Sumatran elephants on the critical list

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Sumatran Elephants

Elephant Safari Park in Bali

Last year on our trip to Bali we visited the Elephant Safari Park near Ubud which provides a home for 30 endangered Sumatran elephants.  I was quietly sceptical about the motives for the establishment of this park, and unsure about how well the animals were treated.  However, my fears on both accounts were proven wrong, and I left with much relief and admiration for the work that has been put into establishing this park.  Elephants at the park have all been relocated from “elephant camps” in Sumatra, which are essentially barren deforested “sanctuaries” where homeless wild elephants are rounded up and kept for the rest of their miserable (and usually short) lives.

Today the Sumatran elephant is one step closer to extinction with the IUCN upgrading its conservation status to “critically endangered”.  As reported by the Guardian (UK newspaper) the wild population of Sumatran elephants is now estimated at less than 2,800.  According to the IUCN the Sumatran elephant has lost 69% of its lowland forest habitat in the last 25 years (one generation of elephants).  Conflicts between homeless starving elephants and local communities and plantation owners are rising.  And with that more and more elephants will be forced into the elephant camps, which at present is the only ineffective solution offered by the Indonesian government.

The Sumatran elephant joins a number of other iconic Sumatran species that are now critically endangered including the Sumatran orangutan, the Sumatran rhino and the Sumatran tiger.  World Wildlife Fund is calling on the Indonesian government to prohibit all clearing in elephant habitats until a conservation strategy is determined.  They recommend an assessment to determine large sustainable habitat patches which can be designated as protected areas, while smaller habitat areas should be linked through conservation corridors. 

Unfortunately, in a country where people are living hand to mouth, large companies show little interest in ethics and conservation, and government officials are happy to turn a blind eye, this is unlikely to happen. Will it be that in another 25 years the only place to see Sumatran elephants will be in sanctuaries?  I have similar fears about orangutans.  Despite the fantastic work that is being done at various orangutan sanctuaries in Borneo and Sumatra, the rate of logging and expansion of palm oil plantations appears relentless.

There was, however, one good wildlife story that emerged last month with the discovery of a rare monkey in the remote jungles of eastern Kalimantan (Indonesian Borneo) that scientists had presumed to be extinct.  After setting up some cameras to record leopards, orangutans and other wildlife, scientists were amazed to find a tribe of small grey monkeys which have been identified as Millers grizzled langurs.  These monkeys once roamed north-east Borneo, Sumatra, Java and the Malay peninsula, however extensive field surveys in 2005 found no evidence of the species.

The monkeys were found in Wehea Forest, a 40,000 hectare jungle oasis surrounded by logging industries, palm oil plantations and mining. The forest is only protected by the local community, which makes long term protection of the species, and the forest itself very uncertain.  The scientists plan to return to the forest to further research the size of the langur’s population and its range so they can better understand how to conserve it.

Both of these news stories have come to me via the Guardian’s environmental newsletter which I discovered just recently.  Being a UK publication there is not a lot of stories from our part of the world, but I find it carries a lot of international conservation stories that are not necessarily picked up by the Australian media.  If you are interested in wildlife conservation or global environmental issues then I would highly recommend a subscription.  Each issue also includes a link to some great wildlife photos selected each week from around the world.

 

Snowy Serendipity

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Serendipity: a “happy accident” or “pleasant surprise”; specifically, the accident of finding something good or useful without looking for it.Country Woman July 1959

Not long after I posted my entry on the Snowy River my mother was sorting through some things at home when she came across a story my grandmother had written for The Country Woman, the monthly publication of the NSW Country Women’s Association (CWA).  My grandmother was a writer, not professionally but as a hobby, and I remember that we were all very proud when she had the occasional story published in the Women’s Weekly.  Mostly she wrote poetry or stories about her house and garden, or her pets.  But here in the July 1959 edition of The Country Woman was a story on none other than the Snowy Mountains Scheme.  My mother felt it was quite eerie, having just read my account of my trip down the Snowy, to suddenly find my grandmother speaking to us from the past, about a similar journey she undertook over 50 years ago.

“Where the Hills are Twice as Steep” focusses not so much on the river but on the Snowy Mountains Hydroelectric Scheme.  It seems my grandmother was part of a behind the scenes CWA tour of the scheme while it was still under construction.  At that time Adaminaby Dam was complete and according to my grandmother was “the second largest earth and rock fill dam in the world” (at the time presumably).  They stopped at various lookouts where they enjoyed “magnificent views” and then carried on to Guthega Dam and Island Bend where they spent the night.

“Any misgivings we may have felt about our abode were quickly dispelled for although the barrack-like buildings were drab from the outside, they were clean, comfortable and brightly painted inside.  Each person had a separate room with a comfortable bed, reading lamp, table, wash basin with running hot and cold water, and central heating. For where there is water there is power, and that means all mod cons.”

The next day the group visited Tantangara Dam site, Eucumbene Dam and Tumut Ponds Dam “the only curved dam and the prettiest of them all“.  At Tumut 1 Power Station the group donned yellow hard hats and “feeling rather like members of the French underground resistance movement, we made our way down the long, dim tunnel. It was eerie yet exciting as we tramped on, often over debris, with the sound of water trickling down the earth walls and making it damp underfoot.  Now and again we had to jump aside as a truck came tearing through, for no time is lost on the job.” 

Next it was on to Cabramurra, the highest town in Australia, where the standard of accomodation was, according to my grandmother, even better than at Island Bend.  Day three of the tour visited the site of the Tumut 2 Power Station (not completed till 1962) and a tour of the Yarrongabilly Caves.

Like most people at the time, the enormous scale and engineering design of the Snowy Mountains Scheme made a deep impression on my grandmother.  “Many will revisit it again and again, for it draws you like a magnet and holds your complete interest.” 

I have sometimes wondered what my grandmother would have thought of my career choice (I think she would have been proud to have a scientist as a grand-daughter) and whether or not she would have developed an interest in current day conservation and environmental issues if she had been around.  Sadly she died when I was just 15 so I will never know.  But at least I know where I get my interest in writing from.

Love you Nan.

Great weather for ducks

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The forecast is for another wet summer, especially for northern NSW and the coast.  Within days of the Bureau of Meterology issuing its three month summer outlook on 22 November, we have been drenched in rain up and down the coast, and the Gwydir and Namoi Rivers, amongst others, are in full flood. According to the Bureau of Meterology there is a 75-80% chance that our northern catchments will experience higher than median (the mid-point) summer rainfall.  On the coast we have a 70-75% chance of a wet summer, so I’d better keep that umbrella handy.

Source: BOM

At Gunnedah the Namoi River peaked at more than 70,000 megalitres per day on 27 November, around the same height the river reached less than 12 months ago in December 2010.  The town of Wee Waa is once again surrounded by floodwater, and is likely to be all week. On the Gwydir River the flood peaked at over 79,000 megalitres per day near Moree on 28 November, the biggest flood in the Gwydir since 2004. 

Namoi River at Wee Waa

Namoi River in flood at Wee Waa in 1998

I know that flooding is inconvenient, economically costly, and sometimes even life-threatening. Just look at my last post, or the dramatic flooding that engulfed southern Queensland this year. But there is a good side to flooding too, and as an ex-wetland scientist I can’t help but be excited when the river levels begin to rise.

Last year all our rivers got a long-awaited drink after a decade of crippling drought.  In NSW 2010 was the third wettest year in 111 years of record, and most of this rain fell in the second half of the year. Thankfully the ecological responses that resulted from this flooding have been well-monitored by scientists from various government agencies and universities.

Whilst getting a drink was an urgent requirement for most major wetlands, it was perhaps most critical for the Ramsar-listed Gwydir Wetlands.  Between 1996 and 2008 the Gwydir Wetlands lost 76% of its semi-permanent wetland vegetation either due to clearing or loss of water. The flooding and frequent rainfall over the 2010-11 summer allowed the marsh club-rush community that forms the inner core of the wetlands to flower, set seed and improve in condition. This endangered community has steadily dwindled from 2,000 hectares in the 1970s to just 207 hectares in 2008 so two consecutive seasons of good conditions could not have come soon enough. 

In the Macquarie Marshes almost 200,000 hectares (around 73% of the total wetland area) was flooded, the largest area of flooding since 1990. By December 2010 over 35,000 waterbirds were breeding including ibis, egrets and cormorants.  By February the waterbird population was over 100,000. 

On the Lower Murrumbidgee more than 34,000 hectares of the Lowbidgee wetlands were flooded.  Again, this was the most extensive flooding seen in twenty years.  43 waterbird species enjoyed the wet conditions and at least 13 separate waterbird colonies established throughout the wetlands. Frogs and fish also responded favourably.  Monitoring has shown that this large event brought out greater numbers and rarer species of frogs and fish than were found during smaller floods during the past three years. So the bigger the flood, the better the biological response.  The endangered southern bell frog was seen in some Lowbidgee wetlands for the first time in 5 or 10 years.

In the Booligal wetlands on the Lower Lachlan more than 120,000 straw-necked ibis took up residence amongst the lignum bushes to breed.  Their neighbours included smaller numbers of glossy ibis, white ibis, spoonbills and rare freckled ducks. This was the first significant breeding event at Booligal for about 6 years.

Straw-necked ibis were also a major beneficiary from record flooding of the Narran Lakes in northern NSW where multiple flood events kept the lakes full to overflowing for over 12 months. The lakes filled for the first time in 10 years in April 2010 with about 40,000 waterbirds, mostly straw-necked ibis, breeding in the Ramsar-listed wetlands.  New inflows entered the lakes in spring which resulted in another 12,000 straw-necked ibis nesting in October.  Then the Queensland floods hit and by February 2011, with the lakes at their highest level ever, around 100,000 straw-necked ibis and other waterbirds were either looking after chicks, incubating eggs or trampling lignum to prepare new nests.

Wetlands are often described as being subject to cycles of “boom and bust” and we have certainly seen this in the past 18 months. Its remarkable how resilient wetlands are, but that’s not to say that we shouldn’t look after them and plan for the lean times ahead. 

Last year I was a little hesitant to declare the drought to be over.  With the forecast ahead of us however, I will be more than happy to watch our rivers and wetlands blooming again, and admit that perhaps we have moved into the next wet cycle.

BOM seasonal outlook for summer: http://www.bom.gov.au/climate/ahead/rain_ahead.shtml

For more water-related environmental news see http://www.environment.nsw.gov.au/environmentalwater/newsletters.htm

 

 

Floods in Cinque Terre

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Planning our trip to Italy last year I spent hours poring over websites and recommendations by other travellers trying to decide which of the five Cinque Terre villages to base ourselves in for our three night stay.  I chose Vernazza for its picturesque little harbour, and because many people said it was the prettiest of the five villages. 
 

Picture perfect Vernazza

Arriving in town we climbed steeply up what seemed like a never-ending set of stairs to our apartment set high on the hillside.  Our bedroom window offered one of the most spectacular views I have ever had during our travels, from the aqua blue harbour dotted with its little fishing boats, through a jumble of pastel coloured buildings in shades of terracotta, yellow, and pink, through to the brilliant green terraced hillsides that rise up behind the village.

View over Vernazza from our apartment

Sadly, today this view would be quite different.

On 25 October 2011 the Cinque Terre region received 20 inches of rainfall in less than 24 hours.  The tiny streams flowing from the mostly cleared hillsides were unable to cope.  Hillsides collapsed and torrents of mud swept through these tiny coastal villages killing at least nine people.  The beautiful town of Vernazza was the worst hit, along with its larger neighbour Monterosso. 

When we first arrived I knew there was something unique about Vernazza, with its tightly packed houses facing each other from opposite hillsides.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was though, until the next day when we climbed to the top of town to find the post office.  Here we found a stream – the Vernazzola Stream – which disappears underground just above the railway station.  And then I realised – Vernazza’s main street used to be a river! 

On 25 October the river reclaimed the main street, which now lies under 4 metres of mud and debris.  The gelateria, the bakery, the grocery store and all of the other shops along the main street are completely buried.  Pictures show mud up to the shop awnings and people walking past second story balconies which are now almost at ground level.  It will take months to dig out the sediment and debris that has swallowed the town, and years to completely restore it (assuming this is possible).

Shops on the main street of Vernazza - now destroyed

It has been very sobering to look at the various pictures and videos posted online by locals and tourists caught in the destructive storm.  One of the best collections can be found on the website www.savevernazza.com which has been set up to coordinate donations for support of the people of Vernazza and restoration of the town.

On the photos page http://savevernazza.com/?page_id=21 you will find a link to a slideshow that tells in photos the experience of one couple from the US who were caught in the flooding that day, taken in by generous locals for the night, and then evacuated along with many of the town’s residents the next day.  Its a great example of how pictures can tell a very powerful story.   

 

The big flush

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It’s amazing how far Australians will go just to have a sticky beak.  Standing on the banks of the river I meet a guy who has travelled 700 kilometres just to “have a look”.  It makes the 380 kilometres that I have travelled seem not quite so silly after all.  On a beautiful spring day, the river is bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon, and we stand together watching the muddy chocolate brown water swirling under the bridge and rushing downstream. 

But this is not just any river.  This is the Snowy River, and this flow has been around 20 years in the making.

In the early to mid-1990s the fight to “save the Snowy” began to gain momentum, and the campaign found a voice with the slogan “The Snowy River must flow again”.   I had one of those stickers plastered on my filing cabinet at work, and while I was busy mapping outback wetlands, some of my colleagues were busy accompanying scientists up and down the river, a think-tank of great minds that became the Snowy Expert Panel.  Some years later I found myself out in the field helping another group of colleagues who have been diligently monitoring the macroinvertebrates and water quality of the Snowy River for almost a decade now so that we have the scientific data that is required to see if the river is improving.  More recently, as a hydrologist, I analysed the Snowy River’s flow regime, and became acutely aware of just how big an impact the Snowy Hydro Scheme has had, especially on the NSW section of the river. At Dalgety, 96% of the river’s annual flow had disappeared, and even way down the river in Victoria 65% of its annual flow volume was still missing.
 
So here I am, standing on the bridge at Dalgety, having driven nearly 400 kilometres just to see the spectacle of the Snowy River running at bank full.  And I am not the only one – parents have brought their children down to the river after school, people are walking their dogs, and curious locals pull up their utes in the car park and chat.  The veranda of the pub is a popular place. 
 

Snowy River at Dalgety

My new friend on the river bank has travelled all the way from Ballarat. 

“As soon as I heard it on the news I knew I had to come” he tells me. 

On the 5th October Snowy Hydro began releasing the largest environmental flow to the Snowy River since Jindabyne Dam and the Snowy Hydroelectric Scheme was constructed.  Starting with releases from the valves, the “flushing flow” was delivered over a 19 day period, with the pattern of the releases designed by the NSW Office of Water and Snowy Scientific Panel to mimic a natural spring flow.  The peak flow of 12,000 megalitres per day was delivered over three days (10-12th October) by lowering the radial gates on the dam and allowing the stored water to flow over the spillway. Whilst there have been a number of smaller releases delivered (in spring 2010 and autumn 2011), this environmental flow is the largest so far and the first to be delivered over the spillway.  The size of the event is designed to fill the entire natural channel of the river, flushing away years of accumulated sediment and algae, and providing enough force to reinstate some natural channel shaping processes. 

 If the colour of the water is anything to go by, the flow is working as intended. 
 
Earlier in the day I joined the steady stream of curious visitors who made their way to the temporary viewing area set up by Snowy Hydro below the dam wall at Jindabyne.  The atmosphere here was just as jovial as at Dalgety.  As I arrived a man was yelling excitedly into his mobile phone, his voice raised above the roar of the water. 
 
“You should see this.  What a fantastic flush” he exclaims.  “You should come down here and have a look”. 
 

Releases from Jindabyne Dam

The next day I travel down the Barry Way into Kosciusko National Park, a long and winding road that brings me down the mountains to where the Snowy River is wild and untamed.  The Snowy River is a very secretive river.  On its whole 350 kilometre journey from Jindabyne to the sea at Marlo there are just three road crossings – at Dalgety, McKillops Bridge and Orbost.  For most of its length the river runs through rugged inaccessible alpine country, the type of country synonymous with the horse-riding legend of the Man from Snowy River.  This makes it very difficult for sightseers like me who prefer to travel with four wheels.

The Barry Way is my only other opportunity to view the river in NSW.  This unsealed road runs south from Jindabyne into Kosciusko National Park before crossing the state border into Victoria’s Alpine National Park.  It is a hair-raising descent not for the faint-hearted but once down in the valley there are a number of camping and rest areas that provide easy access to the river.  It is here that I truly begin to appreciate what the Snowy River must once have been.  The channel here is several hundred metres wide and the muddy waters have done as they were expected and filled the entire channel.  This is what the river should look like every spring (albeit not quite so muddy) when the alpine snows melt and drain into the catchment.  

Snowy River along the Barry Way

In between the rest areas the road twists and turns around steep mountainsides that afford spectacular views along the river.  From some of these vantage points you can clearly see the amount of vegetation that has become established on what should be temporary sediment bars within the river.

On what is normally a very lonely stretch of road, I count at least 20 cars and motorcyclists during the four hours that I spend along the river.  I am really pleased to see the level of interest that has been generated by this event, from the local Snowy community and way beyond. 

Of course, not everyone is supportive of the flow release, and there are still many who believe that the water would be better off invested where it was intended to be – supporting the generation of hydroelectricity and the growing of crops in the Murrumbidgee and Murray valleys.  It is enormously difficult to justify environmental decisions on economic grounds, but in the long run I am hopeful that the science will show the decisions that have been made are well-founded.

To view my gallery of photos of the Snowy River environmental release visit

http://daylegreen.zenfolio.com/snowyriver

For information on the scientific work being undertaken on the Snowy by the NSW Office of Water visit

http://www.water.nsw.gov.au/Water-Management/Monitoring/Snowy-River/default.aspx