Why worry about the Marbled Murrelet?
by MC Davies
If you ever get to see a marbled murrelet going about its business on
Haida Gwaii, you would do well to pause and mindfully consider this marvelous
creature of the forests and the sea, because there is every likelihood that
these tiny birds are not going to be around here much anymore. As a species,
their survival is now on the critical list.
The status of marbled murrelets in BC was upgraded from blue to red this
fall by the BC Government. Marbled murrelets are also listed as threatened
by the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada (COSEWIC)
and as near-threatened by the World Conservation Monitoring Centre.
The islands of Haida Gwaii are renowned for teeming and spectacular bird
life. It doesn't take a ornithologist or a life-time bird watcher to marvel
at eagles soaring in great numbers, to gasp in excitement as a falcon dives
upon its prey, to admire the pretty plumage of harlequin ducks, or stand
in contemplative silence with a meditative great blue heron. We have it
all here . . . in abundance. And we often miss the significance that, in
the world, all these winged creatures are becoming rare. The existence of
these particular birds in our company on earth is increasingly threatened
by our activities in this very place where we, and they, live.
The marbled murrelet is one species who is in deep trouble on this piece
of earth known as Haida Gwaii. Other sea birds of these islands who share
the marbled murrelet's red-alert situation are the horned puffin, pelagic
cormorant (pelagicus subspecies), common murre and the thick-billed murre
(see list below).
Winged creatures of the forest and the sea
Marbled murrelets are creatures born into the place where ancient forests
shoulder their way down the edges of continents and meet up with the Pacific
Ocean. From way back in time, these birds of the sea evolved together with
the rise of the great forests of the Pacific Rim. Their survival is integrally
linked to old-growth forests and their endangerment means all is not well
in our coastal ecosystem.
But we haven't known much about the marbled murrelet's critical habitat
needs until recently. The birds were well known at sea, but science, for
a very long time, remained ignorant of the essential link that has evolved
between these birds and
It is not that the link was subtle, or invisible, or even mysterious really
- it's just that human beings - not being birds - were blind to what was
going on well above their heads in the canopy of ancient forests. It turns
out, much to every ornithologist's surprise, that these birds of the sea
launch themselves from ocean waves and fly deep into the canopy of the forest
to nest high up on the mossy covered branches of ancient trees.
This was a remarkable discovery as all this bird's relatives in the Alcidae
family, such as its cousin, the more numerous ancient murrelet, nest in
colonies in burrows and cracks in rocks on offshore islands.
About the marbled murrelet
Bird watchers, and many others who are familiar with coastal waters anywhere
from Alaska to California, Russia and Japan, know about marbled murrelets
at sea - even though these birds of near shore waters are frankly, pretty
dowdy, totally unimpressive at first sight - small robin-sized birds paddling
about with their bills tilted upward, in black and white plumage in the
winter, and a "marbled" cinnamon brown colour in the summer. With
their short compact bodies and strong wings, they literally "fly"
underwater catching anchovies, herring and sand lance, their main foods.
But no one knew where marbled murrelets nested. Every year in early spring,
numbers would decrease in the inland waters and inlets of the Pacific coast
and two months later, young birds appeared floating about out on the waves.
Back in the 1920's the Audubon Society even offered a reward to anyone who
could shed light on this puzzling gap in biological science.
People did notice that the birds seemed to move inland in spring. Called
"fog larks" by early loggers in California, marbled murrelets
were often heard calling as they flew high overhead into the forest. Sightings
were difficult, as the birds travelled usually in the dim twilight before
dawn or dusk, often in the rain and fog. The birds flew quickly and their
dappled colouring made them invisible once they had entered the forest.
Then in the 1950s a logger on Haida Gwaii discovered a dazed marbled murrelet
in the debris of a fallen hemlock. But no nest. This story was registered
in the annals of famous bird lore for many years.
In the United States the first nest was found by a tree-trimmer in 1974,
high up in a Douglas fir tree in California. Since then, we have learned
that the first marbled murrelet nest was actually found in 1961, in a larch
tree near the Sea of Okhotsk in Siberia.3 Other nests have been discovered
in the US, Canada, Russia and Japan. But not many - 50 being the highest
number quoted.
In BC, up until 1991, only one nest had been located - on Vancouver Island.
Recently, another active nest has been reported on the Sunshine Coast.
Species headed for trouble
The finding of a few nests generated great excitement in the birders world.
At the same time, it became obvious that our understanding of these birds
and their place in our ecosystem was dim. And, once scientists had discovered
that marbled murrelets required old growth forest for their survival, it
became clear that the species was already in big trouble as logging activities
have decimated, and continue to destroy, critical habitat.
Major research projects were launched in the 1980s to concentrate on marbled
murrelet biology and ecology. Many studies have been done, including one
on Haida Gwaii by the Canadian Wildlife Service.4 The study found marbled
murrelets were detected in many places on the coast and near inland lakes
of Haida Gwaii.
A number of major international initiatives underway are coordinated by
the Pacific Seabirds Group, a society of researchers from both academic
and government groups. This organization has established a marbled murrelet
committee to coordinate research efforts and lead a species recovery program.5
Of particular interest has been the development of standardized survey techniques
to detect the presence of marbled murrelets.
Even when a lot of murrelet activity has been detected, it has still been
very hard to locate individual nests. And it is not known if the birds nest
solitarily or in groves of old-growth trees.
Once the breeding season begins in May, the adult birds fly inland in the
hours of dawn and dusk, traveling at speeds up to 80 kilometres an hour
in order to keep their heavy bodies airborne with their short stubby wings.
It has also been suggested that marbled murrelets are not able to take off
from the forest floor but must launch themselves from some height in a tree.
Nests are typically small, a shallow depression high up on moss covered
branches, 20-40 metres above ground in a tree, usually more than 250 years
old. Marbled murrelets have been detected as far as 85 kilometres from the
ocean, although most have been closer to salt water.
Only one egg is laid. The adults take turns sitting on the nest, and once
the egg is hatched the adults take turns every night flying out to sea and
returning carrying in their beak a meal (one fish about 15 cm long) to the
nest. The young are fledged in about a month. This low reproductive rate
is compensated somewhat by the bird's long life - 10 to 25 years - given
half-a-chance in escaping the perils of oil spills and gillnets at sea.
Populations declining
Populations of marbled murrelets have declined seriously in recent decades.
The North American population is estimated at 360,000.
In California, populations, once thought to have been 60,000, have fallen
to between 2,000 and 5,000. It is estimated that in British Columbia and
Alaska populations have declined by 50% over the past few decades and are
continuing to decline by 3-6% per year.6
With a population of 45,000 to 50,000 birds7, British Columbia holds between
20 and 30 per cent of the world's marbled murrelet population.
In California, conservationists representing the marbled murrelets have
battled it out in court with the logging companies to protect the last stands
of old-growth redwood forests which are the murrelets' home. Marbled murrelet
habitat is also all but gone in Oregon and Washington and is "depleted"
in the lower mainland and Vancouver Island.
No committment
Since the early 1990s, the province of BC has fiddled and fooled around
with guidelines and recommendations about the conservation of marbled murrelet
habitat in logging operations. Despite our international promises to ensure
biodiversity, and huge claims that "we don't do it that way anymore,"
no guidelines for habitat reserves have proceeded beyond the draft stage
- including the much touted Forest Practices Code guidelines for "Management
of Identified Wildlife" which would require marbled murrelet inventories
to be completed over two years in any logging cut blocks planned within
30 kilometers of salt water.
Not one single marbled murrelet study on Haida Gwaii has been completed
to standards acceptable to the province's Resource Inventory Committee and
therefore logging continues apace to liquidate remaining ancient forests.
Meanwhile, in the US and Canada, politicians go about their business, mouthing
good intentions and spending thousands of dollars on scientific pursuits
and endangered species recovery projects. Here on Haida Gwaii where critical
habitat areas continue to be approved for imminent logging, it is obvious
that no commitment is being made on the ground.
Why worry?
Why should I worry about the passing of a small plain, little brown bird,
that I have never even seen, and just recently heard about? What significance
to me could this bird's fate be as I eat my morning toast and sip my coffee?
In the passage of earth's history many species have appeared, thrived and
then vanished into extinction - usually due to natural causes . . . volcanic
explosions perhaps, or other acts of fire and ice. It's when species die
by wilful destruction of home and living space that something closer to
murder is a more likely verdict. This is the ethical reason to care.
Other reasons are more self-serving and have to do with our own survival
as a species. That is, personally . . . us . . . people . . . the single
species known to western science as homo sapiens, "wise" or "sensible
people" from the Latin.
Obviously we ignore, or forget, or fail to notice that we are dependent
and interconnected in the whole world of beings, biotic and abiotic. When
one species is at risk, we are at risk too. That our well-being is diminished
by the extinguishment of a poor little bird is neither a hysterical nor
a fringe notion. These are facts of our life (and its end) put forward by
profound "science" ( from scientia - Latin for knowledge). Ignorance
is no excuse. Our reality is spelled out by many - elders of traditional
wisdom, professors of western rational science, and spiritual leaders who
comprehend our fragile human existence in time and space.
Maybe, if all the marbled murrelets in the world dropped dead out of the
skies in one moment at my feet, I would know something was up. More likely,
if all the marbled murrelets disappear forever, they will do so in silence.
I won't even know, or notice. But, I would be culpable, and I would be less
as a human being, whether I knew it or not.
Footnotes: