Ticking the Tweeters

We share our home with a milky-eyed Yorkie. He tolerates his own company - halitosis & flatulence his bedtime mates - to the dismay of most everyone else in an ever-widening circle of influence... He's done his time; is a steady fixture & knows his way around the place but if there's a rat in the kitchen, he'll get bitten on the arse. #BBD2018's Wilge River Valley proved to be 'our kitchen'... & we ended a handful short of 300; our target for the day. Others were more successful. 

You may think hero-worship, in our 40-something years, bears witness to levels of antisocial behaviour yet undocumented, but I don't care & if I was you, I'd listen to me. Them 3 or 4 (300+sp.) teams, who whipped us gud & proppa, deserve their ribbons. They're that good. These are our avocation's true A-listers; the rest of us & the hit, tick & run brigade, the beggared cousins in an eclectic family blessed with more than most. 

That out of the way - we're not comfortable out, looking in - & we'll be back for more, in the next. This time we'll come packing.  

Mkhombo Dam - on the very brink... [That's us in its middle]

In the early 80s the late, great Ted Parker & compatriot, Scott Robinson, legendary ornithologists based in Peru's Madre de Dios, obliterated the Birding Big Day record; & Madre de Dios it was; still is. They put to bed the hitherto moot point that field-craft is its own reward but experience and planning are key. 

Some years later Kenya bettered their score, by a handful, but it was only 35 years later that the 'impossible' was achieved & the standing record shattered by more than 20%. The previous record of 350-odd is today's Ecuadorian 431 - a record in which South Africa played a minor part. Their achievement is a staggering display of field-craft; a function of that country's biodiversity merged & centred into a small geography; & mostly, the result of careful planning. 

When it comes to 'So you want to compete in a 24-hour birding challenge' mortals rely on these few obligate rules:

1. 'Scout, scout & scout some more' [ref. John Arvin, ditto 2 - 13].
2. Review & practice the route [outcomes-based learning].
3. Weather happens [Plan B].
4. Learn the birds [... duh].
5. Every bird counts as one [move along]. 
6. Cellphone & contact numbers are useful [a select few will do]. 
7. Compile a hit-list [of the birds that is]
8. Make the night hours count [bring a light]
9. Maximise the night hours, Part 2 [somewhat confusing initially but clear when the sun sets 10 short of a whole number].
10. Maximise the most important time of the day [Dawn chorus].
11. Plan the route to coincide with 'typical' bird activity [assuming 'typical' is the new normal].
12. Make the most of the 2nd-most important time of the day [sandwiched between afternoon tea & pre-evening prayers].
13. Utilise the twilight hours [crepuscular bits & bobs].

How'd we do:

1. Scout sum more - Scout? Tick; a morning's session, the week before. None since November's #BBD2017. Scout some more? Nope.
2. Practice the route - Nope. Sorry.
3. Weather happens - Blue skies & hail the size of small peas - our usual Highveld smoothie. 
4. Learn the birds - we're gold-star members... [I was wrong...once; on a Tuesday I think... & Tuesday is a work-day; doesn't count.] 
5. Every bird = 1  [(tick tock - tickety tock)] 
6. Contact numbers are useful - particularly when Mkhombo's false-crust grabs @ yer! Ask them 3 who was stuck; bravado / naivety & al' that. We were cool. To be honest, in our halcyon days, we spent 20 hours in Mkhombo's loving embrace; hours plastered in fresh cow pats & reeking of the nougat-gloop; a gloop comprised, at face value, of raw sewage & fish long deceased  ...  u n f o r g e t t a b l e.      Since those show-off days, an adjusted insurance excess demands a lighter brush. We tread more lightly.  
7. Compile a hit-list - the least we could do: in vibrant colour on excel - the week before; & printed in B&W, the night before. A shade of dark grey for green & a darker shade of grey for red; 'green' the must-haves; & in 'red': the nice-to-haves... To say that the Two Shades of Grey tested Lish's vows, in darkness, is an astonishing understatement. 'Love & cherish' [obey?] etc. - it's in the contract, dear. 
8. Make the night hours count - like thieves with a stolen bag, we hurtled into the night & stood around, feeling foolish when the spotlight's globe stretched; said "pop" & then promptly rolled over & went back to sleep - for sh*ts & giggles, I think. 
9. Maximise the day's last hours [night] Part 2 - we were in bed by 9pm.
10. Maximise the important times of day - Social birdies @ dawn; ducks & wadey-things, on water [duh... @ midday]; birdies in parties for a late snack & a sundowner chat - late afternoon; & night critters @ night. Tick. 
11. Plan the route to coincide with 'typical activity' & make use of the afternoon - see 'travelling birdies' etc. above. That said, bush first then the cliffs, next time. 
12. Utilise the twilight hours - we did, for sandwiches, tea & rusks. We keep an open mind & an even sharper ear. 

Sorting through the muck

So... an F then!

Given our levels of commitment & commensurate preparation, an F was the inevitable consequence of birding blind where even the one-eyed could be king. In particular, at the first salvo of the pre-dawn's chorus, we found ourselves out-back, begging in. A bum wrap really & we scratched as best we could; acting on instinct rather than on know-how. We hadn't a clue -  the same underlying fear that featured most of the day. We missed a handful of the Wilge Valley's localised sp. & those 5 or 6 added-up to us falling-short by ...  5 or 6. 

The dogma implicit in competitive birding, is knowing where the birds should be. Knowing where the birds are, however, is the hack that actually wins the race. Truth is, we blundered blindly about the kitchen & were nipped on the bum, pants down. Perversely, however, the Wilge Valley's good graces lent us Klaas's Cuckoo & an Alpine Swift - 2 omissions on the 'prep. list'. These & others are the testament to 'luck' - our guiding principle & the source of our limited success; however inconsequential. 

Further afield, we turned the corner [literally] on Bronze-winged Courser, African Grass Owl & a pair of roosting Caspian Tern. Where experience proved invaluable, however, was in 'knowing where & when' to bumble for rare & localised individuals including the Short-tailed Pipit. The Lesser Masked Weaver's range-expansion, into the northern-most edge of our encircled traverse, was also unexpected. That area's unimaginably dry conditions are at the root cause of change - the birds included. 

The 'bird of the day' provided instant gratification but failed to make the list. We'd 'gone-in' to find Pygmy Goose & White-backed Duck - & those were nice. On the periphery - a tern... Too far away to be sure & behind the 'Staff Only' stay-out or be-killed notice. The "Gull-billed Tern" circled the vignette at the very edge of the scope's vision. The tick [invaluable usually but just one on a list of others, remember?] - would have been a 30 minute scramble into 'no-access' &, in context, a 'tick' that could never be, given the late-afternoon's demands - tick-tock; tickety-tock. The tern proved an untickable compromise on a self-'adjudicated' list; a list determined by the strength of its weakest link and, let's be honest, a tainted list is the worst kinda post-match edit. 

[File image]

At the 19th hour we made our final stand in the far north-western corner of the traverse for hoped-for stragglers & I must admit, we were lucky. Our last & final addition was a Southern White-faced Owl; a hoot really & testament to the day's fun. We could have transferred back to Rust de Winter, 40-odd kilometres back from whence we'd just come, for Verreaux's Eagle Owl - our bankable, last-minute 'break in emergency only' bolt-on, but the spirits were low. That & a threatening electrical storm cooled the adrenaline that had flowed strongly since late Thursday. I suppose 295 means more, but in increments of 'we've fallen short', 5 or 6 didn't matter (much). 

If structure & planning are the pillars of preparation, it's little wonder our roof caved when the storm threatened. We were under-gunned & we'll fix that, next outing. Where we won-out, however, was in the time spent in the field. The morning's sunrise will live-on long after '294' fades into darkness. The thunderstorm's light-show flashing intermittently over dusty plains, was equally compelling; the hail not so much. Mkhombo Dam, a fixture on the local circuit, is a shadow of its glory-days - & perhaps a reminder that 550 kilometres chasing birds is an indulgence we can ill-afford. That said, we've spent the best of times, often under trying conditions, pursuing the avian waifs that get us out o' bed, in the middle of the night. It's a shared experience. That & more are the pillars of why we do what we do, if anyone cares to ask - & it's also why we'll do it again; just better [with luck]. 

  

#Birding Big Day 2018 - 'preparations'

Birdlife's Birding Big Day [#BBD2018], juxtaposed on our local Wider Gauteng Challenge, lends some black & white authenticity to what is usually a colourful year; at least it should do, but doesn't.

We're committed to another #BBD, at the 11^th hour, in a farcical quest for 'exclusivity' that is almost an obsession. It's laughable and ... & we've had that chuckle. What fun eh, if you can't have a poke in the mirror?

...usually a colourful year

For those of you who don't know, Birding Big Day is a sub-regional, 24-hr birding marathon usually held in late November. Teams [max. 4 pax], select their preferred route and record as many bird species as they can within the allotted time. All routes are limited to the habitat within the confines of a 50 km radius; the radius calculated from any selected, central point.

Teams cover most of the region's geography & yes, it's competitive & no, nobody gets culled from the flock. Crying is universal if the weather or 'the list' fails to meet expectations. Almost certainly this year's attempt will be our last; at least it will be in Gauteng's North Eastern Woodlands, the same route we return to [again] this year.  

What fun eh, if you can't have a poke in the mirror?

In 2005, the Raiders of the Lost Lark, a pioneering, competent team of 4, broke through the magical 300 barrier; that's 300 species recorded [seen / heard / 'suspected' (perish the thought)] in 24 hours. Their route traversed the North Eastern Woodlands east and NE of Gauteng's Pretoria. Since then, other teams have tried to emulate their success & failed. I know we have, without much joy and I'll tell you why - no imagination.

In recent years, the Limpopo's Zonke iNyone have set new highs, recording lists in excess of 325 species. Fair dinkum - nicely done & al' that, but 330 falls short of 350 and we know 350 rounds-down to the next break-thru, up. The record's better, of course - revolutionary, probably not. Elsewhere, Mpumalanga has seen its own winning crack @ 300. I'm not aware of a KZN 300, a hinterland 300 or even a coastal 300 - ducks ripe for the plucking, methinks, if these haven't, in fact, been plucked before. 

The Raider's accomplishment is detailed in their co-authored [& locally funded] book - 'The Chamberlain Guide to Birding Gauteng' [page 201]. Local birders, worthy of that recognition, consider a copy essential reading. It's that good and I mention the book because therein lies the nexus of the farce. Within its pages are a lifetime's learning & experience laid out like a Japanese karesansui - i.e in neat, cleanly-raked piles. Extensive, easy-reading text covers the subject matter broadly without detracting from the more technical aspects of the many routes recommended, the habitats traversed and the species represented en route. In fact, all but a complimentary silver spoon is included. 

Those of us, & we are legion, who follow the original trail & don't tip a hat to its founding members, are bastions of plagiarism & residents on Cloud Cuckoo-land. It's peacocking at the pub with a pretty girl - the same girl whose favours are sure, rather than pure; for a small price, that is. This is a small community and we're all strangers to sobriety. There'll be a few sniggers. 

Over the months preceding the Raider attempt, the team logged 4000 km of preparatory reconnaissance, criss-crossing the North Eastern Woodlands multiple times in an effort to fine-tune the *time [*'of day' & minutes] spent @ each locale. By way of comparison, Alisha was out yesterday &, pink-slip in-hand, I spent that time 'cross-checking' the current conditions against the given theory - i.e. driving segments of the Raider-route. We haven't been to the North Eastern Woodlands since #BBD2017. Additionally, we kept an eye on the mini-#BBD results [something new] & noted the current gen. - the who, where, what & why. No point ignoring tickety-boo research, is there? Facebook gave me... nothing. To be fair, attempts have been made to collate & publish current gen. on the local conditions; a request that largely went un-mucked; manure flying everywhere. One luminary requested help timing the Raider-route; i.e. to optimise their yummiest score (presumably). These be new standards for 'birding by numbers'. Get out there man - do your thing.

To be honest, a fair-to-middling breakfast, some literacy, a working knowledge of local bird calls and a tankful of fuel - clockwise or anti-the clock - & viola - you've shot & scored. 'Tis that easy & yes, Dear Socialite - if you don't get to 250 on the Raider-route; well now, there be sniggers...

Extending the 'Research' effort ([i.e. sifting] through Facebook) - an unwinding of the clock, à la Dr Strange, if you will - I came across one or two rehashed / recycled posts - completely unrelated to this  blog btw. [... yes, yes - the attention span of a gnat. I know]. The posts had, as a common thread, the gnashing of wills & the wringing of hands. These lamented the veracity of some of the species 'seen' and subsequently recorded on the Wider list; species deemed impossible, questionable &, in a nutshell: - the jolly-good-rogering of Ol' Man Plausible hisself! Not nice. Fact is, most were fat finger errors - & a fairly obvious observation... Even so, giving in to these terrors of the night, these Post-tits publicly harangued **Birdlasser [**listing software & a local delicacy @ no cost; bless 'em (get it)] to automate intellectual space & weed out these enfante terrible for eva... If only the punters knew who 'they' were - handles, avatars & alter-egos the fog on the antagonistic claim & ironically, the antithesis of good judgement.  

Erratum included two Dodos, a Moa, a partridge in a pear tree and, heaven's above - a Dusky Indigobird; an extant species not noted for its notoriety in suitable habitat but a celebrated poltergeist in Wider, if ever there was. The African Firefinch, an uncommon resident here, & the recipient of said Indigobird's unsolicited attentions, is not complaining. Who wants an unwanted cock in the hen-house? 

Others lament the inclusion of the migratory (ubiquitous) Eurasian Reed Warbler, a dead-ringer for the African Reed Warbler; & species considered 'inseparable' in the field. Nobody likes a smart arse but... 

A competent ringer [them who knows & them who rings] knows that moult characteristics, during a brief, annual window are such that the two can be / are / should be (?) reliably separated, open-minded views & a physical presence at the sighting, essential reading of course. 

Therein lies the rub - thee hav' t'get thee 'ands dirty, often. It's the same 'scruff of the neck' attitude implicit in the preparatory regimen of the most successful #BBD participants. Anything else is sloppy.

Nobody likes a smart arse but... 

Here's hoping fresh-faces break new ground during #BBD2018 - & by 'new ground' I mean new routes, new habitats - new exciting venues. Isn't that the point? 50 species recorded from the confines of a three-legged pot, in cramped conditions, sans salt & in a single, dank crepuscular period, is surely more impressive than my 250 sp. on the long walk to boring? These & more I'd like to see, hear from - & read sum-more (on). Please.

Whatever we do on #BBD2018; how ever many we record - 200 or 302+, whatever - the fact remains, these are chartered waters; documented waters and kudos to the Raiders, lest we forget. They are the true pioneers & the exclusivity of the claim is theirs. Theirs is an achievement not matched in contemporary ticks, however incremental and even if the ensuing years refine the recipe. 

The measure is the success that comes from imagination & hard graft. Basking in the shade of the four-fathers is fool's-gold & unoriginal. 

This year we haven't walked the extra mile & that devalues the claim and I, for one, am sorry for it. Then again, if we get to 350... all bets are off the table. 


...if we get to 350... all bets are off the table. 

A bird in hand - Zaagkuildrift

Pearl-spotted Owl

We were pulled-over by an admin. account dressed in pimples & sailing at full-mast with an old bangerful of friends. Foregoing the usual how-de-dos & the other social subtleties that define good-breeding, we humoured the pseudo-intellectual & drilled down to sub-species for a Yellow Wagtail we'd 'seen' earlier.

Designed to put me in my place, the interrogation was accompanied by sniggers from the juvenile squad in-back; fun to anticipate... High in impudence & low on wit, this macher is symptomatic of SA twitching often feral & rancid.

Nobody gets a pass but if the middle-finger resides somewhere in the correct answer, then I guess we had the last laugh.

Ridiculous

I don't want to dwell on the riddikulus - (good people, bird) - but when I see "last seen at about 06h45 after which it disappeared and has not been seen since" [SA Rare Birds], I tend to revert to the mean of 'who dunnit?'. 

Don't kid yoursel'.     Some-dimwit-did.

One or two years ago, I pooh-poohed Birdlife SA's concerns on 'birding with a camera ' & ' the lost art of field-observation ' - fair bunkum, prima facie, or so I thought. Turns out I was wrong.

Endemic in the system is the inferred right of access covered in the Ts & Cs of "My Camera & I" - self-promotion that vindicates Birdlife's concern & more's the pity; a knob does not a photographer make.

Most laughable are the copyright watermarks splashed across photos that can only be described as once seen / forgotten. Why average point-&-shoot photography courts fame in emperor's new clothes, beats me.

That said, occasionally we get out far enough to see the birds; not having had the chance for much since autumn.

In the field 'learning'

Zaagkuilsdrift, on the Limpopo / North West border, is purity in a bottle & we took along a bib & spoon for as much as we could get. We doubled the calories and packed the nets. There are few joys, in-hand, better than a bird in full HD.

We stayed at Wolfhuiskraal, the area's grand old dame - and the holiday-home of rare birds & the not-so-secret jewel of the drift. Why anybody would stay anywhere else, boggles, to say the least. 

Complain bitterly if you're taken elsewhere! 

At Wolfhuis, punters have free access, functional facilities and an unrestricted view of peace & quiet. It's a moment of random joy. 

As these things go, the weather turned bitter. The wind was more than a zephyr and the rain lashed dust, then mud onto anything we cared to slip & show. We should have done a cool running in nix but nought - these plains hold that joy in early summer; but courage balks @peepers-in-de-bush and the thought of thorns & satellites. 'Another time' perhaps / never comes.

Bacon on the hoof

In the periods between squalls, however, we featured owls, finches, waxbills, shrikes, starlings et al and a Duroc / F1-cross. The birds we banded (ringed); the sow we coveted on a plate with eggs but left her to her own; the sternest of warnings notwithstanding.

Regrettably, the weather extended into the early evening and put a damper on the itinerary's 'starlit' fire-side hot chocolate & a tale. 

The same development voided front-seat tickets to the late night's owling session. Fortunately, the pitter patter, on old thatch, filled our cups to overflowing - treasure banked for when next we're ambushed by Sir Dancelot on a quest for status; but take heed, my friend - Motacilla flava flava is easier on the eye than it would be wedged in your craw.

Marion Island - the ugly truth

"The path to least resistance leads to crooked rivers & crooked men" [Henry David Thoreau]

I picked up a copy of Peter Ryan's 'Guide to SEABIRDS of Southern Africa' & was struck by the recurring theme - '... high chick mortality due to mouse predation.' That tends to get annoying. 

Appended nearer the front of the publication are graphic images of partially devoured [still living] albatross chicks. The images were captured on Tristan da Cunha's Gough Island - the culprit - Mus musculus or the House Mouse.

Mice were brought to Gough Island [a World Heritage Site today] by 19^th century seal-whackers &, since then, have evolved into creatures 50% larger & a good deal meaner than their greatest grand-daddies. 

Preferring a more balanced diet - today's mouse muscles sitting birds, often 300x heftier; & bites off as much as it can chew. Some 900 000+ seabirds, including the Atlantic Petrel & the Tristan Albatross, succumb to these supersized ghouls [nearly 2 million strong] each year. The Gough Bunting isn't faring any better. As a consequence, better late than incompetent, the Tristan Island Council [à la 'Lord of the Flies' if "Chief Islander" is anything to go by], working with the UK's RSPB, have developed their Gough Island Restoration Programme [mooted for 2019]. The intention is multi-faceted, yet simple - serve the Mus musculus community a poisoned apple & whilst the hunting party's out & about - eradicate an alien plant for being a touch too rowdy. 2 for the price of 1. The funders will be thrilled... 

Since I have the conch I have to ask - why has it taken so long? The standard one-size-fits-all defence either blames the sealers or amorphous funding. I don't think so...

Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in the mildewed halls of Academia - blinkered men & women often described as the uncontested champions of impotent communication, vacillation, & donor-dollar compliance. These luminaries, disconnected from the 'real' world, see no personal gain from public participation & focus exclusively on their own research community as a result. Academia is not the crucible of creativity once lauded as vocationally systemic. The cracks are there for all to see. 

Gough's carbon copy plays out, under similar circumstances, some 3800-odd kilometres to the south east. 

The Prince Edward Islands Group, including Marion Island, one of two volcanic spits of land (24km x 16km), is a sub-Antarctic archipelago in the Southern Ocean's 'Roaring 40s'. It's also front and centre in the 'Guide to Seabirds..' & a haven for supersized mice exploring their own Den of Shadows. Nobody likes them; the mice that is - not the islands. Here's more:

• In 1803 seal-wackers & penguin-stickers landed on Marion Is. to pursue their trade in oil & gloves. Nearby Prince Edward Island [not to be confused with THE Prince Edward Islands] was too steep a climb to drag a pot; still is. Whilst on Marion, the gentry found signs of earlier habitation and history assumes Cpt. Cook & others had landed on the island a century or so before. 

• In 1947/48 the South African government annexed the archipelago (ie: expropriated w/o compensation); & glued the islands onto that country's Western Cape province. A 2100-odd kilometre ocean-transect baffles pedestrians intent on hiking from Cape Town to Marion. I assume earlier trekkers suffered the same annoyance; waterproof boots notwithstanding. 

• Before the annexation, whackers & stickers, hailing from all walks, incl. Cape Town, enjoyed free rein; unimpeded by hygiene or a care for tōmorgen. The Southern Elephant Seal was clubbed & blubbed until circa 1930 when populations were considered too low to pay the harbour-master. The sealers left in a bit of a huff, at a guess.  

• After the annexation, meteorologists made island-life liveable & set up a Stevenson Screen - history tells us to establish de facto ownership & to 'study' the weather. Punters, on a free-ride, have been rotating out of Cape Town, ever since. The sealers returned, club-less & in white coats. Armed with clip-boards, telemetry & cheap dye, these doctrinaires continue to shake & stir the local wildlife, for science. 

• In 1830 Richard Harris [not of Harry Potter fame - although who can be sure?] was the first person to have observed [ie: collected] seabirds on Marion Is. Why none of the others looked up, before Harris did, is proof enough that Harris is indeed a wizard. Other wizards still shake a stick at birds today. 

The seals settled back into some sort of routine, post their 1930 knock-about; but wait 'till you hear what happened to the birds AFTER the white-coats arrived. Listen to this:

In 1949, fed-up with holes in the oats bag, the weathermen brought cats to Marion. The island was infested - yessir indeed - Mus musculus ie: mice. Stuart Little & his descendants had jumped ship centuries before and had occupied the building. 5 cats: a ginger castrate - 1 b&w queen - & 3 kittens warmed their tuchis at Marion's hearth. Although Ginger's heart wasn't in it & what goes on tour, stays on tour; the evidence was overwhelming. The 1949 - (5) became the 1977 - (3405)... 

In 1975 one of the resident numpties tore himself away from the wind-sock & ventured outdoors. There he discovered that two tins & a fish wouldn't satisfy the feral mob, even if the fat-cats inside were carrying on regardless. Mice can be tricky - even for cats - better the burrow-nesting birds. The cats were catching & eating 450 000+ birds (est.) per annum. Nobody'd noticed; slap-happy & scrabble at the fire, much more fun. By 1977 the Common Diving Petrel, Grey Petrel and Soft-plumaged Petrel had all but disappeared from Marion [ie: they were locally extirpated]. 

In 1977 'it was agreed', by committee & after years of peer-reviewed debate, that the Marion Island Cat Eradication Programme would be a foot forward for Marion's remaining resident birds. Rather than get their hands mucky, however, even if their consciences were tainted, the white-coats introduced biological warfare to the island [ie: Feline panleucopenia (FPV)] - an infectious, highly-contagious cat-targeting pathogen which compromised the cats' immune system. They died in droves. 

The seals, meanwhile, watched for hakapiks but this fight wasn't theirs. By 1982 only 615 cats remained. The Feline Resistance was determined, however & with one hand on the exit knob, continued to procreate. In 1986 the white-coats rolled-out their Final-status plan. Eight '2-man teams' armed with buck-shot & a torch, jack-lit the remaining 800-odd cats & cancelled their membership one-by-one; until the teams got bored that is. One or two Top Cats remained unaccounted for. In 1989, traps tackled these Rambo-cats & in 1991, Marion was declared cat-free; even if, perhaps, idiot-free it was not.  


I put my heart & my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process. [Vincent van Gogh] 

Marion Is. - like many other isolated islands, is a sandpit without safety rails for academic playmates safeguarding one-dimensional theses. The ecological impact, however, falls on the collective & remains largely unacknowledged. No apology has been forthcoming - the cat faux pas an unmitigated disaster. Meanwhile, the mice remained largely forgotten, but in 2003/4 the first photographic evidence of mouse-predation, on albatross chicks, highlighted something more insidious at work on Marion. 

Marion Island (29 000 ha), a 'managed' sub-Antarctic ecosystem', is not only afflicted by barefoot-stereotypes, but continues to labour under various threats including invasive weeds. The parallels with Gough Island (6500 ha) are apparent. In 2006, Angel & Cooper published their review on the impacts of feral mice on Gough Island & in 2011 published a similarly-themed review for Marion Is. Appended to their review are two important nuggets / caveats:

1. The first postscript recommended 'do nothing'. Wait; leave Marion be until mouse-eradication attempts were successful, elsewhere. 'Big Problems on Marion Is.', they said ... The island's geography is mountainous. They feared that at a height of 1242m, Mascarin Peak [Marion's highest point] might be a jump too far for the AS350s - the helicopter-model popular, then & now, for aerial baiting. In May 2005, the same model aircraft flew to & landed on the peak of Mt. Everest [8850m]...
2. They also recommended that an invitation be extended to an international expert to research & compile a feasibility study [incl. risks, constraints & costs] for the eradication of Marion's mice. As expected, funding for this 'research' would be sought from the private sector rather than from the government who were, however, handed the report at the time. 

The South African government put the team's recommendations on ice, however, pending the release of a similar study being conducted by the British government for Gough. Birdlife South Africa's seabird manager, an experienced fieldsman & Angel's husband, 'fully supported' .. the mouse eradication initiative. In April 2015, Birdlife South Africa commissioned Kurahaupo Consulting to conduct the Marion Is. study.  

Kurahaupo's John Parkes, based in Christchurch, New Zealand, published his 'Eradication of House Mice(,) Mus musculus(,) from Marion Island: a review of feasibility, constraints and risks' in 2016. Read more here. 

The publication is the intellectual property of Birdlife South Africa which, I assume, paid for the study or at least its donors did. Apparently the publication was peer reviewed by two independent scientists and edited by Birdlife's Seabird Division. That's nice. What isn't too impressive is the fact that none of them could do a basic currency conversion & that's annoying. Either that or nobody actually read the report. It's an oversight, obviously, but when a project is dependent on external funding - from the 'real' world, that is, do the maths...  

A$930/ha is not R87 000/ha. At R87 000/ha x 29 000ha [Marion Island] - the aerial baiting component would cost R2 523 000 000 [It's actually A$930ha x 9.13 (cross) = R8490/ha]

The primary prey of mice, on Marion Is., is the larva of a flightless moth. The larvae take more than 2 years to mature & are detritivorous ie: they fragment, ingest and excrete leaf litter. 1500 tonnes [estimates] are processed by these larvae annually; a process that facilitates nutrient release and improves microbial decay. Since 1970, whilst everybody was darning socks or making shapes in the clouds, 90% of Marion's invertebrate biomass disappeared. It's estimated that mice eat 65g of these larvae / ha daily, predation which indirectly & perhaps more critically, has a detrimental effect on nutrient cycling & therefore, on Marion's ecosystem as a whole. 

Some evidence shows that mice are switching to weevils, which explains why mice are attacking birds - they've eaten the moths & who likes weevils?

When the 2011 review called for an 'international rodent eradication expert', to save time they should have said: - 'get somebody who has done this before' ie: get somebody from New Zealand. New Zealand are the clear leaders in fixing their own alien-invader problems. In fact, they developed, via state-owned Orillion, their own 'second generation' or 'superwarfarin' anticoagulant called Pestoff 20R / (or) 20M. Pestoff is Brodifacoum wrapped in a blue-dyed, palatable cereal. 

Brodifacoum is, we're told, 'highly lethal to mammals and birds, and extremely lethal to fish. It is a highly cumulative poison, ...... and extremely slow elimination'. 

'Highly lethal' & 'extremely lethal'... ie: derivatives of 'dead as a doornail'. 

In toxicology the median lethal dose [LD₅₀] is the dose required to kill half the (sample) population after a specified time. A lower LD₅₀ = increased toxicity.

Brodifacoum LD₅₀ values are as follows:  

• rats               0.27 mg/kg b.w.
• mice             0.40 mg/kg b.w.
• cats               0.25 mg/kg — 25 mg/kg
• dogs             0.25 — 3.6 mg/kg b.w.
• birds             LD₅₀ values for birds varies from about 1 mg/kg b.w. — 20 mg/kg b.w.

Brodifacoum is, therefore, classified as 'extremely toxic' for mammals & 'very toxic' for birds. 

"Brodifacoum is the most potent of the second generation anticoagulant toxins" [per the product specification]. In fact, Brodifacoum is absorbed in most soils, is insoluble in water & is active for >5 months out in the field. The rate at which Brodifacoum degrades in soil is related to the organic content of the soil... [see larvae (above)]. 

Brodifacoum is so toxic it's considered an environmental pollutant. 

Mice have been notoriously difficult to eradicate from islands, elsewhere. The Kurahaupo report includes evidence that concludes: (paraphrased) - a more toxic version of Pestoff might be more effective on mice ie: 25% more toxic that is. Is that so? The standard Brodifacoum content is 20 ppm or 20 mg per kg of food (0.002%). 

The 'more effective for mice' version is obviously also 'more effective for birds'. To mitigate these risks, Kurahaupo recommends a trial run. Fair enough... No point being Gung-ho, is there? 

Birds are exposed to Brodifacoum in two ways - by ingesting the pellets (primary poisoning) or from scavenging / ingesting mice or birds already poisoned (secondary poisoning). In the correct doses both activities "deplete the supply of vitamin K1 necessary for the production of blood clotting... " ie: dead as a doornail. 

During the Macquarie Island eradication exercise, on which 305 tonnes of Pestoff 20R were dropped, birds killed by Brodifacoum included Southern Giant Petrel, Northern Giant Petrel, sub-Antarctic Skua and Kelp Gull. All of these species are represented on Marion. Add the Lesser Sheathbill & that's a fair crack at 'non-target species'. 

In prelim. trials, caged Lesser Sheathbill on Marion refused non-toxic Pestoff 20R baits but 'avidly ate dead mice', apparently. Giant Petrels, elsewhere & on similar trials, have been known to refuse both the *bait [*non-toxic] & *mice [dead / *non-toxic].

To mitigate non-target poisoning, Kurahaupo recommends:

1. Timing the drop in such a way that birds at risk are off the island at the time. For some of the species at risk; that's in winter. Notwithstanding that trump - Brodifacoum is active in the field for >5 months. Birds return...
2. Other species, including the Lesser Sheathbill, could / should be captured & fed tinned food & dead mice until such time the threat of poisoning has passed; & then released. Fair enough. Of 6 sheathbills caught some years ago and held in captivity for 4 days, [fed tinned pet food & mice] - 'most lost body mass & one was overly stressed and released'; and 
3. Marion Is. could be repopulated from nearby Prince Edward or birds would return naturally.. Oki Doki, Doc. 

Kurahaupo introduces us to their 'Three Obligate Rules' - white-coat-speak for the 'Three Obvious Rules'. These are the three commandments for island success. 

1. "Can all mice be placed at risk?" - ie: are we sure we can drop enough super-toxin, close-enough to every mouse, to make this a clean kill?  
2. "Can the target population be killed quickly enough?" - ie: not applicable for schemes pursuing on aerial-baiting strategy & covering the island in a single one-hit session. All dead = no breeding.
3. "Can reinvasions be prevented?" - Not if those pesky scientists have anything to do with it. I must admit I enjoyed the following titbit from Parkes' report. Here it is - "...what would the environmental inspectors do if a mouse or rat jumped out [ie: newly arrived cargo] and disappeared down the grating?"     What indeed...

The report reviews territory size, highlights suspected hidey-holes & scrutinises breeding activity. The weather also plays a part on Marion as most might have suspected for a sub-Antarctic archipelago. To comply with Obligate Rules 1 & 2, w.r.t Marion's size, it's volcanic terrain & ice-covered peak; a clean kill requires the coordinated distribution of an effective super-toxin over the entirety of the island. As we've seen, the super-toxin's in the bag & we know the island's a fixture; - ultimately the outcome is influenced by the distribution in the field. 

Accurate & even spreading, at the desired application rate, can be completed in one of two ways:

1. 6 boatloads of hand-sowers [volunteers with bags] walking grids - destroying fragile flora & slipping on ice; or 
2. 4 or more helicopters with high-load capacity, a fertiliser hopper & a GPS to cover the predetermined terrain with the precision expected of a trained pilot. 

Prudence favours the air.  Notwithstanding, helicopters are bockety in wind, rain and snow. Marion's extremes include all three; particularly in early winter. 

Per Obligate Rule no. 1 - juvenile mice, semi-dependent on mom & dad, might not be 'placed at risk' whilst confined to the communal nest. That won't do. To circumvent this annoyance, the efficacy of the bait-drop is determined by the breeding season. Ideally 'place at risk' would be post the breeding season ie: in winter. Winter's weather is mercurial in temperament, however - too choppy for the heli squad. Late summer [March] has a more reliable window but then there are the birds... This & much of everything else needs revisiting. 

The errors notwithstanding, the Kurahaupo report makes for compelling reading in bits & bobs. Was it necessary? No - & this is my challenge to Birdlife South Africa.

The idea that an international [ie: non-South African] expert carries more weight than one or more of many equally talented, locally-located men & women, is symptomatic of a top-down strategy that is universally irrelevant; relies on flawed risk-allocation; is both inward-facing & self-indulgent; and irrefutable evidence of a puritanical head-set that can only be described as totalitarian. Why go there? Where is the creativity?

It's impossible to argue against the overwhelming benefits of eradicating mice for the protection of seabirds, Marion Island included. Clearly a super-toxic WMD [weapon of mass destruction] is the one-hit wonder that has been successful on islands elsewhere. Any one of many second-generation anticoagulants are effective, even on mice. Those products are readily sourced locally. Distributing defined swaths of bait is simple technology and a common skill set; easily replicated locally. Cape Town boasts the world's most dynamic industrial-use charter company (w.r.t AS350s). Brodifacoum, an environmental pollutant, kills slowly; is active in the field for months / insoluble in water & because of those properties & others, is ingested in quantities greater than required for a lethal dose. The realities of secondary poisoning cannot be dismissed; mitigation notwithstanding.

Why we insist on an unrelated party to regurgitate / rehash a rendition of the stock-standard strategy, is irritating to say the least. What really irks me is the lack of innovation. It would be a sad day if we succumbed to the temptation of replicable / valueless work. That is undeniably the path of least resistance - & insults the local donor dollar - unless, of course, the Marion project resides in Cambridge - & the 'international' stipulation is a funding pre-requisite. That would make sense, perhaps, but then say so. Even so, we can make the argument, well-enough, here; in South Africa. It's in the name: Bird - Life - South - Africa. That's not too much to ask, surely? 

A final word on Marion. It's clear mice are substituting their primary prey (equally in need of help btw.) with other food, including the island's charismatic fauna. In truth, the mice are the unintended consequence of an inattention to detail. Restoring Marion, if our interpretation of pre-landing glory is correct & not imagined is, therefore, a value judgement - do we need to be there?