendar.  As you go through the ages, each turning of the calendar sets into motion gears around an alliance of major Mayan cities, Tikal, Uxmal, Yaxchilan, Chichen Itza, and Palenque.  The turning gears then offer one choices in all kinds of actions – building temples and monuments, trading, feeding workers, mining, fishing, clearing the forest, and harvesting maize (corn).  In the city of Palenque, for instance, you can choose to clear the forest before you can plant maize, and if you want to burn the forest to get at more food resources quicker, you “anger the gods” and get levied a fine.

Palenque Ruins

Perhaps the Mayans really did feel as if they had angered their gods somehow when city after city of theirs fell due to a complex weave of environmental degradation, over population, hunger, political strife, and war.  It isn’t much of a leap to imagine how when we modern humans similarly harm the environment and each other, we anger the whole of life which results in penalties against our kind and kin.  These are the kinds of connections I make as we play the game, which has its roots in reality.  For its not really a game at all.

The Palace Observation Tower at Palenque Ruins

As we learn about the Mayans we are aided in understanding our own lives.  To reap even more benefits, to raise the stakes of the game, and to make it more challenging, relevant, and entertaining, we have begun to make up new rules to the game.

One tourist among many, me.

Life is all about changing rules.  In the last century, people are making up rules as fast as they can to keep pace with changes so they may live as well as they can, for their sake and the sake of others.  No wonder many people from around the world visit Palenque and similar Mayan sites. By trying to understand how cultures rose and then declined in the past, they seek guidelines on how to live in a world where the future seems so uncertain.  For this reason, at least in part, I joined other tourists journeying on the Ruta Maya (Mayan Route) this past week in Palenque, Chiapas, Mexico.

I sought enlightenment not just from visiting the ruins of the past, but also by delighting in the hope of future, namely, the scarlet macaw liberation project at Aluxes Ecopark which resides near the ruins,

Entrance to Aluxes EcoPark

There I learned much about what guidelines helped not just those of the past who lived in this area, but can help those of the present preserve a healthy future for the many….

• Formation of alliances
• Long term dedication
• Grounding in reality while reaching for the dream

Entrance sign at Aluxes welcoming the scarlet macaw home

The scarlet macaw liberation project at Aluxes, Flying Home, has been in formation for a long time before their first release of 20 macaws just a few short weeks ago on April 21, 2013.   The ideas to reintroduce macaws into an area where they had become locally extinct began to take form in 2007.  At that time three groups came together: Acajungla, of which Aluxes is a part, Xcaret (an archeological and ecopark) and Universidad Nactional Autonómo de México.

Flying Home project sign listing contributors of the alliance

Dr. Alejandro Estrada pointing the way

Dr. Alejandro Estrada, the lead scientist, explained to me that it is this strong alliance that made the project possible.  So too the Mayan city Palenque came into its greatest power due to an alliance, theirs with Tikal and Yaxchilan.  Finally Palenque was able to resist the violent power grabs, destruction, and sacking by the neighboring unallied city states.  Alliances to avoid destruction, powerful then and powerful now.

Volunteers out for the morning monitoring the recently released flock (and wearing “Scarlet Macaw Fly Free” wrist bands) Alliances typically are supported by a large number of volunteers – thanks to them for being on the conservation team for the Mesoamerican scarlet macaw!

The Palenque-Tikal-Yaxchilan alliance took form during the rule of Pakal the Great who governed for an incredibly long time given the short lifespan and political turmoil of the times:  615 – 683 C.E.  He lived to be 80 years old, a true ancient when humans died much younger than they do today.  The length of his rule I believe contributed to stability, and to the power needed to implement and maintain concrete actions. In the case of the macaws, Acajungla has been in operation for 12 years and XCARET has been dedicated long enough to be able to breed in captivity some 200 scarlet macaws a year.  It is this perseverance in conservation that brings about change and possibility.

Carved lid of the tomb of K’inich Janaab’ Pakal in the Temple of the Inscriptions.

To preserve amongst the challenges also takes an enduring vision.  In the Palenque ruins exists a carving that commemorates the passing of Pacal the Great.  As explained to me by a tour guide, Pakal is depicted as dying, but then being aided by the sacred Ceiba tree as he ascends to the afterworld which is symbolized by the Quetzal. The Ceiba tree’s roots go deep into the underworld and its limbs reach the heavens.  Yes, the scarlet macaw population here has died, as did Pacal.  But it is experiencing a rebirth, because like the Ceiba’s mighty roots, this project has deep grounding, theirs in scientific and social endeavors. At the same time it has a far reaching dream to establish a macaw corridor to join up with and strengthen the struggling and endangered populations of a couple of hundred individuals each in southern Mexico, Guatemala, and Belize.  It is an audacious undertaking, but from my vantage point of only spending scant hours with these great people, it seems not only possible, but probable.  Sure, it is early yet – only two weeks into the first release.  However, they have not lost one bird.  This bodes well for future releases which are scheduled to take place several times a year over the next three years with XCARET donating up to 300 birds for liberation.  Easily in my life time it could be that all we macaw conservationists of the Maya Selva (forest) could be out of a job.  The macaws would have finally come home to stay.

Flight cage for macaws before release

I will be flying home myself in about another week, and I can’t wait to return to play the Mayan Calendar Game with my family.  There will be a new rule added though. Not only in Palenque will you have the option to cut the forest and plant maize, but now also you will be able to release macaws, and earn bonus points accordingly.

We all have options.  The rules to life are changing, and I believe for the better. We can choose to not only destroy and live in ruin, but to rebuild, to preserve, and to compassionately care for all individuals of all species.

Recently liberated scarlet macaw (with radio telemetry collar and temporary identifying marks on beak)

Grandly welcoming each and all in this way to our shared earth home is not a game.  The stakes are very high.

There are also risks. Engaging with one another and forming alliances over a long period of time is never easy. So maybe I need to add other rules to the game, rules of sacrifice.  Our sacrifice though won’t be of giving up to death our smooth or feathered skinned children, but our own narrow desires and ego concerns born naturally out of fear.

Skull found on the Temple of the Skull, Paleqnue

How then do we let go of fear?  How do we see not ourselves at the center of the world, but the flora and fauna all around us?  Well, I say by playing together for the benefit of all.

If we can do this, I believe that not only will the gods will be well pleased, but so will the children of all species to come.

Temple depicting the tree of creation tree at the center of the world (Temples of the Cross complex in Palenque Ruins)

High view of Chalillo Reservoir as we drive in

It is this reservoir where I will spend three days contributing to the current scarlet macaw conservation efforts.  I am joined by Dr. Isabelle Paquet-Durand, Danny Velasquez, and Tony Rath.   Dr. Pasquet is founder and director of the recently formed Belize Wildlife and Referral Clinic and Danny and Tony are on this trip wearing their photography hats. The three of us are hosted by Charles Britt and Roni Martinez.  Roni is leader of a coalition of conservationists and also conservation officer for Blancaneaux Lodge.

Charles is a staunch supporter of parrot conservation in Belize and has had many adventures seeking to understand them, and protect them.  We first met in 2011 when he came to Guatemala to report on the status of the scarlet macaw in the Chiquibul Forest Reserve. His news then was not good – illegal poaching was rampant which not only led to the removal of chicks from their families, but also the death of adults in some cases and the destruction of nest trees in others from attempts to get the chicks down out of high tree cavities.

Given this back story, I expect to be discouraged, once again, with the status of macaws in Mesoamerica.  However, that is not the case.  Instead what I encounter is energy, hope, perseverance, and possibility.  For example, due to last year’s protection efforts, the poaching rate of the nests along the reservoir dropped from 90% to 30%. Protection is provided by Roni’s team, known amongst themselves as the Scarlet Six, and the Friends of Conservation and Development (FCD). Both teams have boats on the water patrolling when I arrive and join together for the nest climbs when I will offer training in nest and chick health evaluation.

Scarlet Six

We camp near the nest tree we will climb the next day.  In fact, the adult pair is calling and preening in the branches over our hammock tent site as the sun gives it up for the moon.

Roni Martinez listening to chick’s heart

After the sun and full moon once again exchange places, the morning begins with mist and a scramble for coffee.  Once all the team members gather, the chicks are lowered to the ground. The human crowd gathers around to learn what they might as I walk them through the steps evaluating chicks.  Although these chicks are between 1-2 weeks of age and without feathers, I can see in the smiles around that indeed, the book got it right, this is one of the most beautiful and treasured species in the world.  I have to admit that I was doing a fair bit of smiling myself as I have not handled a wild macaw chick for nearly two years. The two chicks are slightly thin and have many mites.  The teams elect to treat the chicks and the nest cavity with insecticide so as to increase the health and chance of fledgling for these birds. Two years ago In Guatemala macaws we found that the chicks with mites were the same ones that were anemic.   So as we are treated by their presence in the world, we treat them as well.

We take a break in the mid part of the day, so the heat won’t impact the chicks or the climbers.  By 3 p.m. we are climbing a second tree. I take a back seat as Isabelle supervises and teachers. Having a chance to look around, I swear even though it’s hot and the woods are offering up their ticks to our skin, people are smiling even more than they did this morning.  These chicks are in better body condition and there are no mites.

On our way back from the climb, the birding from the boat is exquisite.  We see a recently fledged great black hawk, tentatively perching on a snag and unwilling to risk a flight to get away from us.  I think we are much like her – babies looking off into the unknown, not knowing what’s coming, and afraid to risk the fight.   Even still, the hawk will take flight, and we will continue to take up the fight.

Back at camp there are many plans for continued chick and nest health evaluations, and more extensive nest protection in the deeper parts of the Chiquibul.  While we chatter, stories arise about the tough years in the past and how difficult the challenges are concerning conservation efforts in Belize.  Many heads nod in agreement when one veteran of the Chiquibul says that team mates are what make all the difference in the world.

Wearing wrist bands in solidarity (bands read “Scarlet Macaw Fly Free” in 3 languages)

With each other, we can continue the fight.

With each other, the birds can continue their flight.

The National Bird of Nicaragua, a turquoised browed motmot right outside the radio telemetry workshop

Have you ever gone looking for something really precious that you know should be where you put it, and when you cannot discover its location, you succumb to a feeling of senseless loss and frustration?  If so, then you can well imagine being with me and my cohorts this past week in Nicaragua as we went in search of parrots. I traveled with  Kim Williams-Guillén and Martin Lezama López of Paso Pacifico, and Tom White of the Puerto Rican Parrot Recovery Project.  We had a two-fold goal:  learn about radio telemetry through Tom’s guidance, and place several radio collars on the target species, the yellow-naped amazon known locally as the loro. The other objective was offering my experiences and skills in yellow-naped ecology and health by demonstrating and training during nest and wild chick exams.

The team: Kim, Tom, and Martin thinking hard about looking for loros

The week started off well with Tom teaching radio telemetry during a workshop in Managua that also included a hands on field exercise.  The day before we went into the field, Tom had placed radio collars near the trails in Finca Montibelli outside of Managua.  I had watched him do this and thought, “Hah, this will be too easy and will take no time at all.”

Tom teaching radio telemetry

Well finding what you are looking for can take longer than expected.   Calculating from the fact that people reported spending about 10 minutes a day looking for lost items, the average adult over a life time uses up 152 days searching for objects, with over two weeks of that time being just looking for car keys.  I always thought that I needed a key that emitted a beacon so I could hone in on its location. But then I would probably misplace the receiver that picked up the beacon’s signal.

Tom White helping a group find the collar

With radio receivers in hand, three groups went searching for the hidden radio collars. I tagged along with one group, who without Tom’s guidance would I imagine still be out in the woods trying to recover the collars.  When we did find a collar each in the group suddenly was infused with energy in the melting heat, much like a child who finds the carefully hidden prize egg during an Easter egg hunt.  We laughed and smiled with one another, and without words affirmed that life is often a lot harder than one would imagine. If things were quick and easy, we might not gain the satisfaction of challenge, completion, and contribution.

Quick and easy is not radio telemetry, nor is parrot conservation.

It takes determination, clarity of focus, and a kind of stubbornness to keep on in the struggle, despite the difficulty of obtaining the goal – free flying parrots flourishing in their native habitats.

Team after long day making a parrot nest net to retrieve chicks from deep cavities.

These characteristics became readily apparent in my traveling companions as we left Managua and headed south into Rivas near the town of San Juan del Sur.  Without missing a beat we all agreed to meet for coffee at 4:45 a.m. and then to start the day in search of yellow-naped amazon nests.

Climber Juan Carlos Pavon looking into nest of Mealy Amazons

The first nest brought a shout of glee when the climber reported two chicks!  The team soon grew quiet when the species was identified not as napes, but as mealy amazons.  This made a lot of sense as two pairs of mealys had been quite vociferous upon our arrival – not so much yelling at us as at each other in their marking and protecting of nest and territory. The next nest had a camera high up in the tree that had indicated the chicks had suddenly disappeared last week. Indeed they were gone when we checked by climbing the tree.

Nest tree climber Juan Carlos in action

Over the next two days we walked, lugged, climbed, sweated, and despaired. No chicks.

Pacific Ocean as viewed from ridge near nest tree

There had been nests but they had already been poached, and in a few cases, had successfully fledged.  On the last afternoon the nest tree was down a deep ravine. I waited half way due to a knee injury and not wanting to walk up and out at night.  From Tom I heard the story how this nest, like the first one, had been a tease. The climber reported “seeing something green” and hopes rose. With a flashlight, though, the green turned out to be fresh parrot feces – the birds had flown!

Driver Myer watching sunset while waiting for team to come up ravine after last climb

For the days’ work, no radio collars got placed and no live chicks examined, but not for want of trying.  Turns out the only parrot I handled was a dead one.  A family that protects one of the nests had found a dead chick at the base of the tree.  After a 13 hour day already, I was handed a frozen carcass to be necropsied before dinner. The team gathered around me as once again bad news was given. “This is not a yellow-naped amazon, but is a white-fronted amazon.”  Apparently killed by a predator, this young female would not give us the data we searched for in regards to nape nesting success.  We couldn’t even find a dead one of the desired species!

LoraKim performing necropsy at restaurant – before eating of course!

On the night drive back to Managua the mood brightened.  We had worked hard and the Nicaragua team knew more about how to conduct the study next year. Tom agreed that he would be delighted to return to help them place the radio collars.  I will too if schedule and financing allows.

The work will continue year round with anti-poaching and education efforts, such as with this poster discouraging poaching.

Even without the success of finding chicks this year, the days were not lost time such as when looking for keys.  The key here is obvious – the efforts of Paso Pacifico and their conservation team members matter.  For they are looking for what all of us have lost – abundant parrot populations throughout their country.

Hope looking up

With such a challenging goal before us, we wished each other good hope and safe travels, saying as we departed, “Next year in Managua!”

Hope looking back (female howler monkey a few trees over from us during a nest climb)

Paso Pacifico is a nonprofit organization that is able to do their work due to the gracious donations from Loro Parque Fundación, Parrots International, the Ornithology Council, and people such as yourself.  To find out more how you can help, go here.

The arrival of settlers to the Pacific islands caused the massive die-off of nearly 1,000 flightless bird species, similar to the flightless Takahe from New Zealand CREDIT: Tim Blackburn

Is there no escaping extinction?

A recent study came out showing that up to 1000 bird species went extinct when humans first colonized Pacific islands several thousand years ago. Wouldn’t it be great if we could get all those birds back?

Wouldn’t it be even better if we never had to lose another species?

That’s my hope and the point of my trip this week to Nicaragua – to work with Paso Pacifico and their yellow-naped amazon conservation project.  At the Miami airport as I wait to catch the next flight, however, I see a man reading the April edition of National Geographic, which highlights de-extinction and find myself pulled into that hope.  Maybe we can’t keep amazons and macaws on the planet, this time, but next time for sure after we de-extinguish them.

How does one bring back an extinct species?  Last week I wrote about the process of de-extinction.  We simply regrow new individuals out of DNA present in bodies and body parts adorning museum and university nooks and crannies the world over.  Well, there is no “simple” about it and I’m motivated to avoid that drastic, expensive, and ethically fraught procedure.

Fossilized Elephant Bird Egg for Se

Admittedly my imagination does run wild to think of rewilding areas with animals of the past.  Hitting the news about the same time as the public introduction of de-extinction was the announcement of the auction of a fossilized elephant bird egg. This was one of the largest birds known to have existed, and went extinct due to colonization of Madagascar. No other egg is larger.  I’m not quite sure if scientists could find a surrogate species whose egg is large enough to hatch an elephant bird, but this doesn’t keep me from seeing a giant ground bird running amongst us today.  I wonder if they would run in flocks, (or is that herds if they are ground birds?).  If you pressed you ear to the ground you could hear them coming a long way off? And surely you’d need advance notice of their approach, as the elephant bird park guides would explain as they shuffled you onto giant all terrain vehicles shielded with reinforced steel.

I am not the only one to get carried away with de-extinction. Coming out around April fool’s day I’m guessing that this article about kakapo de-extinction was meant to amuse.  In this piece the author suggests mass producing endangered kakapo parrots out of chicken eggs (a more equal match in egg size compared to what might be done with the elephant bird). These birds could then be introduced as a preferred alternative to cats as home companions.  In this way, cat populations would decrease, which would subsequently increase population numbers of kakapos and other wild birds which are threatened by hunting cats allowed outdoors or who have gone feral.

It’s great to have some fun, ease, and even hope around the serious issues of losing what could have been loved in person, instead of in the imagination.  The elephant bird in the room however is why we grasp after strategies that might bring about our dreams, with little work on our own part.  We think that we could have species once again amongst us after “those scientists” do their thing.

I say we all need to be those scientists, citizen scientists.  Sure, go ahead and enjoy the lure of de-extinction, but look to the reality that spurs us on to such fantasy.

Thousands of species no longer live on islands, and we don’t live on Fantasy Island,

In the U2 song, we hear hauntingly, “I can’t live, with or without you.”  In the case of threatened animals it appears that they cannot live with us, and will not live without us.

It’s not going to get better without each and every one of us.

More positively, it’s going to get better with each and every one of us – “us” of all species.

Let’s go into the matter with the mind sight that we will not suffer the loss of one more, and let this solidarity in intent, if not in actualization, be our hope.