Ryan Potter Blog 2 - Stranger Weather

Stranger Weather: 
October 9, 2017
This past week/weekend we got our first full taste of winter weather here on Kure. Starting Thursday, four days of rain and high winds (average 20+mph with gusts as high as 47) put a damper on our usual routines and left us all a little soggy. As I write this, my laundry has just finally dried after sitting in an on-and-off rinse cycle out on the line all weekend after washing it optimistically thinking the sun would come out Saturday. 
On days we work, if the rain is strong and steady enough, it limits our ability to treat the island by making spraying ineffective. Usually we find other tasks to do like out-planting missions or nursery tasks that don’t mind the extra water so Virginie and the gang set out to out-plant a number of natives across the island. Catchment tanks were filled, the cistern gained over half an inch of water, and everything got a rinse after a long hot summer. 
Unfortunately, with enough rain or storm clouds, we get less sun which lends to lower charges on our solar panels and thus no power for us to use for personal items as refrigerators and operating systems need what energy there is. With gray skies all weekend just about everyone’s laptop or electronics were dead. Knowing poor weather lies ahead, you usually try to use any day with enough sun to charge what you can and hope it lasts long enough as we learned. 
One other thing rain can mean, especially when it comes via a storm like we experienced, is bringing new strangers in. What I mean by this is fall migrant/vagrant birds that make landfall here on Kure. The concept still blows my mind how a bird could be traveling that far from land, or venture that far off course yet find one of the few specks, and I mean speck of land in this vast expanse of open ocean. 
It’s common for Kure to see the arrivals of birds throughout the season and as I was emerging from the water on Thursday, I happened to notice six birds flying over the lagoon that were not ‘suppose’ to be here. The flight pattern was off and they were clearly ducks but far too big to be a Laysan Teal. Our duck checks Friday turned nothing up so when I started to question if I had made a wrong call, Andy had a late night flyby sighting that struck the same thought. A quick trip out Sunday turned up 15 Cattle Egrets, not the birds I saw but still unexpected, and then Monday morning settled the score, 10 Northern Pintails and an additional Eurasian Widgeon (pending final IDs). 
I’m accustom to seeing one or two birds show up but to have so many in one swoop is a whole new level of excitement. Running between seeps trying to capture an identifiable image while they circled over the island was a rush. Well, that was until we came back from spraying for lunch. Rounding the corner from the Beach Heliotrope next to the pier, myself and a few others were stopped in our tracks as Jill and Zack gasped some high pitched noise of joy and in complete shock, turned to tell us the first albatross was here. Cue a couple more high pitched noises, perplex looks as to if the image was real, and an overall air of the greatest surprise getting pulled off right before our eyes. There it was, the first Black-footed Albatross for winter 2017. 
It was a lifer for several, a reminder of so much for myself. There it sat likely exhausted from its long journey in, awaiting the arrival of the thousands to come and quite possibly, its own special one. Two weeks earlier than we anticipated, we were all caught off-guard but that’s what makes it all the more extraordinary as no one was ready for it, and finally, they’re here and with and with a few strange others. 
DLNR/DOFAW Kure crewmember, 
Ryan Potter

Ryan Potter - blog 1 Same Same but Different

Same Same but Different
September 13, 2017

To think that during any given year only 15 to 20 people get to set foot on and see Green Island, KureAtoll, there's something special about having the chance to return and experience it for a second time like I am. When we arrived to the white sand beach for offload day, there was a calming touch of returning to a place that feels like home. The sight of the turquoise lagoon, the bending dunes of naupaka bushes along the shore, and the call of past friends flying through the air all were familiar and couldn’t have been better. 

Over the course of our first week of work I can’t help but notice that for how much feels the same here, so much has changed to the island I left behind in April 2016. In camp alone, areas I remember being open ground now stand under thick patches of kawelu bunch grass our crew planted as sprouts that winter. Other places on the island have undergone similar changes and paths I remember taking are now impeded with the growth and maturation of native plants across the island. There are even a few new native plants that have been propagated and outplanted that I haven’t seen before. 

That’s part of the joy to returning. To serve a season working here you see small changes and experience the overall beauty but you don’t really get a first hand grasp on the changes happening from the restoration efforts of each crew before you. You see seasonal changes like the die back of alena and nohu in the winter or increase in verbesina sprouts in spring but you lose the ability to see long term changes like the thick stands of verbesina that once dominated certain parts of the island or new growth by outplanting efforts like those camp kawelu. In a single season you can feel the result of the hard work you’ve done but you might not ever see it fully play out. That’s why a second chance here has already been worth it less than two weeks in.  

One thing that hasn’t changed is how many moments Kure can take your breath away with. From the animal life around us to the picturesque sunsets we’ve had that even DreamWorks couldn’t come up with, Kure gives you something you can’t experience anywhere else. I knew this from before but there’s something unique to knowing what can happen and seeing the reactions of those experiencing it for the first time ever. I’ve already lost count the number of times I’ve heard “Oh my gosh, this is amazing!” or variations of the sort. Small things have changed but the overall picture hasn’t.  

Our first week of work might have been hot, sweaty, and dirty, but it has all been a part of the experience and a good start to hopefully eight incredible journeys. So thank you Kure for having me back and never failing to disappoint, safe to say so far so good for those of us here right now. 

DLNR/DOFAR Kure crew member, 
Ryan Potterr

Ryan Potter - Part 2: Cruise Aloha

Part 2: Cruise Aloha
August 29, 2017

“See the line where sky meets the sea, it calls me.
And no one knows, how far it goes.
If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me,
One day I’ll know… if I go there’s just no telling how far I’ll go.”

It might seem cliché but if there was a need to describe how many of us feel about this journey to Kure, the lines from Disney’s Moana seem fit for the experience.

Given how remote Kure Atoll is, there’s no quick and easy way to arrive to the island besides the long ride up the Northwestern Hawaiian Island chain starting from Honolulu. With an extended trip after a stop off the shore of Laysan Island, the seven of us patiently sat aboard the M/V Kahana sailing up the chain in the final wait for our season to officially begin on Green Island within Kure Atoll. 

A cross somewhere between a reality TV show and luxury cruise, our time on the Kahana fell into an eight day cycle of wake, eat, lounge on deck, eat, nap on deck, ice cream, eat again, watch the sunset, stargaze, probably eat some more, and finally go to bed. Besides the occasional moments of sudden restlessness, it seemed we all took to the habits we were required to be under and the sway of the boat became normal. It helped that there was enough to keep us distracted between watching seabirds skim the horizon, gorge ourselves on delicious food we wouldn’t have for the seven months ahead, and keep the jokes and banter going we seemed to hit upon during our first days on Oahu. Other particular highlights from our cruise include a phenomenal green flash at sunrise, a new perspective on stars and the moon, and a face to face with a giant ulua. 

As much as we have enjoyed the journey, one thing the voyage up the island chain teaches you is just how remote Kure Atoll really is. Looking at it from Google Earth you can conceptualize the giant blue abyss surrounding the speck Kure forms but to actually spend the time in that abyss puts it into a whole new perspective. The strange yet beautiful thing about the open ocean is that here you are in this seemingly barren desert of water with no sight of land in any direction and yet you almost always see a constant stream of seabirds flying by.

This is one of the things that attract me to seabirds personally. Their ability to traverse and fill the space nothing else has, is proof of the feats and freedom they have accomplished in their many forms of flight and foraging. Shearwaters and albatross have harnessed the winds to travel thousands of miles with minimal effort, boobies utilize plunge diving to catch fish out of reach from the surface, and frigate birds have mastered the art of sleeping on clouds in their week long journeys never touching down. Moreover, all these birds some how navigate this barren landscape by use of an internal compass and evening stars, returning to specks of land you can hardly make out on the horizon even when you are only a couple miles away from them. Birds we are passing could easily be circling down from Kure and making it back before we even get half way there and to me that’s amazing. 

As the time aboard the boat comes to an end, as we say goodbye to the last company we’ll see besides our crew all winter long, as we take our last hot

Kure Spinner Dolphins (Photo credit Cynthia Vanderlip)

showers, and eat our last fresh food, you can see the urge to get to Kure grow stronger and the reach to know what lies at that line where the sky meets the sea grows more visible amongst us all. I’ve been fortunate to go there before and to see how far it can takes us after, my hope now is to simply be a part of the journey with each of those experiencing it for the first time and seeing how this land of sand and sea teaches and touches them as is has me.  

And if there was any better way to start that journey, our first albatross gliding by during our final ship sunset and then waking up to flat seas and spinner dolphins nearby seemed like the best way to script an ending to the voyage to where we all can’t wait to be. 

DLNR/DOFAW Kure crewmember, 
Ryan Potter

Ryan Potter - Part 1: Beginnings and Return for Winter 2017

Part 1: Beginnings and Return for Winter 2017
August 24, 2017

My writing and name might be familiar to some and I'm excited for the opportunity to share the experience of life and work on Kure with you all once again. Coming back for a second season after working with the 2015/2016 winter crew, there's a new level of excitement in returning to the place that is Kure Atoll. 

Having done this before, I knew well the requirements for working on island but the first step like last time was getting to Honolulu and meeting the new crew. It's easy to overlook the fact that just about all of us met one another a mere seven days before boarding a ship and setting way for Kure to spend seven months together with no one else. However hard the work is out there, getting the right balance of people and a common bond between them is as crucial a part to a successful season of habitat restoration as is anything else. 

Waiting for this moment since January, eight months of anticipation was made worth it the moment I landed in Oahu and met whom we'd be working with all winter long. With a group of seven plus the addition of one individual (Virginie T.) already on island staying over from summer, eight people feels like a lot but our initial interactions spells well for the time ahead as we’ve made quite the little ohana (family) already. 

With backgrounds to include work studying stopover ecology of birds in Florida, habitat restoration in New Zealand, bird and plant surveys in Vermont, turtle and biodiversity work in Greece and South Africa to work with native birds and plants in Maui to Andy's and my own previous experience on Kure, we're a well-rounded team and each able to bring a similar understanding to the job we are doing. However different and widespread our pasts might appear, it didn't even take a full day to feel we had all known each other for years as the jokes and laughs came rolling out faster than our hands were packing and passing over 350 buckets of food, clothes, supplies, and a whole lot of juice for the season. 

There's no better feeling when you have a group that meshes immediately and it only helps more when each individual realizes we're all in this boat together. Personalities are key, hard working, dedicated attitudes are crucial, but coming together as one, that just makes it feel right and all the more worth it. Shared experiences have more hold and power I feel and that’s why it is an honor to be back at Kure and sharing our story with each of you for the season.

Stay tuned and thank you.  

DLNR/DOFAW Kure crewmember,
Ryan Potter

Virginie Ternisien - Derelict Eclectic Human Trash

Derelict Eclectic Human Trash

One day as we were spraying an area that had its borders on the beach, a derelict fishing line in the lagoon caught the eyes of Matt, crew leader. A look with his mini binoculars that fit in our fanny pack, confirmed the presence of this entangled hazard in the reef which can harm the corals and entangle wildlife. Debris in the lagoon and at our shorelines come from fishing boats and cities, existing at hundreds and thousands of miles away from our protected water…!!

After conditions were assessed safe to capture the debris, operations in the field stopped right away, as removing entanglement hazards is one of our top priorities on the island. Two people stayed on shore to watch the debris and other potential hazards. The presence of sharks and endangered species such as the Hawaiian monk seals and green turtles can stop the progress of any operation. The other 4 persons, including myself, walked back to our camp to get swimming gear and items such as radio, handheld GPS, depth gauge meter, pocket knife, sunscreen, snacks, fins, goggles, extra layers, life vests, and so on. We would work until the hazard is completely removed from the water and brought back to a secure location. Taking the boat out in the lagoon involves many preparation tasks so if we have the opportunity to use it, we ensure to utilize it to its maximum. Marine debris that landed on our shore are staged at designated collection points around the island whose some are accessible by wheel barrel. If not, the boat comes then very handy. All debris collected will be piled up securely at the pier and be later contained in super sacks to be transported to Honolulu, usually at the end of a season or when a willing vessel agrees to take it. For each debris removed, we record its location both collected and stored, a short description, and its estimated volume and dry weight.

While on the boat, your eyes can catch the presence of other marine debris and wildlife through this transparent interface that the lagoon offers. Have the camera ready because it is always quite a unique experience! When we finally arrived at the designated location, a look from above revealed a one cubic meter fishing net which was not too entangled within the coral. Also, no wildlife was entrapped. That was our luck to catch it before the situation got worse! Its removal was completed by two people in a few minutes. You must stay away from the coral, float in the water, and cut the net from where the current is pulling it to avoid any damage to the coral and wounds. After disentangling the coral, we rolled the net into a burrito-shaped object and carried it to our boat, stationed closely. Matt, crew leader, was staying inside to look for any wildlife and to receive the net.Then, we toured the island and stopped at collection points to pick up as many debris as the boat could safely contain. After three hours of intensive work, the pile of trash on the boat reached shoulder height, made of various plastic crates, fishing nets, hooks, lines and traps but also large FADs (Fish Aggregating Device) and buoys. Back at the pier, we unloaded the boat and carried the heavy hazards, full of sand and water, from the shore up to the pier. Oh hisse! Some complete plastic crates were carried inland to protect our outplantings in the field. Here comes the number that makes each of us very proud: we collected a total of 1050 lbs of marine debris covering about 4 cube meters! Each of them is one less threat in the ocean and multiple life have been saved. We collected about 50% of the total debris staged on the island. More work needs to be done!

Everyday, we see trash on Kure: light bulbs, lighters, toothbrushes, liquor bottles, shoes (often the right side!), bottle lids, fishing net and weights, plastic bags, plastic containers, kids figurines, just to name a few. Not only do they exist in the lagoon and at our shorelines, but also inland, coming from a +30 years of Coast Guard occupation to items collected by seabirds, often red and black plastic, floating on the water and often mistaken for squid and flying fish parts. There is not one bolus (regurgitation from albatross chicks) or stomach content from carcasses that is free of plastic fragments. Birds die from its ingestion, regurgitation and starvation. The Noddies use the fishing debris as nesting materials which can entrap ground nesting birds such as Red-tailed tropic birds. Not to mention that recently, two weaned pups have been rescued from having their head and neck caught in a fishing net. They often constitute macabre objects of curiosity. Without our intervention, they would not have survived. It reminds us about our daily kuleana (responsibility) to care for our planet which comes with reducing drastically our waste consumption. The less the better if we look toward a sustainable and livable future for all earthlings.

Well on a much happier note, we are now a team of 6 DLNR (Department of Land and Natural Resources) personnel with the addition of Matt Chauvin that arrived late June. He is called “Matt Geo” (which photographs might end up in Nat Geo magazine, just saying…!) but also “Young” or “New” Matt, in reference to our older Matt, crew leader. Matt Geo is originally from Oregon. He studied Marine Biology at the University of Hawaii and currently lives in the Honolulu area. This is his second experience coming out to the North Western Hawaiian Islands as he spent his last summer on Laysan Island, working with Hawaiian monk seals. He loves the ocean, photography (of course!), and being surrounded by birds and nature. New Matt will add daily efforts to restore our Green Island for few weeks now. Our departure from Kure is scheduled at the end of August, time flies!

Mahalo for following our adventures on the Green Island!

Virginie Ternisien Week 11: A hot tub bolus-an machine!

Week 11: A hot tub bolus-an machine!

This week, we are counting the albatross chicks on the entire island before they fledge!

I will let you guess our final count. Stay tuned next week when we release our final counts!

Few weeks ago, we welcomed Nimz and David, monk seal technicians. They will stay on the island until mid August, during the pupping season. They came with the SETTE, a NOAA ship that prospect the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands for potential young Hawaiian Monk seals to be rehabilitated if in poor body condition. The seals are then placed in a “seal hospital” called Ke Kai Ola, located in Kona, Hawaii. New faces, chain of buckets and totes and water jugs and wheel barrels, reminded us that not too long ago, it was us! With them, Leleaka, a yearling female seal came back home after half a year of rehabilitation, now sized as a three-year-old. She was staying in a cage for 3 days before we finally released her to the ocean. That moment was very powerful for each of us. She looked back several times to her cage before taking off, rediscovering the nature of the ocean, swimming freely! Nimz and David are conducting daily surveys of the whole island documenting the seal population. Their mission is also to tag the newly weaned seals and vaccinate identified seals. We have been trained to assist them if needed. The vaccinations are a preventative measure to buffer the population against the threat of canine distemper, a morbillivirus that has impacted similar seal/sea lion species in other parts of the world. In the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands the endangered Hawaiian Monk seals are threatened by marine debris, shark activity, overfishing, loss of habitat and male aggression within the species. Currently the population is rising, with estimates at around 1400 Hawaiian monk seals. Approximately 30 percent of the population is alive today due to efforts by seal technicians (including the DLNR field teams on Kure) providing veterinary and disentanglement assistance.

As the ship came, our Tiki had to return to Honolulu to continue her efforts in the Oahu Offshore Island program and so our field team was reduced to five people. Tiki, thank you for everything! “You can leave Kure, but Kure will never leave you” (A quote from the USCG Monument on Kure).

We are getting very close to finishing a full treatment of the island. Over the past few weeks, the temperature has risen significantly, approaching 80ish degrees. Summer is definitely around the corner! A 15ish mph East wind provided us some nice breezes while working in the open fields and dense naupaka. East wind is also a treat for the albatross chicks, as they are getting ready to fledge. They have now few downy feathers that remain on their head and sides of their bodies, the parts that are not readily accessible by their bill. While treating one area, we spotted the first Black-footed albatross chicks that were almost fully feathered and looked like adults. Whenever a wind gust comes by, you can be sure to watch a parade of wings and hops here and there. Thinking that two months ago, when we first arrived on the island, they were all downy! The growing stage goes even faster for the smaller birds. The white tern chick that is living close to the nursery flew for the first time last week. His mum is still feeding him and he still sticks around. There has been a die off of the albatross chicks over the past few days and the island has a smell for it. They have been hit by heat stress and less parents are coming back to the island to feed them. A dead bird disappeared in a matter of few days here, offering food for creatures and plants. We collect albatross boluses for research and educational purposes. A bolus is made of non-digested bits of food. As a side note, when an adult is feeding a chick, the food constitutes its only intake of water over a period of up to 2 weeks! Boluses have often an oblong shape. You know when they are about to regurgitate one, they make a very high-pitched noise, extend their neck up and down and shake their head frenetically. It looks very painful and can take several hours. Boluses are usually black, from the color of the squid beaks and oil. Each of them tells you a story. You find exciting and sad things, from bits of plastic to the very prized sea beans. Plastic is common to be found in all shapes, sizes and colors. For instance, we saw fragments of plastic bags, plastic cups, little figurines (a Buddha!), lighters, toothbrushes, rope, a 10inch black tube and so on.

Aloha!

Virginie

Virginie Ternisien Invasive plant removal: “Are you ready? Always!” Firefly

Week 6: Invasive plant removal: “Are you ready? Always!” Firefly

PART II.

IDENTIFICATION of a plant is critical for appropriate treatment and data collection. At the seedling stage, plants look quite alike. After weeks in the field, your eyes get familiar to the appearance for a given plant by its leaves, stem, shape, color and texture. Also, some have a distinctive smell such as the peppery Coronopus didymus (CORDID, lesser swinecress). You would be amazed how much your brain can register. Memory after the 20 year mark does not decline that much! Of course, some questions come up. Hesitations are then relayed to our field camp leaders who master the plant populations. I cannot stress enough that a 20/20 color vision is required for this work! Talking about vision, a plant is often obstructed by the vegetation, from some invasive Lobularia maritima ground covers (LOBMAR, Sweet Alyssum), to the native Kawelu (Eragrostis variabilis, ERAVAR), and trees with their full attire - branches and leaves. Let’s not forget insects that can easily divert your attention, such as spiders, beetles, wasps and ticks. Nature does not offer you the red carpet for sure. Some trails were cut to access an RA or others were made from the last visit but you often end up making your own path. Paths quickly disappear weeks after, filled up by some new growth. That’s actually good news for us because the new growth offers shade to the ground which slows down invasive plants. You also educate your eyes to look in every single direction, from the right to the left, from the top to the ground, under grasses, leaves and branches, where invasive plants often hide. After some weeks in the field, you kind of feel where they would find refuge. To fight the enemy, you need to understand its strengths! Obstacles are also made by the wildlife. Look before you step on the ground if there is an accumulation of branches that could indicate a Wedge-tailed shearwater nest, or look for some Sooty tern eggs that lay bare on the ground. Look for burrows, underground nests made by Bonin petrels that are often identified by a simple hole in the ground and a pile of fresh sand, which indicates the “entrance”. You should ALWAYS step in front of the hole, or you would inevitably drop in the unseen tunnel that can extend 6 feet long and get as deep as your knee! At head’s height and above, watch for White tern eggs and chicks that live on a branch without any nesting material. If you slightly move it, they can fall! Often, you hear the bird before you come too close to them such as the piercing noise of the Red-tailed tropicbird (even a chick!). You sense the decayed egg-like smell of the Red-footed booby nest covered by their white poop. Look also up in open areas to avoid the Laysan Albatross flying low when the winds are weak. They won’t stop for you and you better freeze or squat down fast! You should always keep a wide berth around any bird. Some are more docile than others. All of your senses are always in constant alert, everything is somehow unexpected out here where Nature governs. It teaches you to proceed with tasks slowly in order to process your surroundings and act accordingly. Before Kure, I was always on the fast line and multi-tasking. I still catch myself walking too fast, but the Albatross remind me to walk like a bird, slowly but surely!

ORIENTATION is key while working in the field where vegetation can easily obstruct the horizon and your coworkers. Cardinal points and target locations such as the Main House, the Runway, such tree or bird nest, help to describe where you are located. Forget about right or left, they are meaningless here. Technology comes in very handy in the name of a handheld GPS unit with an integrated GIS software. You better love this new gadget! It has in its memory limits of each RA’s borders and waypoints. These waypoints refer to different events such as invasive plant outbreaks, a bird nest or any unusual wildlife activity that were recorded the last seasons and can modify your work. The data are uploaded to provide a map distribution of such events. When treating an RA, each person spreads out at an even spacing along one of its borders. The two furthest persons will frame the portion to be covered and determine the workflow. The Leader is always at the border of an RA. The Flagger marks the coverage of the treated area with stake flags, only if the RA cannot be completed in one sweep. Otherwise, that person follows the border opposite to the Leader. Parameters such as the shape, size, terrain, dirtiness, number of persons involved or the weather have an impact in strategizing the coverage of an RA. Each person is responsible for an area to be covered, checking each portion of ground, zigzagging between his two side limits. Overlapping your neighbor’s line is recommended. Typically, things got missed just right where you stand! As a team, we always got each others back! In dense vegetation, where you can barely see one another, COMMUNICATION using personal radio plays a crucial role. We are constantly checking on each other. Good news is when you hear: “Roger”, “Copy that”! Your orientation is challenged when everything around you is trees. Your GPS records your track, which helps to go back to the location you stopped or makes sure to not miss any seed bank waypoints or portion of land. Remember also that your next visit will be more likely in four to six weeks, you don’t want to miss an invasive plant that will flower and eventually drop seeds! If the population of an invasive plant is dense or “dirty” and/or the terrain to maneuver is difficult, the spacing between each other will be tighter than wide. When arriving at an RA, we first discussed the treatment strategies and make sure that everyone is connected by radio, got its direction and orientation right.

Next, I will explain how we remove invasive plants and how we plan it.

Stand by :)

Virginie

Virginie Ternisien "Earth Day every day and our daily sweat" Part 2

"Earth Day every day and our daily sweat" 

By Virginie Ternisien

The weather has been pretty variable. We had a few hot days approaching 80 degrees, others with NNE wind at a maximum force of 21 mph. It brought cold mornings (mid 60ish degrees) but thankfully the sun would warm up during the afternoon to mid 70s degrees. These coldish temperatures were actually a treat when working in dense field of Naupaka (Scaevola taccada, a native shrub). Well, not so much later on, for the outdoor shower, which was for sure reviving! It rained once which gave us the opportunity to complete some maintenance such as cleaning the water catchments (for our facilities and for the Laysan ducks), entering data (always always always!) and work in the nursery. We planted native Akulikuli (Sesuvium portulacastrum) and Koali ‘Awa (Ipomea indica) cuttings in pots, transferred some Popolo (Solanum nelsonii) from a flat seed tray to individual deep pots, broadcasted native seeds of Lepturus repens in the Camp RA, which were previously collected at Northeast Point RA, among other plant activities.

Each week, we monitor the population of the endangered Laysan ducks at the seeps and guzzlers while looking for potential mosquito adults and larvae. Recently, the water sources were treated to control mosquitoes. No mosquitoes have been detected since, fingers crossed! Once a week, we conduct Hawaiian monk seal and shorebird surveys. Common shorebirds include Pacific golden plovers, Ruddy turnstones, Bristle-thighed curlews and Wandering tattlers. We took GPS waypoints and marked nest sites of Masked and Brown Boobies and Grey-Backed Terns as they were discovered during RA treatment.The island is currently a nursery station and thus the cutest place ever! Some species are laying eggs (such as the Sooty terns and Black noodies) while others have downy chicks (Red-tailed tropique birds, Brown boobies), partially feathered chicks (Laysan and Black-Footed Albatross, White terns) and already juveniles (Red-footed boobies).The Albatross chicks, the most abundant on the island, seem lately to feel more adventurous which get them in trouble sometimes. So many have been rescued from being caught in burrows (holes made by underground nesting birds such as the Bonin petrels) or one came too close to the duck guzzler… Poor cuties! Not to mention also that we have currently 11 endangered Hawaiian Monk seal moms and their pups at our beaches! In addition, we are (impatiently!) waiting for new broods from the founding Laysan ducks. Of course, you would be so tempted to stare closely at these cuties for hours, right? However, during the crucial time of parenting, human disturbance is reduced to a minimum. If flushed, some bird species won’t return to their eggs, or break it accidentally, or the Iwa (Great Frigatebirds) would come and steal nesting materials dropping the eggs, or they can even eat the downy chicks. Each disturbance we could create is recorded in our data log and avoided at all costs. Binoculars and long zoom lens camera get very handy! While at the pier for some leisure time, we observed one threatened Green sea turtle, sharks (often Black-tip), Spotted eagle rays and once lots of Man-of-War jelly fish (yikes!).

Besides this busy schedule, we do find some time to relax and these moments even taste better that way: reading, writing, watching movies, listening to music, yoga, cooking, beach (if no seals!), sleeping and yes house tasks we can finally achieve! I am sure you would like to know more in detail about what I just listed above: the plants, the animals, our lifestyle on the Green Island without mentioning our unique sunrises and sunsets and night skies full of stars, powered by the moon.The next posts will be dedicated to those themes. We have five months to go, thank you for following our journey! 

Mahalo!

Virginie

Virginie Ternisien "Earth Day every day and our daily sweat"

"Earth Day every day and our daily sweat" April 2017

by Virginie Ternisien

The calendar reminded me that Saturday April 22nd was Earth Day! That day was a worldwide day of demonstration and remembrance that our planet needs care. On September 2014, I happened to be in Melbourne, Australia, for the Climate March. A sign always haunts me from that event: it featured an Earth globe in a poor shape, with that simple and yet powerful message: “You would not treat your Mother like that!”. Right on! It is very human to be distracted by stuff and loose this grounded connection to Earth, our only home. What did you do? Did you plant a tree, start a garden, reduce your waste, buy local, eat less meat, ride a bike instead of driving your car? Earth-friendly actions are endless. It can only be successful if it starts with yourself.

Living on Kure is the apprenticeship to become minimalist and self-sufficient. A very low carbon footprint is crucial in a wildlife sanctuary to ensure that our activities do not compromise the ecosystem. Also, on a daily basis we see the negative effects of human impacts on the ecosystem. This comes from a 30+ year period of human installation as Kure was a Coast Guard Station, to living thousands of miles away from a city, and from climate change. Everything is dynamic on Earth, nothing is static. To name just a few: the atoll has a shocking constant accumulation of marine debris, the introduction of numerous alien species (plants and animals) in Kure pairs with human arrival, sea level rise is very concerning to an island with a mean elevation of 2.8 (SD 2.0) and animals come further away from their primary habitat because of scarce food resources. We can do so much damage to the environment in a short amount of time. But, we can also turn things around for the greater good. Earth day is EVERY DAY on Kure by ethic and it is a profound source of personal inspiration and optimism. This post is dedicated to give you some hints about our weekly schedule and observations on Kure.

We closed up our fifth week on the Green Island, time flies! Now, we got a pretty solid routine. Activities depend on the weather, wildlife events and if returning in Camp from the field late in the afternoon. We celebrated JE’s birthday with words of gratitude. We burnt invasive plant seeds collected during field activities and paper trash while looking at a sky full of stars. This happened only a few times a season as needed, weather and wildlife permitting.

Thirty-two restoration areas (RA) were successfully treated to eliminate and control invasive plants. It includes the RAs left from the Winter Season 2016 (mission accomplie!!!) and others from our Summer Season 2017. Each season, the crew completes the treatment of the entire island (188 acres) at least twice, ideally 3-4 times, during the six month period. The RAs were overall pretty weedy. It included “fields” of Lobularia maritima, our infamous trio of grasses - Eleusine indica, Cenchrus echinatus and Sporobolus pyramidatus, and the fragrant Coronopus didymus, among others. We hand pulled our very first tall Verbesina encelioides (VERENC), a daisy-like plant , the tallest were approx. 6 feet high. Few had viable and drop seeds (dang!). We also “sushi-rolled” our first Cassytha filliformis (CASFIL) infested plants. CASFIL is a parasitic vine that reminds me the Adams Family hand. It has specialized roots that reach far and penetrate host tissues, often native plants, to absorb nutrients. It uses its dying prey as a trampoline to attach to other close species. It can even feed on other CASFIL…To me, that is the most creepiest invasive plant on Kure but truly an amazing force of nature. All outbreaks of invasive plants and drop seeds were marked with a GPS waypoint and specific colored flagging. Currently, the island counts 15 native plants and 33 nonnative. While VERENC is the main target plant to eradicate from the island, the other invasive species are controlled concurrently to provide more land for the native seed banks, as mentioned in the Department of Land and Natural Resources (DLNR) 10­ year program management plan. The ultimate goals are to restore seabird habitat and promote dune stabilization. While working close by beach sectors, we removed hundreds of pounds of marine entanglement debris collected and secured by the Winter crew at specific locations.

He Pūkoʻa Kani ʻĀina - Blog #25

Aloha mai,

Here's my last blog for the season. 


Mahalo,
Aulani


                                                           Blog #25 He Pūkoʻa Kani ʻĀina
                                                                                                                             

Pule 25 (3/19/17-3/26/17)

   Aloha mai e nā maka heluhelu, nā ʻohana, a me nā hoa piha i ke aloha iā Hōlanikū. Ua hōʻea nō ka pau ʻana o ko mākou noho ʻana i Hōlanikū nei. Hō ka wikiwiki o ka holo ʻana o ka manawa! I loko o koʻu makemake ʻole e haʻalele, hauʻoli au i ka hoʻi ʻana i kuʻu ʻohana. He mea kupaianaha nō ka hiki ke noho a ʻike maka i kēia ʻāina kūpuna. ʻO kēia kahi aʻu i hoʻoulu ai i nā ʻano like ʻole. Pōmaikaʻi wale nō kēia. 
   Well, this is it gangeh. The Winter camp ʻ16-ʻ17 has finally come to an end. Brah, I still canʻt believe how fast these past six months have flown by. It seems as if just yesterday we arrived ashore from the Kahana. Six months ago, I arrived as a fresher, lighter-skinned, and much smaller version of myself. Now Iʻll be returning home weathered, tanned, and twice the wahine I was before I left - both physically and mentally. 
   Our last week was spent completing the last of our work tasks, packing, and preparing the camp for the Summer crew. This week wasnʻt only a process of preparing camp for the next crew, but also a process of preparing myself for the emotional transition of leaving Hōlanikū and returning to civilization. I was just going through the motions of packing, not thinking too much about it, until it finally hit me on Wednesday. We really are leaving. It just seems so surreal. Since then, Iʻve been going through undulations of being depressed, excited, anxious, and ready to return home. Now, intensifying this emotional roller coaster, we found out that our departure would be delayed not only once but twice. First, our expected departure on Friday was delayed ʻtil Saturday. Next, Saturday became Sunday. Now, weʻre looking at leaving on Monday. As this delay drags out longer, my feelings and emotions are dragged even more. If it were to keep happening, Iʻd probably end up going pupule. 
   Itʻs pretty crazy to think that in a few hours, the very first people we will see after six months will be the crew members of the Summer ʻ17 camp. Whatʻs even more crazy is that we will go from living in isolation to returning to the crazy, busy town of Honolulu first thing. Talk about a cultural shock. Now, weʻll be switching from living among five people to being among 5 million others. Weʻll also swap out the thousands of birds with thousands of cars and buildings. Iʻm not sure Iʻll even remember how to drive. Iʻm just glad weʻll have about a week on the Kahana to slowly acclimate to being around other people besides the five that weʻve lived with for 6 months, eat fresh food, take hot showers, wash clothes, SLEEP, and most of all, prepare ourselves for the transition of a different lifestyle. 
   Well gangeh, we made it! Living on Hōlanikū, witnessing the beauty of our ʻāina kūpuna, has been the best experience of my life. This season wasnʻt easy. It was hard work. Iʻve gone through various phases, realized many things, changed my perspectives in life, and became stronger both physically and mentally. My love for the ʻāina, my kūpuna, my ʻohana, and the future generations has only deepened. I have been, and will always remain kūpaʻa in my beliefs. As hard as it is to leave Hōlanikū, I know I will return one day. I heard the voices of my kūpuna calling me to this ʻāina and here I am. Like a bird traversing through the sea, I will arrive ashore one day, and return home. 
   Eia ka ʻōlelo noʻeau o kēia pule: “He pūkoʻa kani ʻāina” (A coral reef that grows into an island). A person beginning in a small way gains steadily until he becomes firmly established -Ka Puke ʻŌlelo Noʻeau a Pākuʻi #932. I find it crazy how relevant this specific ʻōlelo noʻeau is to my life. Just before I came out here to Hōlanikū, I attended the IUCN World Conservation Congress in Honolulu in September. The theme of one of the first events was “He Pūkoʻa Kani ʻĀina.” Preparing myself for the journey to Hōlanikū, I attended sessions related to the ocean and sea birds. It was an awesome opportunity to learn more and to see and meet people who share the same values as me. Throughout the season, I realized the significance of this ʻōlelo noʻeau in my life. In the Kumulipo, life starts from the coral polyp. I am at what others refer to as the end of the Hawaiian island chain. However, I am currently standing at the beginning of time. There is where it all began, our ʻāina kūpuna. And now for me, this is where my life begins. Throughout my experiences, Iʻve been able to learn, change, and grow. With a foundation of ʻike and experience, the building begins. Despite the rough seas I may face, I will always remain standing. 


He wahi mahalo kēia no ka heluhelu, ke kākoʻo, a me ke aloha ʻana mai iaʻu. Iā ʻoukou kuʻu mahalo a me ke aloha palena ʻole! A hui hou nō kākou. Until next time, menpachis

Naʻu me ke aloha, 
Aulani