Four Palila birds take Mauna Kea by storm!

We're down from 7, which is sad, and I'll get the sad stuff out of the way first, then move on to the happy singing stories. #87 (green banded girl) was found, before I returned, on a Pu'u (hill), in the form of feathers, guts and transmitter. The suspicion is that an 'Io got her since a rat would have been more chewy. I'd rather an 'Io get her than a rat. Though, I'd like to announce to all 'Io that Palila birds are off-limits. Go after those HOFI and CAQU chicks instead, please.

And numbers 60 (pink/pink singing dude) and 89 (flighty white banded guy) are missing, presumed dead. Again, I wasn't there when they were released and took off, but have spent the last 9 days looking for our poor little birds. I feel we should post missing posters around Hilo and Waimea with pictures of them, askin "have you seen these birds?" It might also draw awareness of the palila's plight in general. We've looked east and west of the release site, and even around to the west slope (where the core palila population exists) and on the south side along the saddle road. It's been exhausting and depressing to search with no response and, in all reality, no likelihood of finding them alive. The best we can hope for is to find their transmitters and evidence of their fates, if only to inform our future approach to release.

So, on to the good news! Numbers 76 (blue-banded pod-cruncher) and 75 (King of the mamane tree on the hill) found each other after some separation and now occupy an area above the grid (helluva hike uphill) where they eat pods non-stop all day and contact call to each other.

Number 94 (orange flower girl) found her way uphill as well, though not as far as the males. I have seen her eating flowers happily in the morning sun. She was chased briefly from a tree by wild birds RW/RW: Wh/Al and one of the unbandeds. I sat down to write the sightings and observations in my notebook and within 10 minutes she was back, eating pods with gusto. So, she's holding her own and by all appearances is having a blast in her new wild and crazy life.

The littlest palila bird we released, Number 94 (little red-banded one) had been hanging out in the immediate proximity to Hack Tower 2, from which she was released. Koa trees surround HT2, and so she was limited in her options for wild food. She continued coming down for supplemental food, and occasionally interacted with wild HOFIs (mimicking them) and had a friendly encounter with a wild pair (R/G: LG/Al and his unbanded lady), though she didn't follow them when they left. But the day before yesterday she had found her way to HT1, where the mamane trees are abundant and have pods to offer. She was singing and eating. I don't know what her progress has been since I left on Sunday, but my guess is that she will hang around HT1 for a while and make her way up to join 90 uphill and take her place as a wild and crazy palila bird.

In other news, turkeys are lekking and the first of their chicks are starting to run around the mountain. There are lots of pigs up in the forest reserve. Optimistic and dedicated state biologists came to plant mamane seedlings in the mitigation land. And Mana road, 6 miles to the east, is impassable due to serious mud.

News flash: it's cold up on Mauna Kea

It got down to 29F one night, and in the morning the truck windshield was frozen (I had an urge to break out my credit card and start scraping, but the heater and wipers did the trick), the puddle of water on the tarp had a skin of ice, and the whole slope of chocolate black sand was dusted in powdered sugary frost. beautiful, and cold as hell. of course the palila were as chipper and bouncy as ever, excited for their foodpans and flowers.

I'm heading up again for 9 days tomorrow and I sure hope it's stopped raining up there. The last session was a dreary routine: wake up to fog, notice some clearing as we headed up the mountain, see the clouds rolling in as we fed the birds, be enclosed in roiling mists by 10:00, and break out the rain gear by 11. Head back to camp where the rest of the afternoon and evening would be punctuated by the sound of hard rain on the corrugated metal roof of the drafty cabin, eat a hot meal and retire to the sleeping bag by 19:00. Then waking up again to the same day all over again. I'm just going to say that I'm secretly hoping for a sunburn this next session.

Because of the nasty weather, the release was postponed a couple days, which meant I was not present for the birds' first foray into the wilds of the mamane forest on the north side of Mauna Kea. And true to my desire to keep work as separate as possible, I haven't sought a bulletin. But after 3 days of rain in Volcano, I'm raring to go track those transmittered birds.

News from Palila camp

Seven captive reared Palila were helicoptered in from the KBCC captive rearing facility. Their journey took 15 minutes, while it takes 4 hours for us land-crawlers to get to the release sight by truck. They're all doing great in their hack towers where they'll acclimate to the new (and cold!) environment for 2 weeks before being released with transmitters. They eat...all...day...long. They especially love mamane flowers; I fear for mamane flowers upon their release.

The north slope camp is much as I remember, and is quite luxurious for a field camp with propane fridge, hot water heater and stove. The first two nights I was up there were frickin' freezing, down in the 20s! But when the birds got there, the overnight lows rose to a balmy mid-thirtys. The hike to transect 119 is hellish as ever, the air is still dry, the black volcanic sand is still slidy, and the slope is just as steep as I remember. It's great to be back up there for 9 days at a time.

When I left yesterday only 3 color banded wild birds had been seen, plus one or maybe 2 unbanded birds. The unbanded birds are exciting since they are most likely fledglings from the past couple years. I personally saw one pair of wild Palila. One allofed the other, which probably means they are gearing up for the breeding season.

The drive to and from Palila camp never fails to depress. Cattle are in the mitigation land. Giant skeletons of ancient Koa trees litter the otherwise barren, rolling, grassy landscape. And discussions about what can be done always end in frustration with state government and private landowners. But there are seven little Palila birds ready to give it their all to survive in an increasingly difficult world, so the least we can do is watch to see how they do, and speak on their behalf.