Golden Bats and Pink Pigeons

AFTERWORD

I never expected the life of a bird keeper at the headquarters of the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust in Jersey to be a glamorous one, and the predicament I found myself in adequately illustrated this point. Phrases such as ‘character building’ sprang to mind as I scrambled in an undignified manner up a very imposing and slippery tree on the island of Mauritius. As I maneuvered myself higher, branch by branch, with all the grace and coordination of an under-tens baton twirlers club performing to a particularly jazzy and unfamiliar version of ‘When the Saints Come Marching In’, it occurred to me that perhaps I wasn’t entirely equipped for life ‘in the field’.

However, this was ‘Annabelle’, the very tree that Gerald Durrell mentions in this book, and climb it I most certainly would. So here I was, some twenty years later, retracing his footsteps, albeit with rather less joie de vivre. My own particular happiness derived from the fact that I had not yet not fallen out of the tree and landed on my own recently sharpened machete! My quarry, and reason for making such a spectacle of myself, was the pink pigeon.

Leaving a cloud of angry mosquitoes to regroup and plan their next assault at the foot of the tree, I finally reached the top. Well, when I say top, I mean a strategically placed viewing platform that a couple of dedicated/deranged Durrell-inspired fieldworkers had built. The idea behind this intrepid feat of amateur carpentry was to enable pigeon observations to be carried out with all the comfort and safety offered by a small wooden platform balanced precariously at the wobbly end of a 40 ft tree. But here I was, perched atop, and the view that swept down below me was breathtaking. Ahead, the forest sloped gently away into a gully, framed on either side by mountains which seemed to strain in their attempt to pin back the swollen, grey clouds. In the distance, the azure blue of the Indian Ocean draped the horizon like a blanket. However, something was missing...

Almost on cue, I heard a familiar call. The unmistakable ‘bow coo’ of a male pink pigeon, and a very handsome specimen he was too. With disdain, he surveyed me from a nearby tree. Presumably having established in his pigeon mind that I was neither a threat (male pink pigeon) nor a bit of the other (female pink pigeon) and consequently of no interest whatsoever, he proceeded to go about his business, whatever that was. Despite his indifference, that was a very special moment for me. Inspired by Gerald Durrell and the ‘Ark’ he created, I have made Jersey my home and have been working with birds at the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust (formerly Jersey Wildlife Preservation Trust) for four years, assisting with the conservation of this and many other species threatened with imminent extinction.

Our work came just in time for the pink pigeon, whose numbers had declined to disastrously low levels. Under the careful protection and management of our team in Mauritius, the pink pigeon is now safe and doing well. The population has grown from ten birds to over 350 in the forests of this unique island. Information gathered in Jersey about its health, nutritional needs, social behaviour and breeding habits has proved invaluable in overcoming problems and safeguarding the future of the pigeons.

However, it is not just the pink pigeon that has benefited from such intervention. Astonishing success has also been achieved with the Mauritius kestrel. This exquisite bird was reduced to only four known individuals in 1974, and many thought it couldn’t be saved. Thankfully, due to a conservation effort led by the Trust’s Carl Jones and spanning over twenty-five years, the population now stands at over 800 birds. The Rodrigues fruit bat mentioned in this book is yet another example. Through careful management, the wild population now numbers around four thousand. This has been achieved through management of their forest habitat and a public education campaign to eliminate hunting.

Back in 1984, Gerald Durrell (with the help of John Hartley and others) was instrumental in forming the Mauritian Wildlife Foundation: its purpose to conserve the threatened native flora and fauna of Mauritius, Rodrigues and their surrounding islets. The species I have mentioned were brought back from the brink of extinction with recovery programmes instigated and executed in Mauritius, and backed up by the support and expertise in Jersey.

Our joint efforts have had far-reaching effects. Our work with the endangered Mauritian birds galvanised the people of Mauritius into being more aware of and concerned about their special island wildlife. So much so that the Black River Gorges area in which we were working was designated a National Park by the government. In fact, Yousouf Mungroo, the very first graduate of Durrell Wildlife’s International Training Centre in Jersey, became the first Director of the first National Parks in Mauritius. This training centre in Jersey is a highly respected facility where people from all over the world, including many among our Mauritian team, come to learn good conservation practice which they can then take back and apply in their own country.

So what of the reptiles taken from Round Island, I hear you ask? Having been comfortably installed in the ‘Ark’ for over twenty-five years with great success, the skink and gecko have now been retired back to Mauritius into semi-wild conditions (I am secretly hoping that this may happen to me one day). This leaves only the Round Island boa to update you on. We have made great inroads into understanding this enigmatic snake, but it has not completely revealed its secrets to us. There is still much to learn and the study in Jersey continues to help us to address conservation questions that would be difficult to undertake in situ.

So, I contemplated, perhaps even from this very spot Gerald Durrell’s dream of a conservation effort to encompass a whole spectrum of rare and endangered species was formed. I allowed myself a brief moment of pride, and, I admit, a little smugness. But one must not rest upon one’s laurels (especially when one is clinging to a gently swaying tree) for there is still much to be done. The Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust continues to work with the pink pigeon both in the wild and, now in a largely ambassadorial role, in Jersey. More recently, the plight of the beautiful emerald echo parakeet, the rarest parakeet in the world, has also been addressed with a successful recovery programme in Mauritius. Over thirty years of conservation expertise on the island of Mauritius means that this inquisitive and bright little bird is in very safe hands.

Exciting new projects are constantly in development, with specialists from Jersey being sent to work alongside our local Mauritian staff. In fact, a colleague of mine will be trading a cold, wet Jersey winter for the blue skies of Mauritius as he helps to establish a recovery programme for a very delicate, rare and beautiful ‘passerine’ (that’s a little songbird to the non-birdy experts among you).

Since this book was written, the restoration of Round Island has gone from strength to strength, with native plants being grown and translocated onto the island and, most recently, with the construction of a field station — much to the delight of the weather-beaten warden. Even the Aldabran giant tortoise has been seconded into a bit of manual labour for the greater good. On another island this close relative of the native Mauritian giant tortoises (hunted to extinction over a century and a half ago), has been found to be an excellent grazer of exotic, unwanted plants, leaving valuable native plants to grow undisturbed — much like a selective, benign, lumbering, lawn mower. If trials are successful this tortoise will soon be utilised on Round Island.

As the first few droplets of rain fell from the sky and clung gently to the forest grime that had already laid claim to my face, I realised that the time for reflection had passed and I ought to get moving. Limited experience of the tropics told me that these droplets do not usually travel in ones and twos, and so I would be wise to begin my descent before the mountains gave up their valiant struggle to hold back the clouds. I could imagine my mosquito welcoming committee in the vegetation below tutting and looking at their watches. I felt a mixture of emotions as I looked out over the forest for one last time: a great sense of pride at what had been achieved, a tinge of sadness that human impact invariably causes such damage, but mostly an enormous sense of hope and excitement for the future. Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, as part of its ongoing commitment to saving species worldwide, will continue to support the efforts of the Mauritian Wildlife Foundation in its endeavours to protect and propagate the animals and plants of this unique environment. And talking of another unique environment, the keepers and staff on site in Jersey will carry on investing our skill and expertise in caring for the precious animals entrusted to us by the government and people of Mauritius.