The return to Egg Island

Mike recently had the chance to go back to Egg Island with a team of ornithologists (bird botherers in layman's terms) to chase the elusive Bulwer's petrel and white-faced storm petrel that have been seen there (on one occasion each). So abandoning Fran in a paddock somewhere near the back of beyond (a fact he was hassled about by the birders constantly during that night) Mike packed several kilograms of camera equipment and headed down to the wharf. They didn't find the birds they were looking for, but they did catch lots of Madeiran storm petrels in a net. Though very cute, they are renown for biting fingers and for crapping copiously. Luckily they're only about the size of a blackbird.

Fran had a nice peaceful night comforted by the adopted cat, Kitty. Mike apologised profusely on his return, and in his defence - he did spend an hour looking around the back of beyond to find Fran so she could also come on the trip.

Flee! The bird botherers are coming!!

Steffan removing a Madeiran storm petrel from the mist net watched by ANRD's Marine Scientific Officer, Elizabeth Clingham

Steffan showing the concentration needed to remove the exceedingly ferocious storm petrel from the net

Annalea measuring a storm petrel watched by Fiona (on left), Joe-The-Vet (and BBC correspondent in this instance) and Kevin. For the photographers out there - note this was hand-held at 1/3 sec!

Fiona displaying considerably more calm than Steffan in subduing a storm petrel

Any closer and the shit will really hit the fan

Fairyland's Flax

One of the things St Helena was famous for (the other being a short French bloke) was it's use of New Zealand flax to make rope. In the olden days before synthetics St Helena rope was in high demand and this demand continued up to the 1960's as the UK postal service used St Helena twine to tie the tops of mail bags. Cultivation of flax was the island's only major industry, and large areas of the uplands were cleared of native vegetation and replanted with a flax monoculture. After the arrival of synthetic ropes the flax industry on St Helena crashed. As it was the only large employer on the island, many people lost their jobs - which was the start of the St Helena's Government working subsidies which has lead it to being the largest employer on the island (about 30% of Saints work directly for Government). The flax plantations have increased in size since they're no longer cut, and are now a major conservation issue in the highlands as virtually nothing grows within them. Windblown flax leaves also whip native plants to death and they thieve much of the water that falls on the Peaks. Being New Zealander's we find it strange (still) to see flax thriving on a tropical island. What is also unusual is that the species grown here is Phormium tenax - NZ's swamp flax, but here it grows in habitats we'd associate with cliff flax (P. cookianum) back in NZ. On St Helena, P. tenax can even be an epiphyte, nourished by the constant moist cloud cap that shrouds the islands Peaks. Other remnants of the flax industry survive, and many Saints tell amazing stories of working in the flax mills for about 17 cents a week (in the 1960's).

Disused machinery outside the Fairyland Flax Mill (honestly, its real name)

NZ flax cloaking the hillsides as far as the eye can see

NZ flax at Cole's Rock, a site where some endemic plants manage to survive (on the flax-free rocky bits)

No flax, but just a nice sunset as we headed home from Fairyland

What are we doing here II?

Well, one of the fun things we've been doing is dropping over cliffs looking for rare plants. Honestly, it is fun, and OF COURSE we're attached to a rope (3 in fact). Most of the remaining endemic St Helena plants are pretty rare and on this occasion we decided to check out something called the large bellflower (Wahlenbergia linifolia to its friends, and taxonomists). This one hadn't been visited for a few years, so no-one knew if it was extinct (the last visible plant had disappeared). Well, the good news it is not extinct - but it's pretty damn close with only 12 plants counted. We collected a small amount of seed and one small plant that had fallen off the cliff to try and establish it in cultivation. One feels that it is touch and go for this cute little plant.

Mike abseiling the last known site of large bellflower, at High Peak. One rope for abseiling (green), one for safety (orange) and one for lowering sharp cutting implements such as machetes (blue) - I tried not to get them confused. Note the flour sacks tied to the green rope to protect it from sharp rocks

The confusing view looking down the climb

The cutey in question. The seed capsule from the tip of the branch of one of the 12 last large bellflower in existence

 Of the 12 plants found, only 3 were adults. Fingers crossed

Now for the next abseils: bastard gumwood at Botleys (last wild tree) and ebony at Blue Point (last five wild trees)