David versus Goliath - Brief Article

The gray, beady-eyed little bird in the cage seems an unlikely candidate for a savior. He has just learned to fly and lands hitting the perch with his stomach. His feathers are mixed with chick down that sticks straight out from his head, giving him a startled look. Still, this ounce-and-a-half juvenile is an unwitting soldier in the battle to save his species.

He is a Puaiohi (poo-eye-OH-hee), or small Kauai thrush. Myadestes palmeri in the lingo of science. The last few hundred of his kind in the wild live only in Hawaii's mist-shrouded Alakai Swamp. More a rainforest than a swamp, the Alakai sits above 3,500 feet on the island of Kauai. It is filled with mossy trees and giant ferns, and cut by precipitous ravines. The Puaiohi flit about the under-story and forest floor, nip insects and berries, and nest in the ravine walls.

The Alakai, one of the last refuges for native forest birds on Kauai, has already lost some of its unique feathered residents. It is here that the last O'o and O'u birds were ever seen, in the 1980s. Now hope rests with this young Puaiohi to help save his species from also vanishing into the stillness of extinction. He was hatched and raised by hand at the Keauhou Bird Conservation Center on the island of Hawaii. Puaiohi bred here are being released back into the Alakai to give the wild population a boost.

Established in 1996 to breed a number of endangered Hawaiian bird species, the center is a partnership of the San Diego Zoological Society, the Peregrine Fund, and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. It started with 15 Puaiohi eggs taken from the wild (the birds usually lay replacement eggs, a process known as double clutching). To reach the nests, biologists rappelled down ravines, carrying with them a picnic cooler filled with warm millet to cushion the eggs and keep them warm. Back at the center, the eggs were incubated at exactly 100 degrees Fahrenheit and turned five times a day. The hatchlings weighed the equivalent of a Hershey's kiss without the foil. They had to be fed with jeweler's tweezers.

How Hawaii came to need an intensive-care unit for so many of its birds is a story that began millions of years ago, when somehow a few forest birds traversed 2,000 miles of ocean. Over the aeons, their descendents evolved into many new and unique species. Some, like the Puaiohi, became unique to a particular island. In a land without mammals, snakes, humans, and mosquitoes, they needed no defenses against such threats. Then things changed.

About 1,600 years ago, Polynesians in oceangoing canoes discovered the islands. They brought with them taro and breadfruit and cut down the lowland forests to farm. They made yellow-feather capes for their nobles, using as many as 40,000 birds for a single cape.

True disaster struck, however, in the late 1800s when Europeans sailed into Hawaii's harbors. Two new species of rats added to the rats brought by the Polynesians. They climbed trees and devoured eggs, chicks, and birds. Larvae in the ships' drinking water hatched into mosquitoes that carried avian pox and malaria, diseases that could fell some native birds after a single bite. Sugar cane, pineapple, and logging wiped out more forests. European boars interbred with the Polynesians' small pigs, and the offspring ran wild. They uprooted tree ferns, ate out the core, and left an indentation where water gathered and more mosquitoes bred. Imported plants ran wild as well and crowded out native species on which the birds depended for food. Today Kauai remains under siege from all these factors.

For months before and after the first captive-reared Puaiohis were released, two biologists trapped and poisoned rats in the Alakai. In the wet, steep terrain, it was arduous, time-consuming work. In 1999, 15 birds were outfitted with radio transmitters and released. To everyone's delight, they immediately set about breeding, some with each other, some with wild mates. Then one day, the biologists returned to monitor a female they had watched the day before on her eggs. They found only bits of feathers and rat droppings. At another nest, they found two chicks with their skulls crushed and brains eaten; the mother's body lay in the undergrowth.

Eventually five young fledged and the next year, five more captive-reared birds were released. But this time, the money for monitoring past 30 days was cut. No one knows how many survived or raised chicks.

Scientists believe that the only way to give Hawaii's native birds a fighting chance is to knock back the rat population. Unfortunately, the only feasible way to do this may be through the use of rodenticides. Tests are under way to determine the safety and effectiveness of aerial applications. Meanwhile, by next February, more captive-reared Puaiohis will be ready for release. Among them may be this little warrior.

Deborah Knight writes on wildlife and conservation issues for Animals and other publications.

COPYRIGHT 2000 Massachusetts Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals
COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group