Biologist Account: Heather:
"We had a full army to help us with our survey on Kapapa. Actually, we hoped for 3 of us to be dropped off for a survey of nearby Kekepa – the mushroom shaped island that we have tried to access twice without luck – and then join the efforts on Kapapa, but it was not to be. The surf was too big around the little islet to even get near it. Next time, next time. It turns out that we needed all the help we had just for Kapapa. Our first plan of action was to set out the pitfall and pan traps for the arthropod survey while Jaap headed back to the pier to pick up another group. They had some mysterious electrical problems en route and Jaap received intense electrical shocks at regular intervals before discovering a wet life jacket had snuck in near the battery. Once we were all on the island we began a full seabird survey, searching every little crack and crevice for shearwater chicks. Everyone was really into the survey, stretching into elaborate yoga poses in an attempt to reach the back of the long burrows to determine if a chick was present. Although the islet was riddled with burrows, most were collapsed and empty – certainly caused by the large feet of unknowing visitors. The only chicks that survived were in dense vegetation where people don’t tread or under large rocks. We saw many islet visitors during our survey. The majority were fishermen, but they were aware of the burrowing seabirds and many inquired about their status. More worrisome were the visitors that came to picnic, for they tended to tromp all over the island causing damage. Although the seabirds are protected by federal law, the islet is not part of the State Seabird Sanctuary and people are allowed to walk all over it. We saw an immediate need for informational signs on the islet to reduce the bird deaths. Five hours later, the exhausted yoga session ended and most of the group headed back to shore. For four of us, our work was not done. We had to continue with our arthropod survey and would spend the night on Kapapa. We worked until dark and took a break for dinner while watching the adult shearwaters streaming into the islet. Their moans and wails filled the air along with the excited squeaking of chicks whose parents had returned with food. We set up our gear for night collecting, but the full moon was brighter than our light traps and we had little luck. Although the shearwater party was just beginning – and getting more raucous by the minute – we were beat and decided to call it a night. The next morning was a beautiful one and I walked around the islet taking photos while the others slept. The shearwaters had already returned to sea and the islet was quiet again, only a Black noddy splashed in the shallows as it caught fish. Ron and Naomi shared their decadent breakfast and we continued our arthropod survey. Although we were unable to locate the native weevil, we did find the native yellow-faced bee in abundance. We picked up our traps, packed our gear, and spend some time snorkeling while we waiting for pick-up."