Hawai'ian Goose (Nene)

(Photo: August 2010 at Kawaiele Waterbird Sanctuary, Kaua’i, Hawai’i)

Whenever I travel to the Hawai’ian island of Kaua’i, I am always moved by the pristine beauty of the island’s nature.  I especially enjoy hiking in the Koke’e area in the mountains where I can walk among the dense ohi’a lehua trees and listen for the melodious songs of many native Hawai’ian songbirds such as the ‘Apapane, the ‘Amakihi, and the ‘Elepaio.  But the highlight of each trip is searching for the Nene, also known as the Hawai’ian goose (Branta sandvicensis).  As a young boy in elementary school, I learned about how the Nene was taken to the brink of extinction (by 1951, only 33 wild Nene remained), and saved only through the intervention of concerted breeding and conservation programs.  Living on the urbanized island of O’ahu, I had no opportunity to see a Nene in the wild, and because of that I developed a strong yearning to meet the plump, friendly-looking bird in its natural surroundings. It wasn’t until I reached my 30’s that I finally photographed my first Nene, and since then, I photograph the magnificent birds whenever I get a chance.

(Photo: August 2004 at Kalalau Lookout, Koke’e, Kaua’i, Hawai’i)

My most memorable encounter with Nene occurred early one morning on a hiking trip to Koke’e.  To make the most of the day, we arrived at the trail head while it was still dark.  As the morning sun rose from the east, I heard the baritone honking of a flock of Nene gliding in from the west.  The flock circled our position once, and then convinced that we were no threat, they elegantly floated down to land in the open area where we had parked our car, only a few meters away from where I was standing.  The magic of that moment has stayed with me ever since.

(Photo: August 2004 at Kalalau Lookout, Koke’e, Kaua’i, Hawai’i)

Amazingly, many Nene are fairly accustomed to humans.  They will not allow you to get within touching range, but they will allow you to get close enough to take good photographs.  In the photograph below, a flock of Nene investigate my backpack for possible food.  Back at that time (the 1990’s), well-meaning but uninformed visitors would sometimes feed bread or potato chips to the birds, and so the birds probably came to associate bags with food.  More recently, there are stronger educational efforts and posted signs intended to eliminate that type of conduct.

(Photo: August 1996, at Kalalau Lookout, Koke’e, Kaua’i, Hawai’i)

Nene are sometimes even bold enough to hang out at hotels.  Here is a flock of Nene on the grounds of the Kaua’i Mariott Resort in Lihue, Kaua’i.

(Photos: August 2013, Kaua’i Mariott Resort, Lihue, Kaua’i)

And here is a video taken at the Kaua’i Mariott Resort in August 2013.

 According to the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, Nene are categorized as a “Vulnerable” species with a statewide population that was estimated in 2011 to be only about 2500 birds.  Because these birds are so rare, and because their association to Hawai’i is so strong, I was very surprised to see them at zoos in Japan.

Here is one at the Himeji Central Park Safari and Amusement Park in Hyogo Prefecture.  I counted 13 Nene resident in this collection.

 (Photo: June 2012)

Here is another at the Sendai City Yagiyama Zoological Park in Miyagi Prefecture.  I counted at least 19 Nene in this enclosure.  (It was hard to get a good count because there was a lot of bush cover in the enclosure and some of the Nene kept walking around.)

(Photo: April 2014)

Whether it be in the mountains of Koke’e, the Kawaiele wetlands near Mana, on the grounds of a Lihue hotel, or even at a zoo in Japan, I am always happy to meet a Nene.  Their easygoing manner makes me feel relaxed. Their continued existence makes me hopeful of what conservation efforts can achieve. 

Dwarf Mongooses

When I go to Tennoji Zoo in Osaka, I always make time to visit the dwarf mongoose enclosure.  Dwarf mongooses (Helogale parvula) are originally from parts of east and southern Africa.  They average about 18 to 28 centimeters in length and about 200 to 350 grams in weight.  They are small and irresistibly cute.  

Dwarf mongoose enclosure at Tennoji Zoo. (Photo taken April 2012).

In the wild, they often make their homes in termite mounds, and their display at Tennoji Zoo includes replica termite mounds, complete with a fake lizard. 

According to the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species, a 2008 assessment of dwarf mongooses gave them the status of “Least Concern”.  It’s nice to know that they are not an endangered species.

On one of my visits, I was lucky enough to arrive just at feeding time.  A zookeeper entered the enclosure with a bamboo tube that had holes drilled into it like a flute.  The bamboo tube was full of some kind of mealworm or insect larvae, and when the dwarf mongooses saw it, they all came scurrying out of their holes.

It was fascinating to watch the dwarf mongooses scratch and sniff at the tube.

I guess even dwarf mongooses have to work for their dinners.

Gotcha!

The video below of grooming dwarf mongooses was recorded on April 15, 2012.

Unless otherwise noted, all photos in this posting were taken in January 2012.

Cute.   Very cute!

Nutria: cute or disgusting?

The first time I saw a Nutria (Myocastor coypus) up close, I wasn’t sure if I was more charmed or disgusted.  They have round chubby bodies and somewhat resemble beavers (which are cute). But unlike the beaver which has a flat paddle-like tail, the nutria has a long, round tail and looks a lot like a giant rat (which is not so cute).  Nutria, also known as “Coypu”, are good swimmers, and are sometimes called “river rats” or “water rats”.

Adult nutria will have a body length of about 50 to 70 centimeters, a tail length of about 35 to 50 centimeters, and weigh 4.5 to 7 kilograms. Originally from South America, nutria were brought to Japan in the late 1930’s as a source of fur for military uniforms and as a possible food item. After the war ended, the demand for farmed nutria evaporated, and many were simply released into the surrounding countryside where they established stable populations.  

Nutria live near bodies of water where they dig nests along the muddy banks and eat vegetation.  In the countryside, they often venture into farms, and are now considered a serious agricultural pest throughout parts of Japan’s Gifu, Aichi, Kyoto, Osaka, Hyogo, Mie, Tottori, Shimane, Okayama, and Hiroshima prefectures.  They are reported to cause great amounts of crop damage, and the Ministry of the Environment has designated them as an Invasive Alien Species, facilitating eradication efforts by local governments.

These photos show a nutria eating lettuce that was put out to feed swans at Koyoike Pond in Itami City, Hyogo Prefecture.  (All photos on this posting were taken at Koyoike in July and October 2010.)

The video below was recorded at Tennoji Zoo in Osaka.  

You might be able to hear some children mistakenly calling the nutria “Capybara”.  (It seems to me that children at zoos in Japan tend to be much louder than in the United States.)

Despite mass media and local governments’ public information campaigns demonizing the nutria, some people think that the nutria are cute and continue to feed the animals in defiance of signs put up by the city discouraging such behavior. 

Nutria: are they cute?  Or are they disgusting?

Senichi and Ayako, an Osaka Love/Hate Story

Amur tigers (Panthera tigris altaica) are designated in the IUCN Red List as an “Endangered” species.  A 2010 assessment estimated the population in the wild to be only 360 individuals. For this reason, Amur tiger cubs born in zoos are considered valuable for species conservation efforts.

The Osaka Municipal Tennoji Zoo has two Amur tigers. Ayako, the female, was born on June 7, 1997 at Tennoji.  Senichi, the male, was born on May 23, 2003 at the Tokyo Tama Zoological Park.  When Senichi was first brought to Tennoji, there were great hopes that he would eventually mate with Ayako and produce many cubs.  Eleven years later, there are still no cubs between the two.  Apparently, just as in human marriages, compatibility and differences in personality are important.  

Ayako (November 4, 2013 photo)

Senichi (October 24, 2012 photo)

In this marriage, Ayako is definitely the boss.  And she seems to have little interest in getting intimate with Senichi.  When Senichi tries to approach her, more often than not, she responds with a growl or a paw to Senichi’s face. 

The video below shows a typical day in the Tennoji zoo tiger exhibit.  Although it was recorded two years ago, I don’t think the situation has changed much.

And here are some photos:

Don’t touch me! (January 10, 2011 photo)

Stay out! (January 13, 2013 photo)

No kisses here.  (January 11, 2014 photo)

Poor Senichi, he doesn’t seem to be able to catch a break.

Love At First Sight

I clearly remember how she stepped out from behind the trees and into the morning light.  I even remember the date (March 11, 2013), and the time of day (7:50 a.m.).  Like the royalty she was, she walked with a confident and leisurely gait – casually glancing first to her left and then to her right.  She turned her gaze again to the left, and it seemed that her eyes were looking directly into mine.  Such beautiful eyes, such a piercing gaze.  It felt as though she could see right through me…  She moved forward and leaned into a tree, barely brushing her smooth back against its coarse bark as she walked past.  

And then she sprayed urine all over it.

Since the time I was a young boy, I have been fascinated with animals, especially tigers.  I often thought it would be really neat to travel to the jungles of Asia and photograph one in its natural surroundings, but it always seemed like something that could be done only by famous zoologists, or professional photographers, or people with tons of money.  Last year, I was lucky enough to see that dream come true.  And I’m not a zoologist, not a professional photographer, and my wallet is sufficiently lightweight.   I’ll launch this blog with the photograph I took that morning.  This is the first photograph that I ever took of a tiger in the wild.  I hope that it is not the last.

Tigers can be identified by the patterns of their stripes.  Like fingerprints, supposedly no two are the same.  After searching the internet, I have come to believe that the tigress I photographed is referred to as the “Sukhi Patiya female”.  The photograph was taken in the Bandhavgarh Tiger Reserve in Madhya Pradesh, India.