Stringers are globally threatened!

From the time of skins, flint & fire tales of self-indulgence, chronicled from generation to generation & unfettered by cultural nuance, feature prominently in the recorded evolution of Homo sapiens (spp.). Homo sapiens avialaedii [ie: birders](the nominate race btw.), extant in South Africa & in other interesting locales around this fine nut, advance the collective good with unsurpassed verve & imagination. It is precisely this craving for perfection; a veritable clawing from within the chasm of excellence, that gives rise to a recorded narrative some of which falls the tiniest twitch short of an ass's tail.

Susceptible as I am to tales, as any other self-respecting H.s.avialaedii must surely be, particularly when birds or birding feature prominently, I confess a naivety unbecoming of the hitherto cynically suspicious. One such story was narrated to me on a cold, miserable, wind-blown night, somewhere between the biscuits & cheese & a stout glass of chamomile for the sandman's ticket. Here it is; I swear it's true..

On a midsummer's day, many summer-seasons past & on an island renowned for its frenetic pace & time-honed honesty, claims of a Siberian Thrush (btw. - a tart's tick it is not) clanged around the grapevine like a well-timed kick to the knicks; a knack the claimant had become notorious for. Notoriety, in the UK twitching-genre, is reputation's straight-jacket & the claimant felt the jacket a tad unfair for truth. 

Notices of intent were posted from pillar to post. Photographic evidence proved the tick extant; a redemption if ever there was. Enlivened by this irrefutable evidence the relenting naysayers mobilised for a lightening raid on the targeted thrush. A spirit of comradery infused the claimant's claim & the prodigal welcomed back into the community bosom. Shockingly the thrush did a duck & flew the coup for none to see..

Closer scrutiny of the claimant's photographic evidence revealed a committee-like anomaly of angle; a trickery of shade & light. The photo was indeed the thrush but a thrush never in life or warmth of heart & feather but of cold clay & of modelled, bad intent. Expertly-tried & subsequently banished to a purgatory of excommunication the claimant wonders still the stringer's fields alone; a trumpet-free legacy of shame.  

It's a sad tale & uniquely incongruous with the founding epithet of I.NUT* for there are no stringers here! A royal tale has terned the page but stringers are indeed the figments of a chronicled past. Not so?



*The International Union of National Twitchers

   

Apathy & the subjective narrative

Welcome to Diaspora* - the online social world where you are in control..        

If you look at social media for what it is & not what we purport it to be, it's much easier to accept an agenda-riddled narrative. The facts are presented as THE objective truth & almost always appeal to a version of morality apposite with the mainstream culture of the consumptive user ie: the reader or the viewer. These are always engineered versions of the founding facts or again, if you prefer, simple subjective assaults on the truth to validate an argument or a response; violent or otherwise.

The Natural World dominates my social media feed; a feed custom-made for the purpose of entrenching my version of reality & it's precisely this subjective reality which compounds susceptibility to engineered versions of the founding facts. It's emotive currency & almost always exploitable -

• Cetaceans ie: whales, porpoises & dolphins feature prominently in my social media feed. [Fact]
• Cetaceans are marine mammals; not fish. [Fact] I've been to Sea World; a proactive institution if ever there was... No? (The movie 'Blackfish' highlights Killer Whales turned killer (there's a shock) from confinement in tanks too small for purposes of recreational / financial exploitation. [Simply appalling.])
• Cetaceans are eaten, by people. [Fact; at least as far as I can tell.] I've never actually eaten one nor seen anyone do so myself.
• Cetaceans are intelligent, sentient beings. [One of my own presupposed / founding facts]
• Cetaceans are brutally butchered in acts of violence so abhorrent that the very fabric of morality screams bloody murder. [A subjective fact.]
• Cetaceans murdered in the Faroes [Denmark administered] & in Taiji [Japan] is a poke in the eye of good people everywhere.. [An emotive conclusion to a subjective fact - & certainly for the individuals either butchered / to be butchered]

The logical interpretation premised on this 'fact' is a damning of the Danes (vicariously), the Faroese & definitely the Japanese!   AHOY Sea Shepherd - here's my wallet & yes the irony of fighting violence with violence is not lost on me as long as the subjective morality of the narrative justifies the action...

The Faroese & the Japanese have exploited harvested cetaceans for generations. In the Faroe Islands locals justify their grindadrap ('The Grind' ie: the annual, sustainable utilisation of Pilot Whales) in tradition or in cultural heritage. The socio-economic benefits are 'clear..' & the distributed meat feeds (1st-world) people largely reliant on the seas for sustenance... In Taiji Japanese whalers herd a plethora of dolphin / porpoise species [per quota] into coves & harvest the lot, mostly for the table, although to be fair some do end up in captivity..

We Some of us berate the Chinese / Vietnamese for their obsessive animal-product demands, a consumptive abhorrence* based on ignorance an inherited tradition & yet so many dissenting voices wear diamonds on their gnarly digits; mere stones & assigned an impossible / improbable value - another equally ignorant inherited tradition. You could argue that stones don't suffer the slaughter & that's true specific to the stones but perhaps not as true for the child-slave in the pit.

When tradition or culture perpetuates the inhumane exploitation of free-roaming species then it is incumbent on each & every one of us, men & women, to live up to the very highest standards dictated by conscience; an obligation or compass if you like without which we cannot claim custody of good & evil. When the left is pitted against the right & the Shepherds blockade tradition we, the literate / fence-hugging, undecided many sit in truthful judgement; a judgement of conscience rather than of subjective interpretation.

Humanity finds itself at a moral crossroad & as individuals, on a macro level, we have to concede that doing nothing is simply a contradiction of our own humanity.

Bird Island - Doing science!

ACCESS STRICTLY VERBODEN!

For the great unwashed it's positively, absolutely & definitely no bloody entry. So we went in...where the good birds are.

The enforcement authorities' anti-this-&-that boat, launched from Port Elizabeth's Coega harbour, would get us there.

Displayed more generously than is, perhaps, socially desirable, particularly in civilised ornithological company, our 'Doing Science' passes flapped idly in the 30 knot Eastern Cape blow. Clearing the Port's security bunker, however, was an unexpected joy; a leisurely affair & a bagful of bureaucratic highlights. Cavity searches, obfuscation of intent and asset forfeiture, the de rigueur.

Sunrise on Bird Island

Much later that month two non-science (pffffft) ladies joined us on board for a day-excursion thus giving rise to the perpetual moral dilemma men face at sea, whilst becalmed, in port, waiting for clearance. There are NO gentlemen-facilities at Coega. None! Trees are few; cover conspicuously shorter than desirable.. Piddling one's wet-suit is one thing, doing the same in one's sandals is positively frowned upon, particularly in a boat built for 6. The delay we enjoyed at the security bunker and the soothing sway of the RIB [ie: rubber-duck], masquerading as 'boat' & afloat in our eyeballs, was somewhat illuminating. It takes a real man to preempt drowning, challenge the laws of public indecency & beg for the side of the boat... Only the desperate accept a headwind challenge too!

The 60 kilometers, or so, ex-Coega's Ngqura port (or 'ntssk -ah' in phonetic Xhosa) to the Bird Island archipelago is fabulous fun, particularly if you enjoy alternatively smashing your forehead on the floor and embedding one's teeth in the individual's skull alongside. My son, Sean, who joined me on this trip in Alisha's absence & whose cranium is a marvel of well-bred engineering, provided some perspective. Fortunately it's only a 50 minute mosh or sense might have come a-knocking, a terror I've successfully avoided thus far.

Propelled thusly by twin out-boards & @ full throttle or at 70 kph in 4 ft swell, the archipelago's sudden appearance on the blur brought a trickle to me eye.. Then again it might have been Neptune's lost sea alternatively squelching underfoot or snaking down my forehead; a polite reminder that it was in fact winter and sea on one's head has a chill factor almost as high as my wife's after a late-returning business meeting ..

We hove-to alongside the new jetty, a delight of rickety rust and donations well spent. The archipelago boasts 4 islands of moderate size - Bird Is. [not be confused with Bird Island..] is the largest and most biologically diverse. As an observation island nomenclature is seemingly derived in a barrel o' rum. Bird Is. itself is as the label reads - a rock in the sea upon which roost, breed & squabble many birds. It's an allsorts-packet of avian noise pollution. Nearby Seal Island, however, hasn't enjoyed a basking seal ..since Grand-pappy's first hornpipe. Black Rock is brown. Stag Island hasn't seen a stag unless on an evening before a splicing of the knot. Certainly no young buck here!

186000 Gannets - alongside neglected infrastructure

First impressions notwithstanding what awaits the uninitiated is breathtaking, unnerving even. I'm not ashamed to confess a slack-jawed croak & a shaking of a tearful fist at what I can only describe as an avian mirage. Confronted with this truth it's easy to admit that my birding had been, until then, mostly superficial. The vista was unnatural; the cacophony an auditory assault & the avian soup proof that I stood a charlatan, sadly inept. Truly a privilege & on that point my sincerest gratitude to the two people who asked us along.

Antarctic Tern - Sterna vittata vittata

Lacking the credentials of most researchers invited to Bird, we (Sean & I) were ostensibly on the island to assist on a long-term Roseate (Sterna dougallii) & Antarctic Tern (Sterna vittata) project.

Antarctic Tern - S.v.tristanensis incl.

The tern project involves the capture, morphological measurement (fundamental taxonomic measurements) and alphanumerical marking (for field recognition) of breeding Sterna dougallii & of non-breeding Sterna vittata. Up to 300 pairs of Roseate Tern breed on Bird although we counted only 100 pairs during the week we were there. This is home to the largest breeding Roseate Tern colony in the sub-region; a fragile reminder..

Sterna dougallii

Equally important is the arrival of nbr. Antarctic Tern, in our winter, from both the Indian & Atlantic Oceans. Three distinct races (or subspp) have been recorded on the island. S.v.vittata (the nominate race & our most common visitor) breeds on Kerguelen & Heard Islands; S.v.sanctipauli (contentious) from Amsterdam & St Paul Islands and S.v.tristanensis on Tristan & Gough. Understanding the migration patterns of the various races is trite. Understanding patterns, in turn, is premised on the identification of individuals in the field. Although the ringing of birds is intrusive by definition, particularly near colonies, if done correctly, injuries are negligible if not avoided altogether. The data collected is both fascinating and an essential variable in real-world conservation strategies.

Weather for pelagic vagrants..

To mitigate the impact or stress on roosting / sitting birds mist-netting is conducted at night. Weather vagaries play an important role. For interest rain voids the attempt. Too much wind and the nets become dangerous if not too conspicuous, limiting the catch. Too little wind & the terns either sit tight or remain out to sea. Wind direction, not to be confused with wind strength, plays a part too. During the first three sessions the wind backed out of the SSW. Later in the week the SE was more prominent, veering from the morning's NW. We caught more terns in the SSW than we did [same spot & time with the same equipment] during netting periods with the SE dominant & for reasons science hasn't as yet disclosed to me..

Other than on two nights [Fri / Sat] where we were precluded from ringing, wind speeds varied from an estimated 1 - 5 [Beaufort scale] & here's where it gets interesting. Bird Island & nearby St Croix were proclaimed as part of Addo Elephant NP in 2005. A MPA (Marine Protected Area) was proclaimed around Bird to protect marine resources; abalone or perlemoen being the most important of those resources.

The authorities do their best to enforce the MPA from Bird itself [permanent ranger station] & from Port Elizabeth some 80 kilometers further west. Notwithstanding their efforts, at $420 per kg, the incentive to poach is too tempting for the many well-organised [armed] gangs working the area.

Doing science - S. dougallii [1st caught 1999]

Poachers launch, under cover of darkness, from the nearby Sundays river-mouth. Look-outs, utilising the latest night-vision technology, are posted on hilltops & informants are placed within various organisations. The enforcement task is onerous, to put it mildly. Asia's abalone fever is truly driving the local abalone population to extinction.

Common Tern - note the ivory bill-tip

Wind speeds of less than 5 (ie: 20 knots / 6 ft swell) are ideal for tern-ringing. Those same conditions are also ideal for clandestine activities. Our attitude, as a consequence, was more often than not characterised by abnormal social behaviour; exuberant grumbling even - 'Blow damn you; no bloody wind please..'  It was difficult not to shake a bent-stick at the water-ghosts whilst on mistnet-rounds.

Given that mist-netting is a nocturnal exercise, filling the daylight hours, with effective science, might have proved daunting. It wasn't.

We're the tanker HMS Arrogance. Move! We are a lighthouse

Cue the Cape Gannet; all 186000 of them. [+1 Aussie Gannet (a gannet in a gale-stack)]. The somewhat tedious inconvenience of incessant droppings [sh*t] on one's scalp notwithstanding, the abiding memory on Bird is the sheer sensory assault of the gannet colony.

Morus capensis - more's the point

Ammonia-leaching from guano deposits, underfoot and resplendent on one's head, is an olfactory delight unheralded anywhere else except perhaps in the Ellis Park latrine at half-time. It's uniquely eye-watering.

Grounded gannets secure their spot in a covetous fashion. In final approach the high-pitched oowah -oowah & cranked to a rapid crescendo at landing, is a warning to the missus that daddy is home. Bring beer! Any girls slow on the uptake get reminded of their duties before remorse sets in & the two engage in neck-rubbing & a soothing head-raised 'look-at-my-gular-stripe: woo-woo'. Ah sweet.. Doodle or think of doodling the neighbour's girl & the matter is debated at length. It's a duel of bills; blood flows.

It's easy to get taken in by the spectacle but science demands a more critical eye. 1st order of business -walk around the colony [as apposed to through the colony] noting alphanumeric rings ie: large, coloured rings with visible numbering.

Cape Gannet - circa 186000 of em on Bird

Most ringed birds are banded with a single steel or aluminium-compound ring only. These rings, whilst discernible in the field as rings, are not readily visible for accurate reading. To validate a ringing program the recapture / recognition of individuals is essential. It's hit & miss at best. To alleviate the problem, alphanumeric rings [large, plastic, coloured rings & easily read numbers for field recognition] are affixed to the bird's other leg when first captured. These rings are easily read in the field & migratory data effectively collected & collated.

Sleeping gannets sleep

PLEASE REPORT ANY ALPHA RINGS OR COLOURED RINGS TO SAFRING. [http://safring.adu.org.za/retrap.php]. NOTE THE LEG ON WHICH THE COLOURED RING IS AFFIXED & ALPHA No.  and IN THE ABSENCE OF AN ALPHANUMERIC No. RECORD THE SEQUENCE OF EACH COLOURED RING FROM THE BOTTOM UP. It's fun & it's important.

Sean assists the ranger team - oiled birds

On the forth morning, whilst doing science, we noted a handful of oiled birds ie: befouled by oil / fuel from a passing ship pumping the bilge; in clear & flagrant disregard for international regulations on this point. We had no other alternative but capture the soiled birds & we did so as best we could mitigating the disturbance in the colony. Although the island is equipped with rehabilitation facilities, those are rudimentary at best. Captured birds are re-hydrated & prepared for transport to the mainland where the rehabilitation process is more thorough.

Portnet on routine inspection

Although oiling is in itself not necessarily debilitating if flight is not compromised, birds do, especially severely oiled birds, suffer from insulation loss & for some species that is usually fatal. Penguins are a case in point. Fortunately SANNCOB [http://www.sanccob.co.za/] is at the forefront of seabird rehabilitation & on 24-hour call. They run a volunteer program too.. Don't be shy.

The worst of our birds were removed by helicopter not long afterwards.

Mid-week the weather worsened, equally annoying for ringers & poachers both. Doing science, however, ignores the vagaries of the weather, even at winds of 30 knots plus. Preferring the relative comfort of the 3x3 'Researcher's Hut' [No mistake. We were living the high life..] to the vortex outside, we nevertheless couldn't ignore the pull of science & braved the elements for another scoping foray at the tern colony.

The researcher's abode (Far right)

Shore-based pelagic birding is at its very best when the blow is @ its blowiest. I cannot be sure who elevated the scope away from the colony to the wind-lashed seas [perhaps the wind..?] but science was roundly beaten when a single Wedge-tailed Shearwater (Puffinus pacificus) hove into view, a vagrant to these waters. I confess just a step-to-the-left, then perhaps a step-to-the-right & just maybe, a turn-around or two.. - Woohoo! The scientist banished & the twitcher unshackled but only for a minute.. Doing science proved this bird to be at least one of two regulars to these waters. A single bird was ringed on Bird some years ago; this one wasn't & unless the shoe was thrown this bird was a different individual. A project born?

Sunset in heaven's aviary

Three key species breed on Bird. Roseate Tern, Cape Gannet [Aussie / Cape hybrids - as on Malgas?] & the iconic Donkey of the Sea, the African Penguin. If you stood still long enough a pair of these braying malevolents would call your shoes home. They're everywhere - behind the sink, under the table, under / on / over / behind / in-front of rocks; in burrows / not in burrows; in the bread-bin & bunkered-down in thick vegetation waiting for the unsuspecting egghead to wander past. A sharp, gouging bill-strike to the talus or the posterior talofibular ligament [ie: science for ankle], is a sharp reminder that 2600 pairs breed here & in very limited space.

Spheniscus demersus - U looking at me?

If you think these monsters, veneered in a coat of cute, are warm & fuzzy, think again! Spheniscus demersus is a pompous, unpleasant, devious, bad-tempered, psychopathic bandit of pain hell-bent on clandestine ambush. Nothing fishy here! Science deprived me of a neck to wring & more's the pity! If science has saved its neck then Homo sapiens [Latin for 'wise man' & a misnomer if ever there was] more than tighten the rope.

The A. Penguin population, at the start of the 21st century, is no more than 10% of the number recorded a mere 100 years ago. In three generations breeding pairs have declined from 140000 to circa 25000 today. Why? Purse-seine fisheries - at least that's what the greenies have us believe. Perhaps the fisheries industry would consider funding a neutral team of balanced individuals to conduct research on the affect penguins have on the tin-can industry? Bloody birds could be eating us out of home & pantry!

Seabirds of all shapes & sizes, when threatened, usually get the dry heaves. Be foolish enough to extend your arms for a bracing cuddle & the ensuing projectile paella de marisco will leave you a wet-wipe short of a full-box. Our oiled gannets [see above] were a triumph of forceful expulsion; a processional emesis of anchovy fish. Light-hearted fun for all..

Off to sea to steal a fish from me

Doing science, post-emesis, confirmed a count of 15 anchovies from a single bird. By extrapolation & if we assume No 3. (not too sciencey I know) is a run-of-the-mill kinda gannet & the other 185999, plus the damn Aussie, are also your average Joe's & Jane's, the colony consumes 2789985 fish each day. Oh & that's based on the assumption that they feed only once; greedy buggers. 45 anchovy fillets in a tin .. [116249 tins] @ R32.99 each = R3835066.88 [an exacting science] per day! R3835066.88 = $359088.65 (retail exchange rates) or $131 067360 worth of tinned fish each year (includes the festive season for accuracy). Add those bloated, snappy buggers, all dressed in B&W & it's no wonder the fisheries industry is up in arms!

SA's hake [Science falls apart here. A hake is not an anchovy now is it?] industry accounts for approximately 132000 tonnes per annum or 1% of the global supply. The global supply of 13200000 tonnes at 400 grams per box = 33000000000 boxes @ R32.99 each or R1088670000000 / $105696116500 or 806 similar sized gannet colonies give or take a bird or two [in a leap year add 1].

Here's the equation on a plate - The annual global anchovy catch is circa 10.5 million tonnes [Aye captain, tonnes. (Multiply by 1000 for kilograms & x 1000 more for grams)]. Engraulis capensis [the South African anchovy] is a comparative whopper at 17 cm or 68 grams [approx. (dietary peculiarities excl.)]. That's 15441200000000000 Engraulidae Homo sapiens account for each year & a damn sight more fishy than you might have guessed.

Namibia's breeding population has crashed by 95%. The Engraulis encrasicolus (European Anchovy) collapse is, perhaps, just a coinkydink

One last snippet of science if I can. If a twin-outboard dingy doesn't tie up @ the jetty & the swell is 4 ft, how far must a scientist leap to stay out of the sea?

Not far enough as I found out to a strangled bleat, betwixt the boat & dry land and to the amusement of the crew... Two cracked ribs a reminder that the science on Bird stays on Bird!