The Pink Pimpernel

Who is the Pink Pimpernel? 

Is the Pink Pimpernel an anti-hero?

We may never have satisfactory answers to these pertinent questions but let's set some of the fundamental issues straight.

Unpacking the Kamfers Dam debacle requires a gambol back in time [flamingo chicks don't gamble, sir - people do, for fame & fortune, & with other people's money, usually] and although the devil resides, stoically, in the detail, most, if not all of what follows here, is freely available everywhere. What we don't know was who / when / why it was decided that a Superman-shaped island would be fabulous for flamingos. 

Why Superman? Why not Deadpool? 

Those circumstances are not clear. 

Was the decision made after a round of golf, over cheap cigars & scribbled on the back of a small, paper napkin? Did the Pink Pimpernel play fair (ly)? Who else played-ball? Was the island an experiment; a means to an end? The flamingos had never bred there before, of course. Evolution & local experience provided the birds with the necessary expertise to understand the risks associated with the sedentary act of breeding. Nest-turrets, natural or artificial, have a fairly fixed address. Threats, even then, were numerous and none more obvious [to most] than the ease of access for biped & quadruped predators; predators favourably disposed to pickled bird-2-go.  

Perhaps what the birds needed was to be watched but otherwise left well alone? 

Wiki tells us that flamingos gather in flocks of thousands to 'avoid predators, maximise food intake and use scarcely suitable nesting sites more efficiently'. Who can argue with that? 

Here is what we know - Kimberley Municipality became the Sol Plaatje Municipality & the De Beers Group sold their mining interests to a JV consortium - eventually Ekapa Mining. 

We also know that the island was built on the better / wetter side of Kamfers Dam. By extrapolation, from events as they unfolded on the ground, the scrawl on the aforementioned napkin did NOT include a contingency plan for increased water-flow into the dam. 


The napkin did NOT include a contingency plan for increased water-flow.. 


Superman-island was 'washed away' following good rains and the influx of an unexpected flush of grey-water from the derelict effluent plant. So great was the 'washing away' that the railway line [nearby] was damaged and subsequently moved at great expense - millions, actually & for taxpayers' account. Who else? To prevent another catastrophe, a pipeline was installed from there to a farm nearer the Vaal River. The pipeline, it is alleged, was constructed to manage / maintain constant water-levels at the dam.

After the island was destroyed & in a pique, the flamingos stopped breeding. Flat-out refused! That wouldn't do. The threads of the project had started to unravel. The island would have to be rebuilt but how? The island's financier wasn't prepared to play 'there's a hole in this bucket' & demanded of the authorities two things:

1. A constant water level at the dam; and 
2. a state-of-the-art effluent [poop] plant.

The authorities obliged even if the state-of-the-art effluent [poop] plant was never operated / maintained correctly but they get points for trying. The newly-constructed pipeline addressed the 'constant water level' proviso. The menace of any additional 'washing away' dissipated. The aforementioned napkin did not, at a guess, include a contingency plan for LOW water levels.

Kamfers Dam is on privately-owned land. Here's where it gets a little testy. The farmer [& his missus] were apparently 'asked' to agree to a Biodiversity Management Programme [BMP]. He [& she] didn't like the 'had to' bit nor the Ts & Cs in the memo. They refused the programme. 


The napkin did not include a contingency plan for LOW water levels..

In the interim, whilst the Pink Pimpernel & his / her friends prevaricated, the flamingos took matters into their own hands [feet?]. Turrets were constructed from nearby natural materials and the birds got on with the business of breeding; an event nobody foresaw from their side of the "management plan". Flamingos, it is alleged, return to their natal sites to breed but ... who knows for sure? These are slippery customers. 

Could the early, successful '*breeding events' [*ugh] have programmed the birds to return to what is, perhaps, unholy ground - an ecological trap? 

Unfortunately, the dam wasn't immune to the vagaries of the weather; and nesting-turrets, exposed by receding water levels [i.e. drought], were evidently abandoned. By agreement, Ekapa Mining was entitled to & pay for 10 Megalitres [ML or million litres] of grey water from the state-of-the-art effluent [poop] plant. The Golf Club has access to 3ML. The flamingos, however, weren't party to this codicil and, holding station at the end-of-the-line, were caught, exposed on dry land. Adult birds, fearing reprisals, huddled in deeper water, an exercise of pre-programmed caution against the 4-footed beasts & / or the cooking-pot. In 2018 the chicks too young to gambol, died in droves. In 2019 a repeat performance - only this time help was afoot. 

We know that superman-island [before the 'washing away'] was built on the better / wetter side of the dam. The better / wetter side of the dam gave / gives breeding flamingos safe-passage & time-enough to see their chicks off to crèche - healthy, sturdy youngsters capable of gambolling in deeper water, away from the biped & quadruped threat. Rebuilding the island is, one would imagine, fairly important to the chicks caught on the periphery... 

Why then has the island not been rebuilt? Who is the Pink Pimpernel? 

The answer to the first question lies somewhere between common sense & free-enterprise. The island-financier's stipulations have not been met - i.e. the farmer [& missus] has [have] not agreed to the Biodiversity Management Programme. Therefore, the island has not been rebuilt. Fairly straightforward. 

... but nobody likes a spoilsport. 

Pushed for more we're told that the island was originally built on a "Promise"; and perhaps, less importantly, on a wing [whim?] & a prayer. The farmer [& missus] (legal owners of the land on which Kamfers Dam resides) had allegedly "Promised" to agree to the Biodiversity Management Programme. On the strength of this alleged "Promise" the island-financier built the s-shaped island. 

The farmer [& missus] are, however, of the view that there had NEVER been any such "Promise" & had he [& she] known that the island would only have been built subject to their signing the Biodiversity Management Programme, he [& she] would NEVER have agreed to the project [on their land] in the first place. Fair enough, we think. 

Who carried the news of this alleged "Promise" to the island's financier? Was it the Pink Pimpernel? Who is the Pink Pimpernel? Was this alleged false message an act of subterfuge; the detestable act of a non-hero? 

Is this the final instalment in #thePinkPimpernelmustfall ?

... and so, will the real Pink Pimpernel please stand up! You have, sir [madam?] an awful lot to answer for and answering, sir [madam?], to the public - is an obligatory stipulation on your short list of responsibilities. Be a man [woman?] & let's hear you say MEA CULPA. Then fix it! 

As an aside & having given this issue some thought, we find it reprehensible that the many birds abandoned to their fates, in a hostile, contrived environment & caught in a cycle of half-truths, are dismissed as collateral damage for those that aren't. That mocks, at its core, the tenets inherent, by definition, in any self-respecting Biodiversity Management Programme. Then again, Kamfers Dam has seemingly never enjoyed the protection of a Biodiversity Management Programme, or even the alleged "Promise" of one.  

  

The Pink Parade & Human Frailties

Is 'Conservation' trailing an elongating shadow as the sun sinks on common sense?

If we consider this year's 'partially-failed' Lesser Flamingo breeding attempt & the subsequent rescue of abandoned chicks, en mass, it isn't enough to leave well-alone.

In 2006 a large, S-shaped island was built by Ekapa Mining on Kimberley's Kamfers Dam. The island provided scalable habitat on which Lesser Flamingo could breed; and breed they have. Given their limited access to suitable sites elsewhere, the success of this artfully-contrived, anthropogenic shove-in-the-back, has been lauded, both here & abroad. Since then the island's integrity isn't what it was intended to be but the flamingos found a way. Those involved at the project's incubation have been well-pleased.

Subsequently, however, low water-levels have tested this year's pink parade & large areas of Kamfers Dam have become a chapped, brittle shadow of its champagne-filled past. Like the human protagonists in this unfortunate saga - the flamingos rocked-on with abandon. Reliant on favourable water conditions to feed their young, unfavourable conditions have precipitated the abandonment of many newly-hatched chicks in, what is becoming, a more than sobering hang-over. Some chicks have perished - others have not & are doing well - many have been rescued. To their credit, Ekapa stepped into the vacuum when the who-dunnits buried their heads in the ever-widening crack. At the 11th-hour the mine part-financed a national rescue of the abandoned chicks. Their initiative and the co-ordinated efforts of hundreds more, from around the country & from all walks of life, are a commendable legacy. 


Those involved at the project's incubation have been well-pleased.


In addition to the area's limited rainfall, Kamfers gets its water from Kimberley's storm-water run-off and from par-treated effluent. Like most everywhere else, however, ageing infrastructure and official ineptitude has equated to leaking pipes - broken pumps & poop in the fields etc. As a result, the contracted flow of grey water hasn't met forecast, far from it & the magic conjured in 2006 proved to be fickle trickery in 2019.

Written into the original farce is a municipal clause guaranteeing Ekapa Mining first bite of the effluent apple - most of the apple really, but mining is, what it is - a profit-driven enterprise. That said, & to Ekapa's credit once more, the mining operation has reduced water consumption & remains viable - their intentions not important here. Unfortunately, the effluent apple has been significantly smaller than originally anticipated for a plethora of smelly reasons - a laissez faire attitude at the municipality, cited widely [wildly] in the press, the target of many fingers but no more lazy to be fair than the other bird-brains blinded by 'thank goodness for me'.

As darkness descended on the dying birds - their reality is reduced to the intimate circle of light cast by social media. Fortunately, Africa has many gifts. 

Interventions are now, more than ever before, core to conserving viable wildlife populations - & particularly in this case - one of only four recognised breeding sites in Africa. It isn't enough to live the early success & publicly trivialise the unintended, negative consequences of an initiative that was, arguably, less than well-balanced, in the first place, given the variables at play. Where water-scarcity and services in this country are exigent issues; what exactly was the plan when the music slowed or stopped? We could let 'nature take its course, of course'... but that would be cruel. When the stakes are this high, partial investment in long-term security highlights the risk inherent in the project. Some introspection and a renewed respect for the mitigation of risk, à la the Precautionary Principle, is warranted. 

Until then, we need to see the humanity in each of us and appreciate that we are all cogs in a well-developed intelligence network; like-minded people largely working for the common good; at least we should be.

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?