Category: Threatened species

  • Wilderness and the New Zealand mind

    “Wilderness was the basic ingredient of American culture. From the raw materials of the physical wilderness, Americans built a civilization. With the idea of wilderness they sought to give their civilization identity and meaning.” – Roderick Nash, Wilderness and the American Mind

    Since the advent of the wilderness preservation movement in nineteenth-century America, protecting wild places has meant more than simply protecting pristine ecosystems. Despite the priceless value our world’s rapidly diminishing untouched landscapes hold for biodiversity conservation, wilderness preservation has first and foremost been a cultural mission.

    Doubtful Sound, Fiordland National Park – Rod Waddington, licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

    Roderick Nash described wilderness not as a type of ecosystem but as a “state of mind.” Investigating this mindset reveals much about our reasons for protecting nature and what nature means to our society. The people of New Zealand decided very early on that its natural landscapes were worth protecting, especially its most wild and remote places. Wilderness areas are now considered a “defining characteristic” of New Zealand, with many citizens feeling a sense of “pride” and “identity” with these wild areas.

    Wild nature, as opposed to pastoral or modified landscapes, provides many people a source of connection to the natural world that transcends typical nature amenity values. People who visit wilderness areas report experiences of the sublime, of incredible beauty, of solitude and personal growth, of the unrivalled rewards of physical challenge and overcoming risk, and of a connection with nature that is no less than spiritual. But while wild places are by definition areas with as little human modification as possible, their preservation and meaning in society are entirely human.

    University of Lincoln researcher Kerry Wray wrote their doctoral thesis on the meaning behind New Zealander’s relationship with wilderness. Kerry identified how differences in wilderness valuation say much about the country’s human-nature relationship and its internal conflicts. Wray’s thesis covers how reasons for conserving nature can come from our desire for a life of meaning and connection and how this desire can direct the course of an entire nation.

    Nations, as well as individuals, look to their landscapes for identity. Where we come from often says much about who we are. New Zealand became one of the first countries in the world to establish national parks, starting in 1892. The government enacted legislation that officially recognised national parks as “areas of New Zealand that contain scenery of such distinctive quality, ecological systems or natural features so beautiful, unique, or scientifically important that their preservation is in the national interest.” They saw them as so valuable and essential to the essence of the country’s identity that they should also be preserved in “perpetuity.”

    Statue of Sir Edmund Hillary in Mount Cook/Aoraki National Park – Geof Wilson, licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

    As the country set out to preserve its landscapes it did so in a way that reflected the collective personality of the nation’s citizens. The colonial inhabitants of this land saw themselves as pioneers and explorers. As the country transitioned from colony to statehood, it looked for ways to distinguish itself. It looked towards its unpeopled valleys, deep fjords, and soaring peaks.

    Vast swathes of wild New Zealand were and remain unlike any environment in Europe and the people that explored them saw themselves as likewise distinct. The country aimed to preserve areas for backcountry tramping and hunting, celebrating their cultural love of adventure, self-sufficiency, and exploration. And so, with a provision in the 1952 National Parks Act for remote places, the country became one of the earliest adopters of the wilderness preservation movement in the world, setting aside immense areas with policies more strict than any other country.

    There are now 6 designated wilderness areas in the country, with many more remote areas that are effectively managed as wilderness. Wilderness in New Zealand is now, mainly under the 1985 Wilderness Policy, legally considered a place undisturbed by humanity, free from infrastructure including the most basic of modifications, such as huts, bridges, signs, and even tracks.

    Wilderness preservation polices have now spread around the world, with leading international conservation organizations emphasising their immense ecological and cultural value, such as the European Commission’s issue of wilderness management guidelines, definitions, and calls for further preservation. The International Union for Conservation of Nature has created a global classification and management guidelines system for wilderness areas. There are also non-profits with storied conservation legacies, such as the Wild Foundation and Wilderness International. It was largely due to the inspired efforts of the Federated Mountain Clubs‘ love of remote back-country experiences that New Zealand wilderness now ranks among the most wild and protected in the world.

    The wilderness area of Fiordland National Park, now a World Heritage Area, is the largest and most representative of the country’s wild nature. It was here in 1773 that Captain Cook moored when plotting New Zealand on the world map. It was here in Fiordland that advancements in species conservation were made as early as the nineteenth century with the protection of entire off-shore islands and the conservation efforts of some of the world’s rarest birds, such as the kākāpō and takahē.

    In Fiordland, the ethos of wilderness preservation has led to the protection of the largest expanse of native forest in the country. For trampers, it is the most remote one can get on the mainland. However, it is also home to three of the nation’s Great Walks and a national park attracting nearly 1 million visitors a year.

    The Darran Mountains, Fiordland National Park – Dan Nelson, licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

    “Fiordland National Park represents a legacy of every New Zealander, for every park visitor; a cherished corner of the world where mountains and valleys compete with each other for room, where scale is almost beyond comprehension, rainfall is measured in metres, and scenery encompasses the broadest width of emotions. It is a place of solitude, of retreat, of quiet rejuvenation… Welcome to Fiordland, land of the last retreat” – Department of Lands & Survey 1986

    The increasing demand for access to wilderness areas and their peripheries is not only putting pressure on these fragile ecosystems but on users’ values as well. For one person, the Fiordland wilderness means the Milford Highway and they may bemoan the lack of tracks that enter into deeper sections of the park. While for others, wilderness is not reached until hiking several days away from the Park into untracked valleys and may picket propositions to improve trails and build huts. How the Crown decides to manage these conflicting user expectations can direct the course of nature conservation in New Zealand as a whole, a country with more ecotourists and backcountry users every year.

    Which values will be prioritised? What interpretation of wilderness will be used in future? And, is the idea of wilderness always appropriate? Can it be harmful?

    Sign in Kauri National Park – Eli Duke, licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

    With over a third of the country set aside for conservation and with one of the most extensive and strictly defined wilderness preservation systems in the world, New Zealand is a model case study in the phenomenon of wilderness preservation. But it is a phenomenon that is only beginning to come to terms with its colonial heritage.

    That word, wilderness, as well as its connotation, do not translate well out its Germanic language roots. Many people and cultures around the world have differing conceptions and values of wild places. And the Europeans who pioneered the idea paid little attention to human-nature relationships already present in these allegedly pristine or “Edenic” places.

    Indigenous peoples were the first to suffer from modern conservation strategies. Not only were they displaced from their lands but their heritage and legacy were ignored or erased. For example, nearly all wilderness areas in the United States were inhabited by native peoples before being designated. The European-American cultural idea of civilization vs wild nature imposed itself atop hundreds of years of indigenous peoples’ heritage with these ‘wild’ places. Wilderness preservation has led to the degradation of global indigenous heritage and even overt oppression.

    Countries around the world are now reassessing their relationship with nature conservation, including New Zealand. The future of Fiordland National Park, with its 800-900 year history of Māori inhabitation, has complex and competing human-nature relationships to be considered. Certain conservation lands throughout the country are now being reclaimed by iwi. Concessions are being made to allow customary use of natural resources across Crown Land. Wilderness areas are now being criticised for concealing indigenous heritage and restricting rights.

    The wilderness landscape of New Zealand played a large role in the creation of a national identity and a conservation agenda post-independence. Now again the idea of wilderness will play a role in how the country decides to manage its conservation lands and for whom.

    Nature conservation in New Zealand means more than saving the endangered birds. It has to do with culture, the quest for identity and beauty, and now, also, justice. There are many definitions of wilderness but all of them speak of a place somehow both lacking in humanity and a place to be sought, a wasteland and a wellspring of emotion, somewhere unmarked by human hands yet telling of our passions.

    The road into Aoraki Mount Cook National Park – /\ltus, licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

    Kerry’s work is a landmark piece in the academic discussion of New Zealand wilderness management. The many intangible values of wilderness and its environmental justice issues make it a complex idea to study or even casually talk about. Yet, Kerry’s endeavor describes why wilderness values are so important and demonstrates that it is possible to study them and produce substantive ideas for addressing its many complex problems.

    William Cronon’s famous critique of wilderness preservation called wilderness a “monument to the nation’s past.” The mounting challenges to conservation lands press our eyes forward. How we decide to value our world’s diminishing wilderness speaks to how we will value nature all together and what the future landscape of this country will look like.

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Henry Luedtke as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

  • PredatorFreeNZ 2050: fantasy into reality

    High in the treetops of a lush forest, a group of native birds gathered together, their vibrant feathers glinting in the dappled sunlight. Excited chirps and melodic trills filled the air as they engaged in a lively conversation. Their voices carried the hopes and dreams of a restored ecosystem.

    Koru, a charismatic Tūī with iridescent feathers, fluttered his wings and cleared his throat. “Have you all heard the latest? The Humans are determined to make New Zealand predator-free by 2050!”

    The cheeky Kākāriki, a lively parakeet, interjected. “Can we truly reclaim our forests from the claws and jaws of those invaders?” A wise and observant Morepork owl, Ruru blinked his large, round eyes. “Is that so? Quite a lofty goal, but can they really do it?”

    Photo credit: CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 Simeon W Flickr
    Red-crowned Kakariki, Photo credit: CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 Simeon W, Flickr

    With its unique biodiversity, New Zealand is home to a huge array of species found nowhere else on Earth. However, many of these treasures face an existential threat from invasive predatory mammals, such as rats, stoats, and possums, introduced by human settlers centuries ago. These voracious predators ravage the native bird populations. Many species are now extinct, and more are now on the brink of extinction.

    Predator-Free New Zealand 2050 (PFNZ2050) was initiated in 2016 with an audacious aim of eradicating the most destructive trio of predators: possums, stoats, and rats; from New Zealand. This call for action echoed through the mountains and valleys, inspiring conservationists to make New Zealand, once again, a land of breathtaking beauty and thriving unique biodiversity. The ambitious aim of Predator Free 2050 is not without precedent. To date, New Zealand has successfully eradicated invasive mammals from 105 (admittedly much smaller) islands.

    In 2020, a journal article was published that assesses the feasibility and steps needed to achieve Predator Free 2050. it was written by James Ross, from the Centre for Wildlife Management and Conservation (CWMC) at Lincoln University, Grant Ryan from The Cacophony Project, Merel Jansen from the Department of Applied Biology, HAS University of Applied Sciences, Hertogenbosch, The Netherlands, and Tim Sjoberg, from the Taranaki Mounga Project. Together, these researchers have decades of experience controlling and monitoring pest mammals in New Zealand.

    The first step, removing predators with aerial 1080 poisoning and ground-based resetting traps, will help remove the majority of predators. A modified aerial 1080 approach, developed by Zero Invasive Predators (ZIP), can result in localised eradication. This was first tried in a 400-ha area at Mt. Taranaki in 2016, then at a 2,300-ha site in South Westland, using ground-based resetting traps. Regular servicing of resetting traps also gives better ground-based control results.

    Once pests have been eradicated from an area, the next big challenge is to defend the area from invasion. ZIP demonstrated how to defend predators from re-invasion in two sites using a “virtual barrier” of traps. A 2 km wide barrier of traps protected a 400-ha peninsula at Bottle Rock in the Marlborough Sounds. Using this virtual barrier of traps, ZIP prevented predators from re-invading at two sites, in the short term.

    Australian brushtail possums, initially introduced into New Zealand for the fur trade, and now one of the major pest mammals in New Zealand.
    Photo credit: CC BY-SA 2.0, Gnu Chris, Flickr

    Detecting the survivors is the next crucial phase for eradication, as any survivors can build a new population. The CWMC and Cacophony Project found that thermal cameras are 3.6 times more sensitive than trial cameras in detecting possums. Whilst trail cameras appear to improve detection rates, they do not always trigger when a small, fast-moving animal moves in front of them. These cameras also use infrared illumination at night, which may deter some animals.

    Thermal cameras are a new advanced technology that shows high sensitivity in detecting both small and large pest mammals. Because the motion detection is done using software, the sensitivity can easily be adjusted. Unlike trail cameras, thermal cameras do not require infrared illumination to operate at night.

    Videos collected by the thermal cameras are classified using AI technology (machine learning) trained on a library with more than 50,000 tagged videos. The AI can identify the animal species and only keep recordings for the target pests, which can be stored on-board the device or sent out using the cellular network.

    To achieve the PFNZ 2050 goal, detecting the last few individual pest mammals is complex and expensive. As a technical improvement in detection, ZIP has made an AI network of over 500 cameras across the Predator-free South Westland project area. The AI cameras use LoRa (low-powered radio technology) to send the information to solar-powered mini-satellites. The information is transferred to a web server that checks the information the next day. The AI cameras only need to be serviced twice a year to change the batteries. The AI cameras have reduced the time to detect one predator from around six weeks to just one day and have reduced the cost significantly.

    PFNZ2050 will require more innovative strategies, control tools, and wider public support to be successful in its ambitious challenge. Future control work will increasingly take place in and around urban areas. As such, the next most important advancement needs to be construct control tools that community groups can use. There should be a bottom-up-driven approach to community engagement in conservation so that as new technologies become available, the number and size of invasive mammal-free publicly and privately managed reserves can increase. In a recent study, people showed high support for species-specific toxins, but there is a shortage of funding for registration of these toxins.

    NZ has a 60-year history of eradicating pest mammals, from tiny 1-ha Maria Island to more than 11,000 ha Campbell Island, with suitable techniques and public support. This is an example of how the impossible becomes possible when passion, science, and community unite.

    With a final chorus of their harmonious calls, the native birds took flight, their wings carrying their hopes and aspirations to the corners of the land. From forests to cities, their songs echoed, touching the hearts of all who listened.


    This article was prepared by postgraduate student Mohamed Safeer as part of the ECOL 608 Research Methods in Ecology course for his Master of Pest Management degree.

  • Island life, saviour of the wrybill

    I’ve never been so pleased to see the braids of a river than when I finally escaped the jaws of the Waimakariri Gorge in my kayak, as part of the Coast to Coast race. A braided river brings not just relief from roaring bluff corners, and the threat of capsizing my kayak, but a peaceful place that unusual birds decide to call home.

    Rakaia River, NZ (Geoff Leeming, 2006, CC BY-NC 2.0, via flickr)

    One such creature is the Wrybill or Ngutu parore. It’s the only bird in the world with a laterally curved beak (bending to the side)! Sadly, this little bird faces many threats. In 2008 some optimism was found in the research of Duncan, Hughey, Cochrane and Bind (River Modelling to better manage mammalian predator access to islands in braided rivers). The paper explained how particular characteristics of braided rivers could be used to support successful breeding of braided river birds, including our wee friend, the Wrybill.

    Braided rivers are made up of multiple threads of flowing water, with islands found between the threads. The researchers knew that these islands provided a safe place for endangered breeding birds, with the water flowing around them providing a partial barrier to a major threat –

    Wrybill
    (57Andrew, 2007, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0, via flickr)

    introduced mammalian predators, such as hedgehogs, rats, mice, stoats, weasels, ferrets and cats.

    It was already known that water extraction, narrowing and stop-banking of rivers impacted the flow of water in the braids, but little was known about the optimal flow of water or the required characteristics of the islands to support breeding birds. Models were used to determine the number and area of islands needed for successful breeding. The researchers found that certain levels of water flow preserve islands large enough for nesting (larger than 2 hectares) and protect the area from mammalian predators or weed invasion. This information was used to recommend abstraction rates on braided rivers during peak breeding season. They did conclude that using photos in the research would increase understanding of how islands change in different flows.

    One of the authors, Ken Hughey, was from Lincoln University and his PhD, back in 1985, looked at factors impacting the breeding of braided river birds in Canterbury. He studied five different birds: Wrybill, Banded dotterel, Black-fronted tern, Pied stilt, and the South Island pied oystercatcher. Among other things, Ken found that higher levels of predation on birds occur where there were lower flows of water and lower numbers of channels or threads in the river. He recommended that minimum flow levels should be higher during the breeding season to protect the nesting birds. The 2008 study builds on this understanding and provides information not just about the flow of water needed, but also the size of the islands required to protect the nesting birds.

    This study has been used in subsequent research in New Zealand around maintaining river flows in braided rivers. This is unsurprising given braided rivers are rare around the world and Canterbury is known as New Zealand’s braided river hotspot. The themes within the research were around maintaining river flow levels, predator and weed control, maintaining river islands, and water abstraction. Advances since this work seems to be focussed on weed control and the impacts of hydropower to braided river systems.

    It appears that the messages about the importance of minimum flows and island size in braided rivers for breeding birds are getting through. The Regional Council in Canterbury (ECAN) refers to the importance of flows in preserving the ecology of the river for breeding river birds in the Canterbury Water Management Strategy and the Canterbury Land and Water Regional plan. The knowledge that came from the research by Duncan, Hughey, Cochrane and Bind, and subsequent research, has clearly shown how local communities think about braided rivers and informed how they care for them. This is demonstrated by the Ashley Rakahuri River Care Group in 2022, when they made a submission to the ECAN to raise concerns about gravel extraction on the Ashley Rakahuri River and how this will impact the islands needed by birds to breed safely.

    This approach also appears to complement work by the Predator Free 2050 campaign regarding pest control within braided river environments. I was intrigued as to how the authors felt the research was received and asked one of them, Ken Hughey, about the impact. He said it ultimately led to high flows being recommended and resourcing for predator control on the islands. Sounds like a great result!

    New Zealand Map (mhx, 2010, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0, via Flickr)

    Undertaking research consumes your life while you are doing it. It is fascinating to see the journey from conception to the completed work and then how it informs environmental work moving forward.

    The Wrybill is still classed as vulnerable and there is work to be done, but this research has added valuable insight into flow regimes for braided rivers. It has highlighted the importance not just preserving islands for breeding birds, but ensuring they are above a certain size. It has prompted further research, and informed councils and charitable groups on how to best support endangered braided river birds, like our wee friend the Wrybill. I’m sure there shall be some grateful kayakers out there too! I shall sign off this blog with an image of the Wrybill making the most of his unique laterally curved beak.

    This article was prepared by Master of Environmental Policy and Management student Katherine Manning as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Wrybill/Ngutuparore (Shellie, 2016, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0, via Flickr)

    Here is a full citation for the article:

    Duncan, M.J., Hughey, K.F.D., Cochrane, C.H., Bind, J. (2008) River modelling to better manage mammalian predator access to islands in braided rivers. Exeter, UK: British Hydrological Society 10th National Hydrology Symposium: Sustainable Hydrology for the 21st Century, 15-17 Sep 2008. 487-492

  • Neighbourhood disputes, models, and a harmonious coexistence with elephants

    In my home country, Germany, we have cut down every bit of primeval forest. We hunted aurochs, brown bears, wolves, lynx and even beavers to extinction between the 17th and 19th centuries. After messing it all up like that, we now dare to tell other countries, that still hold on to their forests and wildlife, what to do with their nature.

    “Don’t hunt those animals you used to hunt sustainably for centuries; we think they are so charismatic”. Currently, wolves are slowly coming back to Germany, and immediately people (successfully) changed laws to permit their shooting if they prey on sheep because it is “not bearable” to live in close coexistence with wild animals like that. Apparently, wolves don’t belong to Germany anymore because…yeah, because what? Because humans live here?

    Now close your eyes and imagine you are a subsistence farmer. Oops, don’t close them, rather, continue reading! You can still imagine, though! Every day you’re working hard taking care of all the veggies and crops you planted to feed your family. One day you look up, and what you see is a massive giant, almost as tall as your house. That giant has destroyed everything you ever planted.

    African elephant (Loxodonta africana) drinking. Picture © Severin Racky (used with permission).

    Happily munching on the last corn cob, the elephant greets you with an intimidating “HEI!”. Sounds absurd? Well, this scenario is much more realistic than our Western culture’s perception of African savannas as a vast untouched wilderness with Simba and all his large mammal friends living their best lives, without humans in the picture and without “HEI”, Human-Elephant-Interactions.

    This perception of wild Africa has influenced our approach to mitigating HEI. A common attempt is to build physical barriers, such as fences, to separate humans and elephants, believing they could protect both parties. However, elephants are unbelievably strong and intelligent creatures, and they easily overcome these obstacles, leaving farmers caught in a perpetual battle to safeguard their livelihoods.

    I have personally witnessed elephants knocking over trees onto “elephant-proof” electric fences to get to the other side. No fence can hold back a herd of determined elephants. Fences, therefore, cannot be the only solution when both humans and elephants need to get their food from the same land. It doesn’t stop with crop and infrastructure damage, though; Humans and elephants die through HEI. Elephants are killing around 500 humans per year and humans return the favour.

    After bothering you with way too much bad news, at least I can tell you that science offers a glimmer of hope! Picture a team of brilliant minds huddled around computer screens, armed with data and determination. With powerful tools with mystical names like Agent-based modelling (ABM) and Geographic Information Systems (GIS), ecologists are unravelling the complexities of HEI to help us understand human-elephant interactions better. With these tools, the researchers can simulate scenarios and explore the factors determining conflict incidents, to develop effective measures to reduce the conflicts and to mitigate poaching. The models are needed because, due to plenty of ethical problems, these kinds of experiments could not be conducted in real life.

    In their study from 2021, Abel Mamboleo, Crile Doscher, and Adrian Paterson, from Lincoln University, simulated 18 scenarios, considering things like human population, elephant population, rivers, conservation corridors, and protected areas. They evaluated their impact on different HEI incidents, such as crop damage, human deaths, elephant deaths, and hidden impacts. The term “hidden impacts” refers to indirect consequences of HEI and includes fear restricting movements, missing school, or resulting health issues. For example, their “elephant-effects scenario (ES)” evaluated the effects of varying elephant populations on HEI, the “human-effects scenario (HES)” evaluated the effects of varying human populations on HEI, and the “environment-effects scenario” evaluated the effect of varying environmental parameters (distances to rivers, protected areas and corridors) on HEI.

    Using their models, the scientists identified hidden impacts of HEI (e.g. fear and resulting health issues or restricted movements depending on elephants) as the most challenging incidents to mitigate. Interestingly, maintaining a greater distance from rivers seemed to effectively reduce those hidden impacts. Now who would have thought that?

    Their model also indicated that most incidents of elephant crop damage occur within 1 km from rivers. Therefore, according to the model, it is possible to lower the risk of your crops being eaten and trampled by a grey giant by planting them further away from rivers (Yeah, good news!). Among the incidents studied, human deaths were found to be the easiest to reduce (more good news!). Fifteen out of the 18 scenarios lead to significantly fewer human deaths.

    African elephants drinking and playing at a waterhole. Picture © Severin Racky (used with permission).

    Distancing human activities from rivers, and creating conservation corridors and protected areas, seem to be an effective mitigation strategy. However, challenges remain. Reducing the deaths of elephants seems to be one of the most difficult tasks, with only six out of the 18 scenarios showing significantly fewer dead elephants. The number of elephant deaths was reduced in some scenarios, such as a so-called “ENS-River-Protect-Corridor”, in which the scientists modelled farms to be 7000 m away from rivers, protected areas and wildlife corridors.


    While no single scenario that the scientists played through was able to completely eliminate all incidents, their modelling provided valuable insights and recommendations for potential strategies to reduce HEI. With their models, the researchers showed that HEI is influenced by many different factors beyond the pure numbers of humans and elephants. Geographical and environmental features, such as rivers, protected areas, and corridors, and socioeconomic activities, also play crucial roles. With the approach of creating safe distances between human activities and critical areas, the researchers found practical strategies to minimize the deaths of both humans and elephants.

    The study’s findings, therefore, highlight the need to address the spatial relationship between humans and elephants and promote responsible settlement planning. Successful strategies for mitigating HEI require a holistic approach that balances the needs of both humans and elephants and prioritizes a healthy elephant population as well as the well-being of affected human communities.

    It is important to emphasize that models are just a tool, implementing solutions still needs to be done by our big, juicy human brains. For example, in all scenarios, the model suggested to just lower the population size of humans and/or elephants to mitigate HEI. Fewer humans, fewer elephants: fewer human-elephant interactions. Of course, both options are far away from an ethical or recommendable solution. If the elephant density is extremely high, relocating them to other areas could be a (very complicated and expensive) option.

    Wait a minute! Hey, German politicians, how come you haven’t thought about reducing the population size of humans in areas where the wolves are coming back? I heard many of us would love to live in New Zealand anyway. What about providing a free one-way ticket to New Zealand for every revengeful German sheep farmer who wants to kill wolves as a compensation measure?

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Ronja Hardener as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Mamboleo, A. A., Doscher, C., & Paterson, A. (2021). A computational modelling approach to human-elephant interactions in the Bunda District, Tanzania. Ecological Modelling443, 109449. (https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ecolmodel.2021.109449)


  • Kea pine for a new home?

    Kea, our smart alpine parrots, are sometimes a little too clever for their own good. They are a species struggling to maintain large and healthy populations. Part of their problem is that they are very curious and seem to be fascinated by what humans do, and more importantly, often live in human-influenced habitat. This is not such a good trait when it leads them to interact with hazards like lead or toxins, nor is it useful if they find human ‘junk’ food.

    This curiosity is also not helpful when we want to study kea. Many of the approaches that work with other bird species just fail for kea. Instead of going about their business they come and see what you are doing, and that’s not great for understanding key aspects of their life histories.

    Spot the kea at the top of the tree! Image by Adrian Paterson.

    I has some first-hand experience with researching kea about twenty five years ago, when I was a newly minted Lincoln University lecturer. I was helping Kerry-Jayne Wilson to supervise a masters student, Mark Jarratt. Mark was interested in how much lead, and other nasty waste, the kea were finding in the local Arthur’s Pass area, and consuming, in their habitat. For example, lead was present in paints, shotgun pellets and rubbish in the tips and kea were often observed eating it.

    Mark had to catch kea to take blood samples to check for lead contamination. Catching kea can be fairly challenging. They are not easily fooled and they can learn by observing others. Adding to the difficulty was that we had to keep the birds in captivity for an hour or so as part of the procedure. And this was a problem.

    We initially used a cage. We would capture a kea, put it in a holding cage, and then go and try and capture the next one. However, each kea would often figure out how to escape the cage. We would return to find a cage open and our patient free (and not likely to be so easily caught again). So then we took the cage with a kea into a small hut nearby, thinking that if the bird got out of the cage then they would at least be in the hut. Unfortunately, some of the kea managed to figure out how to open the windows in the hut. Moral: don’t work with animals smarter than you are!

    So, when PhD student Jodanne Aitken came to James Ross and me and wanted to do a project on kea, I was a little hesitant. However, Jodanne is nothing if not persistent, passionate and persuasive, and a project on kea was begun.

    Early morning in the plantation. The native forest in the distance was often commuted to and from by kea. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    Jodanne was interested in how kea move about and utilise the landscape. Much of her PhD work is in the Southern Alps around Arthur’s Pass, where she is using transmitters to figure out just how mobile kea can be. Is that kea you see gnawing your car wiper blades from the local valley or could it be from several mountain ranges away? More on that in future EcoLincNZ articles!

    Jodanne’s initial work was in looking at how kea might be using plantations of introduced pine and Douglas fir in the Nelson region. Forestry has become a dominant part of many regional landscapes, often hilly and where native forests once grew (and kea once flew). This is especially the case in the Nelson region. The question that Jodanne wanted to answer was whether these forestry plantations, typically monocultures with a lot of human activity, provide a net gain or loss for kea.

    Jodanne filming kea foraging behaviour. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    Are plantations the equivalent of barren wastes for kea, where there is little food and high densities of mammalian predators (not to mention hazards that humans introduce into an area)? Alternatively, do plantations offer new food resources and places to roost and nest? Of course there could be a range of outcomes from positive to negative.

    Jodanne was able to work in forestry blocks run by Nelson Forestry Limited. Local workers were key to providing Jodanne with almost real-time information on kea presence within blocks that were being actively harvested. One advantage of working in plantations were the forestry roads that gave rapid, if a little hair-raising, access to most of these areas.

    Jodanne was able to capture three kea and mount GPS trackers in fancy backpacks to collect movement data. She also observed kea during the morning and late afternoon-early evening periods for several months, mostly to record their feeding. Jodanne used direct and video observations to observe their foraging. Kea poo was also collected when available to get some physical information about diet.

    The kea with transmitters spread their time between the plantation areas and neighbouring native forest. The majority of time was spent in the pines where they foraged, roosted and nested. Kea were observed eating pine seed, as well as tissue stripped off newly harvested Douglas fir logs. The faecal samples, well the bits that could be identified, contained lots of invertebrates.

    Kea have discovered that they can strip the bark of newly harvested logs, scrape off the cambion tissue, chew this and get something nice out of it. (Maybe a bit like eating sweets?) This may be one of the attractions of being in plantations. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    In short, as summarised in a NZ Journal of Zoology paper, kea seemed to be using the pine plantations in similar ways to more natural areas. Good news! However, one of three kea that carried a GPS recorder was killed by a cat. So, there may be some significant risks for kea spending a lot of their time in these areas. ‘Swings and roundabouts’ as they say.

    Despite this being a relatively small scale study, it does indicate that we could learn a lot more about kea in these highly modified landscapes. Jodanne has taken this training and shifted her sights to a much larger scale project on kea movement in the Southern Alps and southern Westland.

    Kea are one of the smartest bird species on the planet but they still need our help to let them survive the arrival of the smartest mammal species and the changes that we have made. Understanding this clever species is fundamental to helping them. This tricky challenge has been accepted by Jodanne and her research colleagues.

    Article by Adrian Paterson, an Associate Professor in the Department of Pest-management and Conservation at Lincoln University.

  • Kiwi calling: when listening is not enough

    I don’t know about your’s, but my mum gets worried when I don’t respond to her phone calls for a few hours. Once, I can’t remember what I was doing, but I didn’t hear the phone ringing. When I finally checked my phone I saw about 17483 missed calls, oops. I can only wonder what went through her mind when I wasn’t responding: she was probably picturing me skydiving, in an ambulance, or lost in the woods during a hike.

    But what if she’d had a more statistical mindset and thought about why I hadn’t responded? Or even better: what if she’d thought about reasons why she could not detect me?

    Ecologists and conservationists consider something similar when analysing data obtained from searching an area for a certain animal species. An animal could be present at a certain site, but still go undetected. First, they have to consider what ecological reasons might have determined where the species was present or absent (for instance, where is there suitable habitat within the considered area). Second, they have to take into account what factors might have influenced the likelihood of actually observing the species (such as the distance from the observer, or the fact that the surveyor may not be skilled enough to recognise the species). These are defined, respectively, as occupancy (which is the same as saying “presence”) and detection probabilities, and can be estimated by using statistical models.

    Occupancy probability and detection probability are described by two different models and both of them will influence what will be observed during a survey. Taking into account that not all the animals will be observed is very important when attempting to accurately assess a species’ presence, which could otherwise be underestimated.

    A young roroa being released as part of the Operation Nest Egg programme. Image by Jon Sullivan on Flickr.

    Peter Jahn, James Ross, Darryl MacKenzie and Laura Molles, in a study published in 2022, wanted to know how accurate acoustic surveys of roroa-great spotted kiwi (Apteryx maxima) were between 2011-2015. During this time, 18 birds were translocated from the Hawdon Valley, in Arthur’s Pass National Park, to the Nina Valley, in Lake Sumner Forest Park, representing one of the initial efforts of the Operation Nest Egg programme. The researchers also wanted to compare kiwi presence before and after 2015, and between the two areas.

    They gathered data from a survey conducted in 2012-2013 by DOC in both the valleys and then repeated the methodology in 2017-2018. The technique they used was passive acoustic monitoring (PAM). PAM is effective when studying elusive species such as kiwi. Automatic recorders were deployed in the two study areas and left there for up to three weeks, activating just before sunset and switching off shortly after sunrise.

    The team analysed the kiwi calls recorded in each of the valleys. The goal was to find a model that would best describe the obtained data, and use it as a base to estimate occupancy and detection probability. Peter Jahn and colleagues wanted to know which factors were important in detecting the kiwi and looked at the study area (Nina and Hawdon Valleys), year, length of the survey night, breeding/non-breeding season, precipitation, wind speed, night length, varying recorder battery capacity.

    Similarly, my mum could have considered the fact that my phone may have been in silent mode, or had no service, or estimated the actual likelihood of me being in an ambulance. All of these factors could have influenced her imperfect detection of me.

    In both the study areas, the detection probability was found to be higher during the breeding season, to increase with longer survey nights and to be influenced by wind speed, rain accumulation and recorder sensitivity. Also, as expected, kiwi presence in the Nina Valley increased after the translocation, as it did in the Hawdon Valley. Moreover, it was found that the number of sites where kiwi calls were recorded increased in 2017-2018 in both the areas and that, in total, many more calls were detected in the Hawdon Valley than in the Nina Valley.

    The Hawdon Valley in Arthur’s Pass National Park. Image CC-BY-NC by Jon Sullivan on Flickr.

    Wait, the number of sites where calls were recorded and the presence of kiwi increased in the Hawdon Valley after kiwi were removed from there? How is that possible? Yeah, that was one surprising finding of the study. In fact, the researchers were expecting that occupancy would decrease after the birds’ removal, but what they found actually suggests that new pairs re-occupied the territories left inhabited by the translocated individuals.

    This is a promising result, because it means that such conservation strategy doesn’t necessarily negatively influence the population from which the individuals are taken. Also, the ongoing pest mammal control in the Hawdon Valley could have balanced the negative effect of the translocation. I guess the only thing left to do now is find out what makes kiwi desire those territories so much that they can’t stay away: maybe they have the most delicious earthworms of New Zealand?

    To conclude, these findings demonstrate that the species is reacting well to this reintroduction programme, considered that kiwi presence increased in the Nina Valley too. Furthermore, this study showed that combining occupancy estimates through statistical models with acoustic monitoring is very useful when studying the outcomes of kiwi’s translocations. However, if you, reader, can’t wait to know more about what happens to our dear kiwi when we move them around, sit back and read Peter Jahn’s PhD thesis: never stop learning.

    Finally, going back to my mum trying to “detect” me: I suggest the probability would increase a lot if she learned to call outside of my usual napping times!

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Francisco Bini as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Jahn, P., Ross, J. G., MacKenzie, D. I., & Molles, L. E. (2022). Acoustic monitoring and occupancy analysis: Cost-effective tools in reintroduction programmes for roroa-great spotted kiwi. New Zealand Journal of Ecology46(1), 3466.

  • The hotspots are where it’s at if you want to spot a cat: the search for the common leopard

    The Himalayas are an almost mythical place, where mountains loom and the clouds surf down their sides before sliding into the forests below. The songs of rhesus monkeys, palm civets, and the occasional jackal sing out from the thick trees. This landscape is beautiful yet rugged. Travelling through is difficult for our human capabilities, in many cases impossible.

    Now imagine. This is the backdrop you must navigate to discover the number of big cats that live there. To top it all off, your target is the shyest and one of the rarest of them all, the inappropriately named common leopard.

    A common leopard relaxing in the sun
    (Source: Daily Pakistan: Pakistan’s common leopard endangered due to loss of habitat)

    Now, it’s not unusual that scientists doing field research are thrown into difficult situations. You might end up with dangers like Carlos Jared who innocently picked up a frog while doing fieldwork in Brazil, discovering frogs can be venomous. Or you might accidentally glue yourself to a crocodile while attaching a radio transmitter like Agata Staniewicz did (find that and more hilarious field research fails here).

    But when you’ve got a shy animal, add in an impassable landscape, plus the addition of the very real and dangerous threat of bumping into rebels which is, unfortunately, the reality in parts of Pakistan, you’ve really got your work cut out for you.

    This momentous task is one Muhammad Asad, PhD student at Lincoln University, took on as he bravely set off to northern Pakistan. Nobody had done this before and the leopard landscape was mostly unknown. But he was up for the challenge.

    The not-so-common leopard

    Leopards are found all over the world, the most widespread of all land-based carnivores. They’re incredibly adaptable, able to make their homes in all sorts of climates: from the savannas of Africa, the tropical forests of South East Asia, to the freezing mountains of far north Russia. They even make it work when humans move in.

    Their only request, being rather introverted, is that they have lots of space. They’re very territorial, protecting their home range fiercely. But honestly, a bit of peace is a reasonable request!

    Despite this incredible flexibility, common leopard populations are in decline. They’re no longer found in 63-75% of their historic range. The decline in Asia is even bigger, with an 83-87% drop! It’s no surprise that these gorgeous cats are listed as critically endangered.

    The majestic common leopard
    (Source: Daily Pakistan)

    Leopards are facing many different threats. The main ones are:

    • habitat is lost or changed,
    • trees cut down,
    • inbreeding from being cut off from one another,
    • human developments being built near their protected ranges,
    • prey disappearing,
    • poaching,
    • and human-wildlife conflict.

    Clearly, these cats need protection. So, leaving New Zealand and heading back to his native Pakistan, Muhammad took the first step to build a conservation plan; he had to figure out how many leopards there were and where they were found.

    To do this across the entire country would be too big a job. Instead, he focussed on the Gallies and Murree Forest Division in northern Pakistan, lying in the outer Himalayas. Here, leopards are protected under the law. Even so, there are often no checks for this, with hunters easily getting away with it. This is made worse by the slow and sometimes non-existent compensation programmes, programmes designed to reimburse farmers who have lost livestock to a leopard attack. The locals often resent the leopards. But it’s hard to blame them when people, including children, are occasionally attacked and killed.

    Leopards are poached frequently in Pakistan. Cubs are trapped to sell in the illegal pet trade or body parts and skin are taken for sale. Skin, claws, and teeth are sold in north Pakistan.
    (Source: Raj K Raj/Getty Images)

    Estimating the number of leopards in an area is very tricky. They have large territories with very few cats within each area. Figuring out where to look, especially when the landscape has the worst access, is the key to success.

    How to find leopards

    Muhammad and his crew began with a questionnaire survey. They asked people from local communities who lived nearby to fill these out. They asked about losses of livestock, when the attack happened, and the type of injury, for example, bite marks on the neck, missing dogs, or human casualties.

    Based on the information from the locals, they ended up with 63 different sites where they could focus the leopard hunting efforts. A much better start!

    Next, they moved into these sites, peeling their eyes for signs of poop, territorial markings (such as peeing on a tree), and tree scratches. These signs meant one thing; here be leopards.

    With this proof, they set up special cameras, known as camera traps, on either side of the trail, ready to capture the cats on the silver screen.

    They also set up cameras on 5 connecting trails which hadn’t shown any signs of leopard action. These were used to see if they could capture leopards in areas where they had left no signs. As new leopard trails were discovered, the camera traps were moved to snap those too.

    Sampling locations of the camera-traps survey in Gallies Forest (Ayubuia National Park, surrounding Reserved Forest and Guzara Forest), and Murree Forest (Protected, Reserved and Municipal Forest). Country map (top left – green). Study area showing different city boundaries (middle left).
    (Source: From paper)

    A leopard can’t change its spots – a handy identification tool

    You may have heard the proverb that a leopard can’t change its spots. This is supposed to teach us that we all stay true to our nature, even if we pretend we’re different. But it turns out when it comes to leopards it’s 100% true! The coat of a leopard is as unique as our fingerprints. Incredibly useful when you’re a scientist trying to tell the difference between two cats in a grainy photo!

    Their gorgeous spots are a bit like the shape of a rose, giving them the name ‘rosettes’. This means that by matching up the images of the rosettes you can figure out if it’s the same cat. The best place to match things up is on either side of their back legs or the top of their tail.

    Example of an individual being identified using the rosettes on the tail
    (Source: From paper)

    This is trickier than it sounds. The rosettes change shape as the leopard moves. And it can look different depending on the angle it is to the camera. But still, it’s a pretty helpful method to avoid double-counting cats. Double counting would give you a very different population size! You can find out more information on leopard identification techniques here.

    Example of when the spots don’t match up.
    (Source: From paper)

    So, how many are there?

    In 2017 Muhammad estimated there were between 16-24 common leopards in the Gallies and Murree Forest Division. This went down to 7-12 in 2018.

    However, they don’t think the population dropped. In 2018 they got fewer clear images making it harder for them to identify the cats. They think the real number could be closer to 12-18, meaning its range overlaps with the 2017 estimate.

    But, this might not be the case. In 2018, Pakistan was suffering from a drought. Perhaps the leopards had been forced to move out of their territories to look for food. So far there hasn’t been any research on leopard movements in relation to strange weather. This would be an interesting thing for someone to look into (are there any leopard enthusiasts up for the task?).

    Or perhaps this drop is real. Poaching and unreported killings are still huge in Pakistan. Plus, Muhammed and his team did find signs of hunting. So the reason could in fact be nefarious.

    Regardless of the reason, Muhammad estimated there to be 8-12 leopards and 3.5-6.5 leopards per 100 km2 in the Gallies and Murree Forest Division. They also confirmed they lived in the Swat, Dir, and Margalla Hills, even though locals as well as wildlife departments thought they had disappeared.

    These estimates are not 100% accurate. But the team is pretty confident that they are close to the true number. All in all, a great success.

    Mother common leopard and her cub.
    (Source: Daily Pakistan)

    What next?

    Now there’s a basic understanding of how many leopards there are and where they like to hang out, we can start to protect them.

    With this information, we can:

    • Use the leopard hotspots to keep an eye on the population trends and demographic changes over time.
    • Decide on the most important conservation areas. Special attention should be given to the corridors that join areas together to protect the long-term health of the leopard populations.

    For example, Muhammad discovered that 70% of leopards killed for revenge in the Guzara Forest happened outside of the Reserve area, close to the village, and in winter. That tells us we should focus the conservation efforts on the hotspots in the Guzara Forest surrounding the Reserved Forest so that human-leopard conflicts can be reduced.

    There’s still a lot of work ahead for the common leopard in Pakistan. But with Muhammad on the case, their future is looking a little brighter.

    You can read Muhammad’s research in full here: The Un-Common Leopard: presence, distribution and abundance in Gallies and Murree Forest Division, Northern Pakistan

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Kat Douglas as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Full citation: Asad M, Waseem M, Ross JG, Paterson AM (2019). The Un-Common Leopard: presence, distribution and abundance in Gallies and Murree Forest Division, Northern Pakistan. Nature Conservation 37. 53-80. https://doi.org/10.3897/natureconservation.37.32748

  • The big, bold, redbacks of Buckland

    No, Mr Baggins has gone away. Went this morning, and my Sam went with him: anyway, all his stuff went. Yes, sold out and gone, I teller. Why? Why’s none of my business, or yours. Where to? That ain’t no secret. He’s moved to Bucklebury or some such place, way done yonder. Yes it is – a tidy way. I’ve never been so far myself; they’re queer folks in Buckland. No, I can’t give no message. Good night to you!” JRR Tolkien – The Fellowship of the Ring

    One of the greatest illustrations of Tolkien’s work, IMHO, The Gaffer and the Black Rider by Stephen Hickman.

    I’ve always liked this passage where old Gaffer Gamgee is talking, unbeknown, to a nazghul. It is an important story point but delivered in the type of conversation that you could hear all over the world. ‘Those people that live 20 – 30 km away are just so different and weird!‘ Are the people of Buckland really so different to the good, honest folk of the Shire? If so, how did this happen by simply crossing a river?

    There is a question around invasive species whether the individuals that arrive in a new area are just a random selection of the individuals (and their traits) that live in their home area or whether they represent a group of individuals with consistent and particular traits that make them more likely to have successfully invaded the new area.

    For example, all humans in Aotearoa/New Zealand have arrived from outside these shores over the last 1000 years. Were the people that made their way here more bold and explorative than the rest who stayed behind? Or were they no different than their neighbours who stayed at home? Maybe they just simply had the opportunity to go?

    These ideas are important in thinking about why invasive species are successful at establishing or not. If any old random subset of the population can turn up then they are less often going to successful at establishing (they may not be fit-for-purpose!) compared to if they arrive with skills that allow them to survive better in a new environment (or even to survive the journey).

    Being large might help give invasive individuals an advantage over native species. Likewise, producing more offspring, growing faster, being bold, exploring more, dispersing sooner, having a broader diet, could all help with invading and establishing.

    What about our Bucklanders?

    Long ago Gorhendad Oldbuck, head of the Oldbuck family, one of the oldest in the Marish or indeed in the Shire [has had high evolutionary fitness over many generations], had crossed the river [successfully able to disperse relative to other hobbits and to explore more], which was the original boundary of the land eastwards. He built (and excavated) Brandy Hall, changed his name to Brandybuck, and settled down to become master of what was virtually a small independent country. His family grew and grew [high fecundity in offspring production], and after his days, continued to grow, until Brandy Hall occupied the whole of the low hill, and had three large front-doors, many side-doors, and about a hundred windows. The Brandybucks and their numerous dependants then began to burrow, and later to build, all round about … The people in the Marish were friendly with the Bucklanders … But most of the folk of the old Shire regarded the Bucklanders as peculiar, half foreigners as it were [suggests a slightly different distribution of traits compared to the parent population].Though, as a matter of fact, they were not very different from the other hobbits of the Four Farthings. Except in one point: they were fond of boats, and some of them could swim [bold and innovative behaviours].” JRR Tolkien- The Fellowship of the Ring

    Captive redback with web. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    We are also told elsewhere that the Brandybucks and Tooks (another bold lineage of hobbits) are generally taller than average Shire hobbits. Tolkien, as I have said in many other places (taxonomy of orcs and hobbits, evolutionary biology ideas, burrow architecture, mammal pest management, fire and ecosystems), was rather accurate when it came to integrating biology into his writing. Did he get it right here?

    To test this invasion idea you need a species that is well-studied in it’s native range as well as in its colonising range. You also need to be able to measure all of those traits. Spiders fit the bill nicely. They’re small and have short generations, are easy to fit into small experimental set ups, and some are venomous and, therefore, well studied. Enter the redback spider (Latrodectus hasselti), invasive in Japan and New Zealand and well studied in its Australian homeland.

    Cor Vink, New Zealand’s leading arachnologist, joined a group based in Toronto, Canada headed by Monica Mowery, to look at individuals from these three areas. They measured the size of individuals (bigger is usually better in interactions with competitors), their egg sac production (producing more young may give you more opportunities for at least some surviving), and length of generation times in captive populations (shorter allows for faster replacement, longer allows for larger more long-lived individuals).

    A redback – amazing photo from the talented Bryce McQuillan

    They measured the behaviour of the redbacks, such as frequency of cannibalism (you never know when a snack might come in handy!). Also, individual spiders were placed in a new environment and the speeds at which they started spinning webs (exploration) or moving after being exposed to a puff of wind (boldness) were measured. Spiders were also placed into a warm arena with a small simulated breeze to see whether they would balloon (effectively float away in the wind) or rappel (climb using their web silk) away from the start point (dispersal).

    The outcomes from this work were published in Biological Invasions. Redbacks from the invasive populations showed more dispersal behaviour than the home populations. They also tended to be larger in size, more cannibalistic, and produced more offspring. Interestingly, the redbacks in Japan and New Zealand did not seem to be more bold or explorative than in Aussie. Overall though, the invasive populations looked and acted differently to the source population.

    It appears that populations that successfully disperse and establish in new areas might do so because they are settled by individuals with useful traits that differ a little from the source population. This may help us to figure out which species potentially pose the most invasive threats.

    What about those strange Bucklanders? The Gaffer was mostly right. They are a bit different. Bucklanders are a population that managed to successfully disperse to an isolated area. Bucklanders are larger and more fecund. Tolkien does not record whether the Bucklanders tended to be more cannibalistic than hobbits in the Shire, but that would be a prediction!

    We can certainly sympathise with the Gaffer’s concerns about his Sam going to live among them.