The Crowpocalypse

So this last week was the end of my training. The entire week I got to work with the Hawaiian crows, learning about their special husbandry concerns and basically getting to know the fifty some birds we have living at the facility.

And believe me, they each have a very unique personality. Lanakila, for instance, is one odd bird - he's more imprinted on humans than most of the other birds, which means that he associates with humans as well crows (which presents some unique issues for his use in captive breeding). He's simultaneously very shy and very curious (as they all seem to be) and to cope with these conflicting feelings, he follows you around the aviary while holding his head upside down. Of course this makes him more conspicuous, rather than less, but I doubt that he knows this. He's also very interested in water, particularly when it is being sprayed out of a hose. From what I've heard, if you don't lock him out of his hack-box (a smaller room within the larger aviary that is used in catching the birds for medical procedures, etc.) while filling up his water dish, he will run around the bowl getting sprayed with water until he slips and falls. Of course this is embarrassing and makes him angry, so he will then try to attack the hose. It's easier on everyone if you just avoid that whole situation.

Of course most of the birds are much healthier emotionally. They receive a well balanced diet and daily enrichment. Inevitably, some of the enrichment days are more exciting than others (tennis ball day was a good one; the crows went crazy when I put the balls into the aviary. Nalu, one of the breeding males, managed to grab the ball with both feet, roll onto his back, and proceeded to peck at it furiously...it was very endearing). So for the most part, the birds are happy and healthy.

And very, very smart.

Which is terrifying.

Now I've seen "The Birds" before, and never really gave it much credence. The seabirds I've known aren't particularly bright, certainly not enough to worry me. But stepping into an aviary with five fully-grown but fearless crow chicks is an intimidating prospect. They come screaming towards you and perch just a few feet away from your face. You can practically see them contemplating how much meat you've got on you (thankfully not enough to warrant any further action).

This behavior alone shouldn't be enough to worry me...I spent every day of the last four months working with one of the world's largest owls (one whose only goal seemed to be my utter destruction) and that turned out fine. Hell we even had something resembling a functional relationship by the end of that time. But the day I walked into a crow aviary and saw one using tools I knew humanity was in trouble. This particular bird was just using a stick to remove some melon from her water dish, but the number of potentially nefarious applications for this technology keep me awake well past my bed time (8:00 pm...it's tough to stay up past then when you have to wake up at 5:30). I've managed to avoid any crow-themed nightmares, but just like the monkeys I'm sure that it's just a matter of time. I mean these birds have figured out how to see through the one-way mirrored glass that we have in their aviaries. There are humans who can't figure that out. That might just be the most terrifying part of this...these birds are smarter than a lot of the people I've met (dated) in my life. They've got their shit together.

So what's the solution to all this? Well I can't speak for the rest of you, but I'm going to prepare for the inevitable crowpocalypse. For know that means vocal training, learning to mimic the sounds they make. I've got a few of them down so far, but there's a lot of work to be done. Thankfully, I think I'm up to it. The tenacity that helped me win a thirty minute long laughing contest with a rock hyrax at the Minnesota Zoo (not a joke. it happened. I came out the victorious champion)

Loser (above); Winner (below

In all honesty, these are some of the coolest birds I've had the privilege to work with. I'm sure I'll have plenty of stories over the next few months.

I'll maybe update you on something serious next week. I just don't have it in me today.

The Lonesome Tale of Red-5

Things at KBCC continue to go well, I'm now 2/3 done with my training. This next week I will be focusing on the 'Alala and then I'll be set loose for the last 9-ish weeks that I'm out here. But I'm sure that my exploits in the world of wax-worm maintenance and avian socialization are not particularly interesting to any of you. Or at least not yet. So today I have a little story for you - the epic of Red-5.

So epic may be a bit of an exaggeration (and by "a bit" I mean "a significant"...) but it's all I've got, so you all will just have to deal with it.

As I think I mentioned in the last post (but am too lazy to check) the Hawaiian Bird Conservation Project/San Diego Zoo maintains two facilities in the islands which are dedicated to the captive breeding of endemic birds - one here on the big island and one on Maui. The Maui facility is still actively breeding the only Hawaiian bird most of you have heard of, the nene (or Hawaiian goose) but efforts towards that goal have long since ended here at Keauhou. Despite this, we still have one grumpy old codger of a goose living here with us. He goes by the very descriptive name "Red-5." Now as some of you might know I am particularly fond of names which include both words and numbers, but this one doesn't have some great story behind it. The bird has one red band on his right leg and I believe that the number 5 is his record in the nene studbook (when I die, I would like someone to come up with a biographical photo-album of me also called the "Stud Book"). Nevertheless, he is a funny old bird. One would expect a flocking bird like the nene to want company, but on the (frequent) occasions that wild birds (mostly introduced game species like pheasants, chukkars, etc.) pay him a visit, he gets very stressed out. So we get to chase them out of his pen at least once a day. Once in a while, some wild nene will come hang out in his pen (read - eat his food and poop on his shelter). The thrill of scaring the crap out of endangered geese almost makes up for the damage done to my lungs by vog as I catch my breath afterwards.

There's not much else that I think is newsworthy, I get to practice administering fluids to a cardinal today, I hear about graduate school at Edinburgh within the week (which means I will need to start thinking seriously about that). Apparently my ukulele gets shipped out here soon (thanks Sarah!) so I will be spending a lot of time drinking beer on the porch, writing songs to all the pretty Hawaiian girls I haven't met yet...or really seen. Sure there are a few exceptions (hey Dairy Queen) but it's not really that much different than being at Cornell (a lot of Asian girls of indeterminate age...not really my thing). Apparently another intern will be showing up here in a week or so. Not sure how much that will shake things up, but I imagine I should prepare to have my shower drain clogged again.

Here's the weather:

Alright, off to go do some laundry. I know this was pretty insubstantial; for that I apologize. When something exciting happens I'll let you know.

Next week I take a look at the world of Hawaiian grass...don't worry, it's really sweet grass.

Not What You'd Imagine

By popular demand (Papa maybe mentioned it one time) I've decided to try to keep another blog going for everyone (once again, probably just Papa) who wants to know what I'm up to out here. I'm sure very little of this blog will be interesting to anyone, but, quite frankly, I don't much care. It's a great forum for me to write about myself, and, being incredibly vain, that is one of my favorite pastimes (second only to actually talking about myself).

So here goes, hopefully this one ends a little bit better than the last.

For those of you who don't know (I apologize for being so bad at keeping you all up to date), I am currently living in Hawaii and doing a research internship with the Keauhou Bird Conservation Center - a facility owned by the San Diego Zoo and dedicated to the captive propagation of endemic Hawaiian bird species. I'll get into the whole living situation a bit later, but first a bit of explanation about why this place exists.

Like so many other islands, the Hawaiian archipelago was once home to an astounding array of bird, insect and plant species - basically those organisms which had managed to make the impressive journey to this corner of the world, settle and evolve to fill the various available ecological niches. As has happened on basically every island since humans began exploring the globe, these unique and previously thriving biomes were invaded by an increasing number of invasive species. Along with humans came rats, livestock, and countless other plants and animals which were able to out-compete native species which had no way to protect themselves from the invaders. As Polynesian settlers (followed by Europeans and Americans) began to develop the islands for agriculture the native habitats were stripped away, further handicapping endemic species. The worst invader, at least from an avian perspective, was the mosquito. Probably arriving via an English ship's water casks, mosquitoes (and the diseases they transmitted between birds, like avian-pox and malaria) quickly decimated bird populations across the islands.

All this leads us to the current day, where dozens of native Hawaiian birds (and other organisms) are threatened or endangered. As part of an effort to halt, and hopefully reverse, the decline of these birds, the San Diego Zoo along with government and local agencies, founded the KBCC and the MBCC (Maui Bird Conservation Centers) to begin a captive breeding effort similar to the highly successful work done with peregrine falcons.

Alright, I'm bored of history. So the KBCC, where I am working, is focused on the breeding of four species (and I will attempt a pronunciation guide, although I hope that any linguists reading this are not highly offended by my lackluster work).

The first of these, and primary reason that the KBCC exists, is the Hawaiian Crow or 'Alala. It's pronounced pretty much like it's spelled (if you need more help, think Christmas songs - Deck the halls with boughs of holly, 'Alala la la...). These guys are a bit bigger than the crows you are used to on the mainland, but just as smart. Each bird has its own personality (and traditional Hawaiian name, which the other birds do not) and they are far and away the most popular residents at the center. We have fifty or so of the sixty-seven surviving individuals.

Next is the Palila (pah-LEE-la), a type of Hawaiian honey-creeper. If any of you are familiar with the house finch (a litte red-headed guy that is common everywhere in the states) the palila looks something like that but larger, with less barring, and a bright yellow head. Honeycreepers are descended from a common finch ancestor, but have differentiated to fill a lot of different ecological roles. The biggest issue for the palila is the decline of the native Mamane tree. These trees produce seed pods (kind of like spiky green beans) that provide about 90% of the birds' diet. Unfortunately the tree is now also endangered (but we have special permits to harvest some for the birds...it's exciting to be able to check off the "remove parts of an endangered species" box on my list of life-goals, even if it is to help another one).

The Puaiohi (poo-EYE-oh-he), also known as the small Kaua'i thrush, is one of my favorites not only because it is a charming little bird, but largely for the fact that it allowed me too sneak the word "poo" into this blog (twice as funny if you know that the bird's family name is Turdidae). It's somewhat related to the American robin and looks kind of similar, but smaller and dusky gray-brown all over. They are pretty omnivorous, feeding mostly on fruits and arthropods (bugs). Captive breeding has been somewhat successful, and over a hundred individuals have been released into their native swamp since the program began.

Last but not least is the Maui Parrotbill, unique not just because it has no Hawaiian name, but because of it's sweet-ass eponymous beak. Yes I used the terms "sweet-ass" and "eponymous" side by side and yes, I am a little bit proud of that. This is another species of honeycreeper, but they are much smaller and have more cryptic coloring (kind of an olive-yellow) than the palila. They specialize in using that beak to explore under bark and into holes to pull out insect larvae.

So that's your introduction to the birds, I'll try to get some photos taken soon but I can't really guarantee anything.

Work so far is going well (even though it starts at 6:30 in the morning). I am now one week in to my three weeks of training, so far I've worked with each of the resident species except the crow. I'm getting settled in to the intern house (see photo), which is pretty nice and situated very close to the facility.

There are currently two other interns, Alexa and Emily, although this is actually Alexa's last day so soon it will just be me and Emily. They are both nice enough, but we don't really have much in common. We'll see if the friendly relationship continues, I'm already pretty sick of cleaning up after them (scary, right? I'm the neat one) in the kitchen. I've also been reminded how gross it is sharing a shower (or more specifically a shower drain) with girls. I pulled out the biggest, nastiest, soaking-wet hairball yesterday...I can handle animal excrement without flinching (I once had the stomach contents of a dead dog empty all over me; a dog which, prior to death had been eating other dog's poop). Hell, I had to help kill a mongoose just the other day. But that hairball just about made me puke.

Aside from that things are going well. As some of you already know, I'm not really living in the tourist part of Hawaii. The facility is about 4,000 feet up on the side of the volcano on the big island, which means that there is no beach or palm trees in sight. We're on a beautiful portion of what used to be a ranch (although I was surprised to learn that Hawaii has no native grass species, so I feel a little bad calling it beautiful). It gets cold at night (down into the forties) but generally warms up during the day. I did manage to get my first sun burn yesterday (thankfully nothing compared to my first burn in Zbar). I haven't decided if it's a good thing or not, but we are pretty far away from significant human habitation. The township of Volcano is nearby, but it isn't really a bustling metropolis. We are about an hour outside of Hilo, where we have to go for groceries and whatnot. That means that we only get to go to town twice a week (in the facility vehicles) which, I would imagine, will make it difficult for me to make friends outside of work. Pile that on top of my natural inability to charm people and I'm looking at a lonely few months. I will try to make myself go out and explore the island, but (as some of you know) I do better at that when I have friends making me do it.

Everyone on the staff seems pretty nice, so I may try hanging out with them (assuming they want me to) over the course of the spring. I can say right now that a repeat of the wildcat sanctuary is unlikely. I suppose that's good news, although it would certainly have made my time here a bit more interesting.

Alright, this has gone on too long. I'll try to post again soon, but no guarantees. If you have specific questions for me just leave them as comments. That might help me avoid more long, rambling messes like this one. Hope you are all doing well. I'm going to go outside and enjoy this sunny, eighty degree day.

Aloha

haha, Turdidae