By Mike Alaimo, Lead Adopt a Wildlife Area (AWA) Volunteer
This article originally appeared in Wisconsin Waterfowl Association’s February, 2023 Newsletter edition.
Hawaiin Goose, or nēnē
As the waterfowl season pushed into January, it was hard not to think about following the migration south. Images of timber hunts and ducks piling into flooded rice fields are tantalizing to the soul. But, I had a higher calling. After crushing a bucket list item in late November (an Eider hunt in Maine – maybe a story for later), I was determined to conquer another item on my list, which was visiting my 50th and last state – Hawai’i.
For someone built like a midwestern polar bear, heat is not my friend. January seemed like the best time to head to the tropics. Plus, migrating humpback whales make their appearance to the islands during winter, which spelled out a win win.
The plan was simple. Island hop to three islands, visit some really cool sites and beaches, pay my respects to those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, hopefully see a whale breach, take in the vista of a volcano (which ended up erupting before we were wheels up), eat some fresh Ahi and on and on.
Not on the list… anything duck related. Come on, it’s Hawai’i.
WWA actually was off my radar, and frankly, anything work related was targeted for temporary amnesia. I was there to relax and see something new. And this is where the wheels fall off.
Fun Fact: The Hawaiian state bird is the Hawaiian Goose, or nēnē.
If you are cruising around the islands, you may actually see nēnē crossing signs in the most curious of places. Well, that is because the range of the nēnē extends from the coast all the way up the volcanic slopes to roughly 7,000 feet.
And there is the rub, as the arrival of Europeans was their downfall. A population in the tens of thousands was crippled by being a food source for whalers, and later the introduction of the mongoose and other predators did the rest. By the 1950’s, less than three dozen birds remained. Many attempts to reintroduce the species were met with mixed results. Agriculture and the growth of communities/resorts destroyed their natural habitat. Predators still run around uncontrolled, which heavily impacts the success of nesting pairs. Thinking out loud… how many species have had the same issues in the continental US? Seems like these are easy dots to connect.
Conservation efforts almost seemed futile, until success and fate collided. The population is now a tenth of what it was, but it is growing. How is this possible? Bones. Yup, old remains found on Kaua’i. Why was this important? No mongoose danger on the island and refuges like the Halanei National Wildlife Refuge reside on Kaua’i. Details can be found on the refuge website, and it is worth reading. Basically, conservationists did not want to reintroduce the nēnē to Kaua’i, as there were no historical records showing they were ever there. The bones found unlocked the door. Conservation again righted a wrong, and I can only hope their luck continues.
Circling back to the Halanei NWR, it is not open to the public, so it can better protect many species of waterfowl and shorebirds. From the vantage of an overlook, visitors can see the refuge, which is strange on its own. It looks like a series of rice paddies with tall mountains as a back drop. Not far from this location, Hollywood reintroduced dinosaurs to Hawai’i, so it is surreal indeed.
At this same outlook, I also discovered that some migrating species are allowed to enter the refuge. From my calculations, they may have flown further than most vacationers on the island. I was astonished to see that the Northern Shoveler and Northern Pintail call this home during the winter. They travel from places like Siberia and Alaska. I thought the Southwest flight with a small snack pack was long. My head cannot wrap itself around the fact that there is ocean forever, which they travel over. No freshwater and no food. These are puddle ducks. I then think about the black tern and how they go all the way to South America. Again, nature is amazing. I imagine that a flight of ducks were blown off of their “three hour tour”, only to return year after year.
So, the trip was unsuccessful to a degree. Ducks entered the picture, and I thought about WWA, which resulted in this somewhat brief article. I learned something new and found common ground, with lands five hours by jet from our west coast. It is truly a small world, although quite large.