Conservation efforts often throw up difficult ethical questions and some are easier to answer than others. On a global scale the world is locked in arguments about climate change, tolerable levels of emissions, the extent of damage caused by human actions etc. On a regional scale we are facing additional crises in terms of resource and biodiversity depletion. We understand that human activity is responsible for many problems in the environment and we have many choices to make about resolution. At what point should human activity be constrained? Where should our efforts be focused and how strenuous should these efforts be? How do we make these choices and what principles should we rely upon to guide us?
In terms of species protection, with funding constraints, we have difficult choices to make. How to construct the modern day Noah’s Ark? What species and or areas should be prioritised? Should we rely on the principle of endangerment to make these choices? What is kept and what is lost? In making these choices how far should we go in terms of interfering with nature? What are our obligations? Yesterday I was confronted with a problem which drew a couple of these issues into focus.
As a volunteer monitor for the Maungatautari Ecological Island Reserve, in the Central North Island of New Zealand, I have been responsible for the past 4-5 years for monitoring a line of tracking tunnels in the Northern enclosure of the maunga. A pest proof fence of about 47km has been constructed on the mountain enclosing an area of some 3000 hectares. To read more about the project visit: http://www.maungatrust.org/
Yesterday I was on a trip up to my line on the inside of the fence, when I came across a perplexing sight. There inside the fence, were about 12 paradise ducklings (Tadorna variegata/ putangitangi, pari), flocking hard up against the fence, trying to get to their agitated parents on the other side of the fence. The noisy consternation of the adults was what first caught my attention and then I saw why! What to do? An immediate and concerning choice. Do I interfere and attempt to reunite or will nature find its own way? The latter thought worried me on two counts, first the situation was unnatural due to the presence of the fence and secondly, the previous year I had seen dead ducklings inside the fence, in a similar location.
I decided I needed advice so I carried on, completed my line, made my way home, talked to a scientist and made a call to a Trust expert. The advice was that reuniting the ducklings with the adults would offer the best chance of survival for the ducklings. So several hours later, armed with a pillow case I climbed back up the hill to see if the situation had changed. The vigorous honking and calling I heard as I approached the site suggested it had not. And there they were, same place, same scene, several hours later. Feeling like a fox out on a winter’s night, with the help of a couple of my kids, we quickly popped the ducklings in the pillow case and liberated them beyond the fence. I had some qualms about the birds having to experience a short “flight”, but having now read that some nests are in tree holes up to 25m above the ground, I feel somewhat reassured. (Heather and Robertson, The Field Guide to New Zealand Birds, Penguin: 2005). Recognition was immediate. This was not the Snort. The parents’ relief was palpable as the female duck gathered the ducklings and rapidly led them away through the farmland and into a patch of bush.
This situation creates a conundrum. The ducks obviously appreciate the sanctuary inside the fence for nesting, yet being a bird whose natural habitat is hill-country pasture, they seek to return to these areas once the clutch is hatched. But the fence which creates the desired sanctuary is a complete barrier to those who cannot fly. How will natural selection and adaptation manage this situation?
Opponents of mainland ecological islands with pest proof fences will argue that such constructions are artificial, resource intensive and pitched to fight a losing mainland battle against a tide of invasive mammalian predators which cannot be realistically stemmed. An optimist by nature, I would prefer not to view the situation thus. In the short time that the fence has been erected, I have witnessed an impressive increase in endemic avian activity on the Maunga and in surrounding areas. Increases in tui and kereru numbers have been particularly noticeable. I have seen scores of children build their knowledge of the environment around this project and general community awareness of biodiversity issues rise. What price can we place on this?
I have also sat around tables where funding for the Trust has been vigorously debated. My own view is not whether we can afford it, but whether we cannot. In relation to this particular project, it would appear that these sentiments are shared by many. In recent local government planning processes, many submissions were received supporting rating for the project, as a result of which it has now received further significant long term support from Environment Waikato and Waipa District Council. This support is in addition to the sponsorship received from other local and central government agencies and extensive private sources.
So the community has spoken and choices have been made for the moment. Then what of the fate of the paradise duck? Unlike most of its privileged cousies, the pari, along with others such as the pukeko, parera the grey duck, Kahu the Australasian harrier hawk and most introduced birds, does not receive absolute protection under the Wildlife Act 1953. Scheduled as game under the Act, it is a species destined for the pot during the game season. The incongruity of this was brought home to me earlier in the winter when running down the mountain outside of the fence after checking my line, the boom of a gun and a gidday from inside a maimai nearly shot me into interstellar space! Quite possibly I have just rescued those ducklings simply to see them fattened on sweet Waikato grass....Is this a problem? Aha.... yet another conservation quandary.
The pari is an endemic duck and now widely distributed throughout New Zealand. McDowall in Gamekeepers for the Nations (1994: Canterbury University Press) recounts that the pari was a favoured food of South Island Māori and gathered in their thousands and dried for storage and later use. The species was largely confined to the South Island, but was introduced to the North Island where it became widespread and abundant. It is common on farmland – I can see a pair out my window – and in some areas it is regarded as a pest due to the impacts upon crops. The pari, like the pukeko, is an example of a bird which has actually benefitted from human activity. The conversion of forest land to farmland and the construction of farm ponds has created habitat well suited to population by the species. (Heather and Robertson) Does this mean we should eat it?? What do you think?? Choices, choices, choices....
Further to this message, an interesting article on migratory birds/conservation appeared in yesterday's NZ Herald at:
http://www.nzherald.co.nz/opinion/news/article.cfm?c_id=466&objectid=10602796
The article suggests that we need an integrated global strategy to protect migratory birdlife. The story struck my attention because issues of migratory birds do not usually get much media attention. The article made me think about how we deal with migratory birds and what sort of protection we give them within our environmental policy/law, which I had never really considered before.