Norfolk Island Flora and Fauna Society.

            I had the members of the Norfolk Island Flora and Fauna Society at my house for a meeting last week.  It was at my house because the A & H Hall, the usual location, had no power and I knew because of a tour earlier that day that my house could handle guests.  I have my grandparent’s Kauri-wood dining table which can easily handle the seven people who arrived.  It’s a great table for dining and conversation, poker and meetings.  The 2006 High Court case of Bennett vs. the Commonwealth, which sought clarification of Norfolk’s constitutional relationship with the Australian Commonwealth, got its start at planning meetings around this table.  But that night, to me, it was the people around the table more than the topics that most impressed.  I was sitting with what constituted the history of the modern ecology movement on Norfolk, going back in some cases more than 50 years: Beryl Evans, Honey McCoy, Margaret Christian, Peter Davidson, Leigh Christian-Mitchell and Rob Ward.  Also around the table was Ginny Maidment, Community Laison officer for the Commonwealth, to offer advice on grantsmanship. 

            Beryl, together with her late husband, Owen, is the quintessence of environmental consciousness.  From their own pocket, they developed what amounted to a bona fide ornithological research centre on nearby Philip Island.  Philip is a bird sanctuary, some 1 x2 miles across, surrounded by steep coastal cliffs and is still not easy to access.  This was Beryl and Owen’s stomping grounds beginning over 30 years ago.  They made the terrain traversable in order to study close at hand the Island’s sea birds.   When I first went to Philip some  15 years ago, beginning with the vertical cliff just meters from the landing, virtually everywhere I’d need a rope and a hand or foot hold trying to reach the interior plateau I’d find one, and Owen and Beryl would have put it there.  The rope guardrails atop the south-facing 300 meter high cliffs, Owen and Beryl placed.  Making Philip their second home for months on end well into their 70s, they did it solely for their love of knowledge, which they would share freely with anyone who asked.  Beryl still does.  My favourite Owen story along these lines is, when I was newly arrived and trying to imagine ways of getting outside support for their work, I asked why he didn’t start publishing his findings.  Owen’s answer was he wasn’t finished yet.  My favourite Beryl story is when I was writing an article about them for the (now defunct) Pacific Island Monthly magazine and learned she had discovered two species of moth, but couldn’t remember where she had left the piece of paper to tell me the taxonomic names.  Two wonderfully unassuming characters.

            Honey is much the same: a tireless worker driven by her passion and concern for the ecology of the Norfolk archipelago (Norfolk, Philip and Nepean islands).  Among many other things, Honey has made the rehabilitation of Philip a priority.  Because of the introduction of rabbits to Philip in the 1790s, the island has been virtually denuded of vegetation for most of the last 150 years.  Fortunately, the rabbits were exterminated in the 1980s, which has allowed colonising plants (and thus windbreaks) to establish.  On her way to discovering several species of plants unique to the Island, Honey has for several decades slowly but steadily been re-establishing native plants on Philip.  Perhaps half of the island is now covered in some kind of vegetation, in part because of Honey’s nurturing.

White Tern

            Margaret’s knowledge has resulted in her publishing the definitive field guide to Norfolk Island birds.  This is a genuinely weighty task to contemplate, let alone do.  Her book is now an essential tool in the field.  She seems to get great delight, as all these folk do, in watching bird behaviour each year and in collecting anecdotes of various odd and colourful events across the Norfolk landscape over time.  Margaret has become the “go to” person when members of the community see something unusual and want to share it or find an answer.  But maybe the true answer person is Peter, who is also the Island’s Conservator of Reserves and head of Forestry.  Peter like the others is a keen observer of natural phenomenon, but he adds an additional measure of scientific training and technique to his conversation.  It can be a nice overlay to the grassroots observations of “lay” natural historians.  Peter, however, knows to defer when some of the older ones are speaking.

Springtime for two White Terns.

            Rob is Honey’s son.  Rob doesn’t yet know how much his mannerisms are like his mum’s.  That includes a concise mind, great earnestness, broad interests, and a true economy of expression.  Rob can demonstrate, as well, that humour needs few words.  A fly on the wall of their household would have learned a lot and occasionally wondered why it was laughing.

            I’m going to enjoy getting to know Leigh better.  In our small community, we know most everyone, but not necessarily well.  This is probably a good thing, but not always.  Leigh and I would chat a bit when we’d see other, but now I’ll see a serious side.  My left side is my serious side, which she’ll find out.

            There was a point at this meeting when President Margaret asked if anyone had “observations”.  People started sharing many of the things they had seen and learned of our natural environment since they last met - the return of the migratory white terns; assessing whether the “Tarla Bird” really does eat the embryos of nesting petrels; the condition of the tall  grass on Philip – which was like listening to doctors exchange diagnoses and treatment after hours.  These are the people who genuinely derive pleasure from nature and who are pained at the prospect of environmental degradation or of losing another species.  They still  meet, they still try because they’re optimists.  How many meetings do you actually walk away smarter?  It was cool.

(Photos courtesy of Norfolk Island National Park)

- Rick