Tag Archives: wellington zoo

The global penguin – Part 7. The wandering emperor penguin enters the technological age

The celebrity Emperor Penguin at Wellington Zoo had a satellite tracking device fitted yesterday in preparation for his trip towards colder climes during the coming week.

Happy Feet getting the logger glued to his back. Photograph by Susan Waugh. © Te Papa.

Happy Feet getting the logger glued to his back. Photograph by Susan Waugh. © Te Papa.

The bird will be transported to south of 50 degrees on the NIWA research vessel Tangaroa this week. Sirtrack  Ltd had developed one of their line of specialist wildlife tracking devices for the bird. It is about the size of a small cell phone, and will send location information to scientists following the penguin’s story.

Dominique Filippi showing the logging device. Photograph by Susan Waugh. © Te Papa.

Dominique Filippi showing the logging device. Photograph by Susan Waugh. © Te Papa.

Dominique Filippi, Wellington based researcher from Sextant Technology, deployed the transmitter, using techniques developed in his work with the French Centre National de Recherche Scientifique Emperor Penguin programme, with whom he works in Antarctica. The device was attached by superglue to the feathers on the lower back of the penguin, and further secured with cable-ties. This technique has been used for several years on a range of marine animals, and does not cause more than minor inconvenience to wild birds or mammals.

Dominique Filippi showing where the logger will be attached. © Te Papa.

Dominique Filippi showing where the logger will be attached. Photograph by Susan Waugh. © Te Papa.

The logger is programmed to transmit for 7 hours per day, in order to save the battery, and to maximise the lifespan of the device. It will transmit between 6-9-am and 8pm-12am (NZST), the times when most satellites are overhead in the zone which the penguin will be travelling through. The logger will detach from the bird after several weeks, as the bird loses its feathers during its normal moult cycle. The data from the bird’s locations are transmitted without needing to re-capture the penguin, and hence its progress towards Antarctic penguin colonies will be able to be tracked for the next several weeks, after its release.

Applying super glue. Photograph by Susan Waugh. © Te Papa

Applying super glue. Photograph by Susan Waugh. © Te Papa

Colin Miskelly will be posting more news about the emperor penguin once the webpages allowing you to keep track of his progress are up and running.

By Susan Waugh, Senior Curator Natural Environment

Previous blogs on this topic:

The global penguin – Part 1. How a lone emperor ventured into superstardom

The global penguin – Part 2. The young emperor penguin pushes the boundaries and is taken into care

The global penguin – Part 3. No latitude for error: a young emperor penguin a long way from home

The global penguin – Part 4. How to track a wandering emperor penguin

The global penguin – Part 5. The rocky road to fame

The global penguin – Part 6. Hitching a ride south

For later blogs on this bird:

The global penguin – Part 8. Free at last!

The global penguin – Part 9. Heading home, or heading east?

The global penguin – Part 10. It’s only a game

The global penguin – Part 11. How old was the Peka Peka emperor penguin?

The global penguin – Part 12. The final word?

For more information and videos:

http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/5520599/Hundreds-farewell-Happy-Feet

The global penguin – Part 6. Hitching a ride south

Te Papa’s curator of terrestrial vertebrates Dr Colin Miskelly tells the sixth part of the unfolding story of the emperor penguin that went where none had gone before (at least in the age of digital media). Colin is a member of the committee advising on the care and rehabilitation of the bird, and told the first five parts of its story in Te Papa blogs posted between 23 June and 22 July.

The emperor penguin at Wellington Zoo. Photo: Kate Baker, Wellington Zoo

It’s time to go! After nearly two months in care, a decision has been made on how the emperor penguin will be returned to subantarctic waters. After a satellite tag has been glued to his lower back, he will be placed in a purpose-built crate and loaded on to the NIWA research vessel Tangaroa at its berth in Wellington Harbour, a few kilometres from Wellington Zoo, on 29 August.

The Tangaroa will be undertaking an acoustic survey of southern blue whiting fish stocks in the vicinity of Campbell Island during most of September. Campbell Island is the southernmost of New Zealand’s subantarctic islands; it lies at 52.5 degrees south, approximately 1100 km north of the maximum extent of the Antarctic pack ice. This is at the northern edge of the at-sea range of immature emperor penguins (see blog of 6 July).

Tangaroa – the pride of the NIWA fleet. Photo: NIWA

During the four or so days that the Tangaroa steams south from Wellington, the penguin will be cared for by Dr Lisa Argilla, veterinary science manager at Wellington Zoo, with assistance from NIWA staff. There will be no room on board for media, and so TV crews will have to say their farewells to the penguin on the wharf on 29 August. The release should be videoed, and we are hoping that Lisa and team will be able to relay the footage via a satellite link.

After his release on about 2 September, we should be able to follow the emperor penguin’s progress on both the Sirtrack and Our Far South websites (see blog of 11 July). I’ll provide URLs in a later blog, once the pages are up and running.

The satellite tag constructed and donated by Sirtrack. Photo: Colin Miskelly, Te Papa

The satellite tag is not a Global Positioning System (GPS) unit. As partially explained on 11 July, the tag works by transmitting a signal every 45 seconds at times of the day when a polar orbiting satellite is passing overhead. In order to get an accurate fix (within a few hundred metres of where the bird is), the satellite needs to pick up four or more signals per pass. If fewer signals are detected, the penguin’s location will be determined with a lower level of accuracy (typically within a few kilometres of the correct position). The Sirtrack team have developed a programme to check the accuracy of the locations, and plot only those that are plausible and sufficiently accurate.

The location data should be accurate enough to tell if the penguin sets foot on any of the island groups in the southern ocean, but not with the level of precision that a more bulky GPS transmitter would provide.

The penguin has been experiencing polar conditions in Wellington, with the heaviest snowfall in decades gracing the city during 14-16 August, only three weeks after the coldest day ever recorded there. While Wellington residents shivered, the cold conditions cooled the small pool in the The Nest Te Kōhanga, the animal hospital at Wellington Zoo, allowing the penguin to have short swims on 25 July, and 14-20 August.

Taking to the water on 19 August. Photo: Saphira Brilliant Nrew

He is in great condition, weighing in at close to 27 kg. Allowing for the sand removed from his stomach and throat, this is about 6 kg more than when he was brought into care. It could be a rude shock for him to return to catching his own food after 2 months of being handfed young salmon!

The emperor penguin at Wellington Zoo. Photo: Colin Miskelly, Te Papa.

Previous blogs on this topic:

The global penguin – Part 1. How a lone emperor ventured into superstardom

The global penguin – Part 2. The young emperor penguin pushes the boundaries and is taken into care

The global penguin – Part 3. No latitude for error: a young emperor penguin a long way from home

The global penguin – Part 4. How to track a wandering emperor penguin

The global penguin – Part 5. The rocky road to fame

For later blogs on this bird:

The global penguin – Part 7.  The wandering emperor penguin enters the technological age

The global penguin – Part 8. Free at last!

The global penguin – Part 9. Heading home, or heading east?

The global penguin – Part 10. It’s only a game

The global penguin – Part 11. How old was the Peka Peka emperor penguin?

The global penguin – Part 12. The final word?

The global penguin – Part 5. The rocky road to fame

Te Papa’s curator of terrestrial vertebrates Dr Colin Miskelly tells the fifth part of the unfolding story of the emperor penguin that went where none had gone before (at least in the age of digital media). Colin accompanied Department of Conservation staff to Peka Peka Beach on the morning of 21 June, and identified the bird just before the first journalists and media photographers arrived. He is also a member of the committee advising on the care and rehabilitation of the bird, and told the first four parts of its story in Te Papa blogs posted between 23 June and 11 July.

Colin Miskelly and the emperor penguin at Wellington Zoo on 18 July 2011, when the bird weighed a healthy 25 kg. Copyright Colin Miskelly, Te Papa

It is four weeks since the emperor penguin was taken into care due to concern at his deteriorating condition and the large quantity of non-food items that he had consumed. In addition to beak fulls of sand (believed to have been mistaken for ice, and therefore consumed in an attempt to cool down and rehydrate), the bird had also been seen swallowing driftwood.

The veterinary team at Wellington did a great job of removing the sand and small bits of driftwood. It is assumed that he regurgitated the larger bits of driftwood himself on the beach, as these were not found in his system after arrival at the zoo. But once the x-rays revealed that his alimentary tract was sand-free, they revealed another surprise – a large mass of small stones. But Peka Peka is a sandy beach, so where did the stones come from, and why were they there?

X-rays of the emperor penguin at the Wellington Zoo showing (left) a stomach full of sand, which was masking (right) a stomach part-full of stones. Copyright Wellington Zoo

Penguins as a group are well known for often having pebbles in their tummies (or, in science-speak, ‘gastroliths in their proventriculi’), but the reasons why are poorly understood. At least five theories have been proposed:

1. The ballast theory
Penguins catch food by diving, and the added weight may improve their energy efficiency by making them neutrally-buoyant at a shallower depth. The catch is that they would then need to actively swim back to the surface (expending energy), rather than floating up, and a bird the size of an emperor penguin would need to swallow several kilograms of stones to make any difference.

2. The food-crusher theory
Penguins don’t have teeth (another reminder that they are not human), and may use stones to aid the physical break-up of food in the gizzard.

3. The “I’m-not-really-hungry” theory
All penguins are capable of surviving fasts of weeks, or even months, in duration – up to 4 months for an incubating male emperor penguin. Having a gut part-full with stones may assuage hunger pangs, by triggering stretch receptors in the gut wall, thereby ‘tricking’ the brain into believing that the stomach is not empty.

4. The gut-cleansing theory
Many penguins have large numbers of gut parasites, particularly nematode worms. The stones may create a harsh physical environment to either kill parasites or make the stomach a less pleasant place to live.

5. The accidental ingestion theory
Maybe penguins swallow stones because they are already inside their fish prey. An intriguing variation on this is that they may mistake sinking stones for diving fish, if stones fall out of the bottom of melting icebergs formed from glaciers that have picked up rocks from the Antarctic continent.

The jury is still out on why penguins swallow stones, but there is ample scope for some nifty experiments to test each of these theories.

If it is assumed that emperor penguins deliberately swallow stones, another intriguing question is where do they get them from? Emperor penguins breed on fast-ice, a term used to describe floating ice that is anchored to the Antarctic coastline (as opposed to the free-floating pack-ice). With the exception of the occasional ablated meteorite, fast-ice is notably free of rocks, adding to the intrigue of where the stones came from.

“Any spare stones ma’am?” An emperor penguin wades through an Adelie penguin colony on Hop Island, Antarctica. Copyright Colin Miskelly

Emperor penguins do occasionally come ashore on ice-free sections of the Antarctic coast, but it is more likely that they pick up stones from the sea-floor – they are capable of diving to over 500 metres. Most of the ocean between Antarctica and New Zealand is thousands of metres deep, and so the stones inside the penguin that came ashore at Peka Peka may yet be able to tell us part of the story of where he came from.

But the story could be more complicated than that. The stones might tell us where his parents used to forage, as emperor penguin chicks are known to get stones along with regurgitated food from their parents. Again, we do not know whether this is incidental, or whether the adults are deliberately passing on a geomorphological mouthful that will benefit their chick.

Fishing for stones or compliments? Or maybe they are just hungry. Adult emperor penguins slip into the water at Terre Adelie, Antarctica. Copyright Dominique Filippi

Previous blogs on this topic:
The global penguin – Part 1. How a lone emperor ventured into superstardom

The global penguin – Part 2. The young emperor penguin pushes the boundaries and is taken into care

The global penguin – Part 3. No latitude for error: a young emperor penguin a long way from home

The global penguin – Part 4. How to track a wandering emperor penguin

For later blogs on this bird:

The global penguin – Part 6. Hitching a ride south

The global penguin – Part 7.  The wandering emperor penguin enters the technological age

The global penguin – Part 8. Free at last!

The global penguin – Part 9. Heading home, or heading east?

The global penguin – Part 10. It’s only a game

The global penguin – Part 11. How old was the Peka Peka emperor penguin?

The global penguin – Part 12. The final word?

Riders of the storm – thousands of seabirds perish on New Zealand shores

It started as a trickle and soon developed into a flood of devastating proportions. On 11 July 2011 I received an email enquiry from a family at Waikanae seeking help with identifying an unusual seabird that they had found dead on their driveway. It was a Salvin’s prion, a not-too-unexpected discovery near the coast during a winter storm. But the next day a Department of Conservation colleague phoned from Masterton reporting a dozen live prions found scattered inland in the Wairarapa, on the sheltered (eastern) side of the Tararua Range. If that number had reached the leeside, what was happening of the exposed western coast? It didn’t take long to find out.

By 14 July over a thousand live prions had been handed in to wildlife care centres in Wellington and Manawatu, an alarming number given that during prion ‘wrecks’, only a tiny fraction of the birds are still alive by the time they reach land. But what is a prion? and why do they wreck?

Fig. 1. Some of the 660+ stranded prions delivered to Wellington Zoo. These are all broad-billed prions. Photo: Colin Miskelly. Copyright Te Papa

Prions (the singular is pronounced ‘pry-on’) are a group of six small closely-related seabirds that are hugely abundant in southern oceans. They are petrels, and like most petrels, typically breed in enormous colonies on remote islands free of introduced predators. They should not be confused with the other use of the word (in this case pronounced ‘pree-on’) used for a particularly nasty group of infectious proteins that cause the brain-wasting Creutzfeldt–Jakob disease in humans, plus mad-cow disease, and scrapie in sheep.

All prion (bird) species are very similar in size and plumage markings, with the most obvious difference being bill shape, which varies from broad through to narrow or chunky. Within this continuum of variation, some pairs of species are very difficult to distinguish from each other. 

Fig. 2. Bill shapes of four species of prions. Left to right: broad-billed prion, Salvin’s prion, Antarctic prion and fairy prion. Photo: Colin Miskelly. Copyright Te Papa.

The three species with the widest bills have prominent lamellae (comb-like structures) along the edge of the upper mandible, used to filter tiny crustaceans and other small animals and their eggs from sea-water. When combined with a muscular tongue and an extendible pouch below the bill, these adaptations recall those of baleen whales, which feed in a similar way. Perhaps this is why prions are sometimes referred to as ‘whale-birds’. 

Fig. 3. Lamellae (comb-like filters on the edge of the upper mandible) on a broad-billed prion. Photo: Colin Miskelly. Copyright Te Papa.

Prions are well known to New Zealand birdwatchers, even if they are frustratingly difficult to distinguish at sea. Members of the Ornithological Society of New Zealand have for many years patrolled the New Zealand coastline recording the numbers and identities of birds cast ashore. For many, this is the only way to become familiar with prions, particularly in those years when large multi-species wrecks occur. The results of these ‘beach patrols’ are occasionally published in the OSNZ’s journal Notornis. Between 1960 and 1996, over 86,000 prions were found dead on New Zealand beaches; large wrecks occurred in 1961, 1970, 1974, 1975, 1984-86 and 2002, with over 10,000 birds cast ashore in 1974, 1985 and 2002. Earlier wrecks occurred in 1878, 1918 and 1932.

Like all petrels, prions are true seabirds, spending their entire lives at sea apart from the 4 months when they are tied to a nesting burrow and the care of their single egg and resultant chick. At other times they are constantly on the move, often in vast flocks, skimming the waves of the southern oceans in search of productive upwellings. Although frail-looking, they thrive in a part of the globe renown for strong winds. Until they encounter land… 

Fig. 4. A flock of Antarctic prions near South Georgia in the South Atlantic Ocean. Photo: Colin Miskelly. Copyright Colin Miskelly.

Prions move with the wind, using the varying airspeeds on the windward and leeward sides of waves to fly long distances with great energetic efficiency. There are few land masses in the southern ocean, and it is usually easy for flocks of prions to slide around the few obstacles that present. Except, that is, for the 1500 km coast of New Zealand. For ten consecutive days in July 2011, persistent westerly gales in the Tasman Sea pushed prions against New Zealand’s western shores. To start with, the birds moved effortlessly with the wind. Then as land loomed, they started to fight the wind, trying to stay offshore. But the relentless gale continued, consuming the birds’ energy until they were exhausted and driven ashore in tens of thousands.

Although there is a long history of prion wrecks on New Zealand beaches, the scale of the 2011 wreck is unprecedented. Far more prions have been killed in this single event than the 37-year total recorded by the OSNZ. Details are still being collected and collated, but large numbers have been found from at least Dargaville to Okarito, 900 km apart. In places they have stranded at rates over 400 birds per kilometre of coast. And that ignores the birds blown inland.

Even more alarming is that nearly all the birds are broad-billed prions (91% estimated), a locally-breeding species. The two previous largest wrecks of broad-billed prions were between 1100 and 1400 birds. It will be difficult to estimate the full extent of the 2011 wreck, but it is likely to be up to 250 times larger than either the 1961 or 1974 events. 

Fig. 5. Beach-wrecked broad-billed prions, Paekakariki (Wellington west coast), 16 July 2011. Photo: Colin Miskelly. Copyright Te Papa.

Desperate efforts are being made to save some of the birds, including a combined total of over 1000 being hand-fed at Wellington Zoo and Massey University. As the birds are exhausted and emaciated from their struggle against the gale, it is terribly difficult to revive them, and hundreds of those delivered have since died.  

Fig. 6. A rescued broad-billed prion being fed at Wellington Zoo. Photo: Colin Miskelly. Copyright Te Papa.

The 2011 prion wreck will have wreaked a terrible toll on the New Zealand broad-billed prion population. The species also occurs in the South Atlantic, but the birds in New Zealand waters are thought to come from the breeding populations on the Chatham Islands, Snares Islands, and islands around Stewart Island and off the Fiordland coast. Apart from the 330,000 pairs estimated on Rangatira Island in the Chatham Islands, none of these other populations are thought to number more than a few thousand pairs. The total New Zealand population is likely to be little more than a million birds, and so the tragic deaths of (probably) several hundred thousand of them will have a huge impact, especially if the birds in the Tasman Sea were mainly from the less numerous southern (non-Chatham) populations. 

Fig. 7. The calm before the storm – healthy broad-billed prions on Kundy Island, off Stewart Island, March 2011. Photo: Colin Miskelly. Copyright Te Papa.
Other blogs on this topic:
 
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