When a later generation writes the history of extinctions in Hawai‘i, November 26, 2004, will probably be carved on the tombstone of the po‘ouli. Shortly before midnight on that date, the aged male bird that had been brought into captivity 10 weeks earlier died.
Two other po‘ouli may still be alive in the rainforests of Hanawi, in east Maui. One is believed to be a female, the other male. Theoretically, that means there’s a chance that the species may survive. Odds are stacked against that outcome, though.
For one thing, the birds are pretty old. The last time anyone saw evidence of a po‘ouli breeding was nearly a decade ago.
Then there’s the fact that the birds’ home ranges do not overlap. An effort to introduce a male and female bird to each other a few years back ended in disappointment. The female bird, which had been caged and carried on foot about a mile to an area within the home range of the male, flew back to her home turf without ever having met her intended suitor.
These are the two birds whose existence biologists are counting on if the species has any chance of reproducing itself. Yet one of them was last seen in December 2003. The last sighting of the other was in February 2004.
Field crews are still hoping to locate these two birds. But, given the sad outcome of captivity for the bird caught in September, the teams involved in the recovery effort have put the captive-breeding plan on hold for now, pend ing a major re-evaluation of options and prospects for success.
Lessons?
What could have been done differently? Per haps the care given to the bird in captivity could have been tweaked in another way, though no one is suggesting its treatment, at the hands of the staff of the Zoo Society of San Diego, was anything less than competent and compassionate. But frankly, by the time the state Department of Land and Natural Resources and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Ser vice launched the last-ditch effort to save the po‘ouli, the species’ fate was all but sealed.
With a global population of just three elderly individuals, any pull-out of the spe cies’ tail-spin would have been an unprec edented achievement. The historic struggle to save the black robins of Chatham Island, New Zealand, looks like a cakewalk by com parison. By the early 1980s, its population was down to five birds, but there was still one breeding pair. Intensive management efforts led to the robin’s eventual comeback.
Perhaps something similar could have been undertaken for the po‘ouli, but such an effort probably would have had to have been launched virtually at the time of the bird’s discovery in 1973.
At that time, there may have still been some glimmer of hope for other species: the Maui ‘akepa (last seen in 1970), or the Maui nukupu‘u (last sighting in 1979), or, on other islands, the O‘ahu creeper (last detected in 1985), the Moloka‘i thrush (1988), and the Kaua‘i thrush (1979). Back then, no one dreamed the ‘alala would be extinct in the wild three decades later, and if some aggres sive management plan had been taken then, perhaps its song still could be heard in South Kona or even on Pu‘uwa‘awa‘a.
Even hindsight cannot tell us all the things that could have or should have been done to spare these creatures from extinction. The one sure lesson we can draw from the fate of the po‘ouli is this: when it comes to protecting Hawai‘i’s irreplaceable and unique species of plants and animals, it is later than anyone thinks. The time for meaningful action was at hand decades ago, and however vigorous our efforts seemed back then – and they did seem appropriately aggressive – they were insufficient for the task at hand.
More than a year ago, the Fish and Wild life Service published a plan for recovery of Hawai‘i’s endangered forest birds. As with most plans of this type, it was received not so much as a clarion call for action as an achieve ment in itself – another box to be checked off in the to-do list to save species.
What is to be Done?
On the positive side of the equation, how ever, the experience of trying to save the po‘ouli has had benefits, even if the po‘ouli itself is past saving. The forest in Hanawi Natural Area Reserve is in terrific shape, with parrotbills and crested honeycreepers appar ently on the increase.
Similar benefits could be expected in other areas on all islands if the effort and re sources were invested. The areas ripe for such intervention are vast, yet often, even when resources are available for managing them, the will to do so is lacking, with the responsible officials quivering in fear of an angry outcry from the politi cally influential hunting lobby.
The time is at hand to decide whether forests of Hawai‘i will be managed for pigs or for birds. Waiting until the 11th hour to decide in favor of the birds is not only hugely expensive, it also has less chance of success than efforts begun at an earlier date.
Let there be no doubt: if the fate of the po‘ouli is not to be repeated a dozen times over in the next few years, now is the time to allocate the funds and commit to the actions needed to head off disaster. And though no one should undervalue the work done to date, the experience of the po‘ouli alone should tell us that what has been accomplished is just a down payment.
It’s Lonely at the Top
Department of Land and Natural Re sources administrator Peter Young may be a bit more sympathetic to the plight of DLNR division chiefs who have seen their workforce pared back under Young’s tenure. Young, who is authorized by statute to have two deputy directors, has none at the moment. And it’s not because of budget cuts, but rather because neither of the two people who had filled the job in December found the prospect of continuing to work with him appealing enough to stay on the job. One, Dan Davidson, took a position with a private landowner; the other, Yvonne Izu, resigned rather than bow to Young’s insistence that she draft testimony at odds with her convictions.
That leaves the big cheese at DLNR stand ing alone. If he can’t attend legislative hearings himself, his division chiefs will have to, in creasing their already heavy burden. If he’s out of town, it is unclear who will be running the shop in his absence. Already the Land Board is canceling meetings rather than hold them whenever Young cannot attend; the fact that there is no system for a vice-chair to run the board’s meetings underscore’s Young’s reluctance, or inabil ity, to delegate authority.
In short, the events of the last month indicate once more that whatever attractive qualities Peter Young may possess, as head of the DLNR, he’s the wrong person in the wrong job. He would do the state of Hawai‘i a favor by tendering his resignation at once.
— Patricia Tummons
Volume 15, Number 9 March 2005
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