2 Oct 2001
Nature presents many mysteries. Some four million
years ago, a small archipelago arose 670 km (415 mi) west of South America, off the
central coast of present-day Chile. Because they are volcanic in origin, these
islands have never been connected to the continent. Yet living there today is a
hummingbird, the Juan Fernandez Firecrown - descendant of wayfaring hummers that somehow
managed to cross this expanse of ocean. About 500 of these remarkable birds live on
Isla Robinson Crusoe and nowhere else in the world. They are all that remain of
about ten times that number thought to exist when the island was discovered by the Spanish
in 1574. I have come to see this bird for myself.
We fly from Santiago in a small Rockwell Aero Commander, seating five
passengers and the pilot. Three monotonous hours later, the plane descends though
the clouds to reveal the Isla, an austere volcanic block thrust out of the ocean.
In addition to the bird, the Isla's main claim to fame is that it was the home of the
real-life Robinson Crusoe, a Scotsman named Alexander Selkirk. In 1704, he was put
ashore voluntarily after an argument with the captain of the ship on which he was
traveling. Selkirk lived on the island, with only goats for company, for over 4
years before his rescue. His experience inspired the famous novel by Defoe, who of
course took literary licence. The ship didn't sink, the island is no tropical
paradise, there were no natives from which to recruit Friday.
The island's only habitation is San Juan Bautista, in sheltered
Cumberland Bay. I am met at the dock by Matthew, whose mother Ina runs Pension
Farnland, my residence for the week. Matthew speaks four languages and has been
trained as a guide. That is the good news. On the way to the pension he
conveys the bad: the Firecrown has taken to the hills to mate, and feeds high in
eucalyptus trees this time of year. In my careful planning for the trip, this vital
bit of information somehow eluded me.
3 Oct 2001
As foretold, I locate the Firecrown in exotic
eucalyptus. It is very different from most hummers: the size of a goldfinch,
it has oversized feet for perching on flowers, and seldom hovers. The male is quite
a songster, with a repertoire of melodious trills and sharp whistles. The female,
emerald green and white with a blue crown, is so different from the brick-red male that
for 35 years after their discovery, they were thought to be separate species. She
also establishes and defends her own territory, which is unusual among birds.
5 Oct 2001
CONAF, the Chilean equivalent of our Forest
Service, has the unenviable task of trying to remedy four centuries of environmental abuse
to the Isla by humans: rats, goats, coatis, and a flood of exotic plants, the worst
of which is European bramble. To help control it, a bounty has been placed on the
Austral Thrush, recently introduced from its native Chile and Argentina. Its offense
is that it eats bramble fruit and spreads their seed, from deep quebrada to ridge crest.
Hunters are encouraged to shoot this bird, and to retain its feet as evidence.
The hunter who bags the most by year's end wins a color TV; to the second-place
winner goes a CD player. That seems a bit cold until one sees the bramble. It
forms vast impenetrable thickets, some 4-5 m high, smothering all other plants.
CONAF crews work full-time for weeks just to win back a few acres covered by
bramble. It is a true plague on the island.