Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
October 24, 2003
One worker here likes to lie down in the middle of the runway and moan. Another talks to the red-footed boobies she has banded.
Residents of Tern Island have aloha for brown widow spiders, welcome sharks while snorkeling and carry cockroaches outside rather than kill them.
Some of these quirks are common among people who have chosen to work with wildlife. Most biologists and their helpers believe that every living creature has a right to exist. But the main reason life is a little goofy around here is that the animals we handle evolved with no land predators and, therefore, aren’t afraid of humans.
Want to get a close-up picture of a wedge-tailed shearwater? Lie on your stomach on the runway, where these gentle seabirds rest by the dozens, and then groan softly.
Wedgies, as they’re affectionately known, make mating calls that sound like a person in pain. Fake a little agony, lie still, and a wedgie will waddle over and check you out.
That’s what biologist and photographer Alex Wegmann was doing when he was out there on his belly bawling. He got some great shots.
Cari Eggleston is the woman who bands and talks to booby birds. “Remember me?” she says to them as she passes. “I’m the lady who gave you the pretty bracelet.”
Since last spring this volunteer biologist has monitored a designated plot of red-footed boobies. She noted the day each female laid an egg and when it hatched.
To get this breeding information, workers look beneath brooding birds using what they call a tip stick. Moving slowly, they place the padded end of this 3-foot-long stick near the base of the bird’s chest and gently lift. The parent (both male and female seabirds sit on eggs and protect chicks) rises slightly and then settles back down on its offspring.
During this procedure, booby birds, about the size of big chickens, take on a puzzled yet indignant look. If they could talk, they would probably say, “Get a life.” But mostly they tolerate this peeking with few complaints and rarely fly away.
Such genetic tameness is endearing to wildlife fans and makes research easier, but in a world teeming with human predators, it’s a distinct disadvantage.
Old-time sailors, who gave booby birds their silly name, deemed the birds stupid because they allowed the men to simply reach out and wring their necks. Booby is Spanish for dunce.
Monk seals and sea turtles, which also lack a natural fear of people, defended themselves no better. Before Teddy Roosevelt declared Hawaii’s Northwest chain a wildlife refuge in 1909, people slaughtered seabirds, turtles and seals here by the millions.
Although most seabirds have since recovered their numbers, turtles are slower to reproduce and lag behind. Monk seals, the fussiest breeders of the bunch, barely hang on. Only about 1,400 remain.
For wild animals in this world, the best survival tactic around humans is to hide or flee. Or live in a refuge like this one.
The people and animals that coexist here are a good match. Life may be loopy — a few nights ago a kolea cracked us up by strolling across the living room floor while we watched a movie — but it’s also a good time.
Living on Tern Island is like living in a Dr. Seuss story.